Page 9 of Avenging Kelly

I scalded my throat with the hot liquid as I gulped it down, but I immediately poured myself another cup. I’d just come home to shower and change, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was building… something terrible. Something that wouldn’t leave any of us the same once it hit us.

“Another thing that bugs me is they originally sentenced Brown to one year in USDB after he went AWOL, but he was in prison for almost four years. Why do you think that is?” I asked my brother.

Dallas glanced at the ceiling for a moment before he caught my gaze again. “Maybe there was more to the charges than just going AWOL. Did he kill someone after he got there? Was he insubordinate with an officer in his chain of command? I can’t imagine it was a picnic being locked up in a military prison.”

Well, he had a good point, which was one constant with my brother. He looked like he would chew you up and spit you out without a second thought. The guy people crossed the street to get away from. But—what did they say? Don’t judge a book by its cover.

Aside from being ill-tempered and intolerant of bullshit, my brother was one of the most loyal men I knew. He didn’t do anything without considering the consequences from every angle before acting, which made him a hell of a bounty hunter. He had dogged dedication to a job, and he didn’t stop until he had his prey in his jaws, so to speak.

My brother’s unrelenting dedication to see a project through until the end was also what made him a walking target for the rag-tag associates of the remaining Scorpions, who still had a hard on for my brother’s head impaled on a stick in front of their clubhouse.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I pulled it out to see Brown was on the move again. The guy was plucking my last goddamn nerve.

I glanced at my brother. “Trade me phones and go find this guy. He’s got a tracker on his bike, and he can’t keep his ass in one spot. Will you please call me when he stops? I’m gonna jump in the shower, and I’ll catch up to ya,” I assured Dallas.

My brother nodded without question and took my phone, handing me his. He grabbed his jacket and slid his boots on before he headed out. I wished to hell I could talk him into coming to work at GEA-A. He was exactly what we needed.

After a speedy shower and a change of clothes, I sent Dallas a text.

Where are you?

The three dots danced and disappeared three times. Finally…

Spires Tower Apt 32B. Ur name’s at the desk.

I hurried down the stairs to the parking lot behind my building, hitting the fob to unlock my company’s SUV.

I drove over the bridge to midtown, parking in a garage close to Spires Tower and wondering how the fuck my brother could get into the tower to find Kelly when I hadn’t been able to and then get me on the fucking list to get in?

I walked to the gleaming glass doors of the golden building, surprised there wasn’t a doorman guarding it from the outside. A man was sitting at the security desk with a bored expression.

“I’m London St. Michael. I’m here to see, uh… apartment 32B,” I announced, unsure of whose name I should use to gain entrance.

“Ah—there you are. Mr. St. Michael, yes? May I see your ID?” the man asked, glancing up for my confirmation.

I fumbled for my wallet and pulled out my driver’s license handing it over. “Uh, yes. Yes, I am.”

The security guy studied it for a minute before he nodded and handed it back before he walked me to an elevator and inserted a key card before he pressed the button for the thirty-second floor. “Have a good day.”

The doors closed before I could respond. I was beyond confused, anyway, so heaven only knew what might have come out of my mouth.

The elevator rocketed toward the sky, so I held onto the railing because the gravitational pull almost put me on the floor. I had no time to think or strategize before the door opened, but thankfully, I’d remembered to grab my revolver before I got out of the Tahoe.

I was surprised there were no metal detectors at the entrance of the building, given the city’s crime statistics. I moved my gun from behind my back to my right pocket where I could get to it easier, hoping to fuck I wouldn’t need it.

When the bullet train of an elevator car stopped, I walked out and headed down a long corridor to the second apartment on the right, all of which had city views that I was sure someone paid handsomely for.

I was eager to know who was acting as Kelly Brown’s host in some of the most expensive real estate in Manhattan. Maybe my gut was onto something… Kelly Brown wasn’t telling us the total story.

I rang the bell and put my hand in my pocket to double check the pistol was easy to get to as I waited. When the door opened, I was met face-to-suppressor with an FNX-45 tactical pistol aimed straight at my forehead.

“Show me your hands,” Kelly insisted. I could see a sheen of sweat on his brow, and his hand seemed a little shaky as he covered me. That wasn’t good.

“Where’s Dallas?” I asked as I held up my hands.

“In Texas,” my brother announced from his seat at a glass-topped dining table to my right.

My head turned to see he was relaxing in a fancy dining chair with a beer in front of him. I could only see one hand on top, but as I studied him, I saw through the glass that the other hand was secured to the chair leg by handcuffs. My brother then rattled the chain to confirm he wasn’t able to move.

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