Page 83 of Agony

“What?” That caught him off guard and he frowned, shooting Dave a squinted look.

Move him? Like Justice was a fucking object?

“I can’t have discourse in Erebus. It’s too volatile as it is.”

He glared at Dave.

Nobody was fucking moving Justice any fucking where.

“You won’t need to move him. I’ll see to it,” he snapped, then took a breath and tried to calm the fuck down. He’d been in the military and this man was the former SecDef. “Sorry, sir.”

“I’ll give you this one time to get it all out, but in the future, I hope your attitude changes.”

“I can’t promise that, but I can promise I won’t take it out on you,” Fisher said honestly.

“Fair enough. Let’s talk about something else for a minute,” Dave said.

Fisher squinted. “What do you want to know?”

“Why did Solomon tell Azrael that Boston was dead?”

Fisher rubbed at his face with both hands. Fuck, he was tired. He dropped his hands into his lap and simply told the truth.

“Because of Tanis.”

“Don’t you mean Blue?” The lines on Dave’s forehead crinkled with confusion.

“No.”

A couple of hours later, Dave’s large dining room table sat filled with enough food to feed an army, but with the number of hungry people gathered around the large vats of enchiladas, tacos, rice, and beans, it might not be enough.

Fisher had corrected Dave’s assumption that Blue was in charge. He told Dave that Tanis was an up-and-coming player in their world. The discussion about Tanis’ lucrative business had lasted more than an hour.

Dave had called in the boys and Boston had stumbled over his words about Tanis, not giving much, but it was something. Azrael had stood mute—refusing to say a word. It was clear to Fisher that Azrael had been owned by Tanis.

That motherfucker.

When Dave turned to him, Fisher shook his head. Now was not the time to tell Dave about his own history with Tanis.

Mainly because he wasn’t ready to talk about it. So, all that shit would have to come on another day.

And maybe not even then. There were parts of that past even he didn’t remember.

Forks clattered against dishes, bringing his attention back to his plate of food. The men gathered around consumed the meal with gusto and the low murmur of conversation filled the room.

A familiar voice swept in from the hallway and Fisher froze with a half-eaten taco in his hand.

“Excuse me,” Dave said, scooting his chair back and leaving the room.

The voice sure the hell sounded like Justice, of that, Fisher had no doubts.

He sat on pins and needles, eyeing the doorway, holding his breath, waiting to see the blond-haired, blue-eyed man appear in the doorway.

What would he say to him? Should he just keep quiet? Or should he leave before Justice came into the room?

Screw that.

He was done running.

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