Page 67 of The Woman in the Warehouse

“Matej, this is Anthony and Saylor. Friends of mine,” Elio told him. Matej gave us each a slight nod before looking back at the familiar face in the room. “What the fuck happened here?” Elio asked.

To that, a muscle ticked in Matej’s jaw. Anger. But it conflicted with the raw pain in his warm eyes.

“My brother,” Matej admitted, shaking his head. “I was sleeping upstairs,” he said, eyes far away as the memories came back to him. “I heard the screams,” he said, lower lip quivering. Pain or anger? That was anyone’s guess.

I imagine he’d woken up to the horror scene happening in the kitchen.

“It went on for so long,” he said, closing his eyes. “So much screaming as I got my gun and started downstairs. When I heard a shout, a shot, then… nothing. The silence… fuck,” he said, sucking in a deep breath.

There was a moment of silence, the man lost in his grief, before he continued. “There was nothing I could do down there. I started back up. That’s when they came running…”

“What about the bedroom upstairs?” Elio asked. The sheetless bed with the massive bloodstain in the mattress.

“Karel,” Matej recalled. “Passed out drunk. Didn’t hear anything. Didn’t, I hope, feel anything, either,” he said, swallowing hard. “Not like Petr and Jan,” he went on, head hanging, but his hand lifted to wipe a tear off of his cheek.

Elio moved closer, grabbing the man’s shoulder, squeezing, offering silent sympathy as I felt unexpected tears flooding my own eyes.

I wasn’t typically an emotional woman. But I’d been in that kitchen. I’d seen the horrors that those two men had known in their final moments. If that didn’t make you a little emotional, you were a monster.

Ever observant, Anthony reached out, sliding an arm around my lower back, his fingers digging into my hip, offering comfort without making me feel weak for needing it.

“There was no way out, though,” Elio said when Matej pulled himself together again.

“No,” Matej said, shaking his head. “I got off one shot before my brother was on me. Then…” he said, waving at the basement.

“Why would Jan do this? These were his people too,” Elio said.

To that, Matej shook his head. “This is all my fault,” he said, and I couldn’t imagine that kind of burden on your shoulders. “I kicked out Jan last month,” he admitted. “He was… bringing shame to this organization. He could have left. With grace. He had more than enough money to feed his appetites. But that wasn’t good enough.”

“He has a crew,” Elio said.

“Men I had cut off many months or years ago,” Matej said. “For similar reasons. I didn’t know Jan was still in contact with them.”

“He might not have been,” Elio said. “He could have just been pissed off and sought them out.”

“He didn’t have to do this,” Matej said, sniffling as he looked toward the wall, trying not to break down. “I need to go. I need to find him.”

“We know where he is,” I said, making Matej’s gaze shoot to me.

“You do?” he asked, brows pinching, and I wasn’t sure if it was typical sexism, or if he was just confused because he didn’t know who I was.

“They stole from me,” I told him. “So, I’ve been looking into them.”

“That’s why we’re here, actually,” Elio explained. “If not for him stealing from Saylor, I’m not sure we would have found you in time.”

“What did he steal?” Matej asked, something in his voice deep with feeling. I almost felt like he was asking because he planned to make it right, pay for what was lost.

That, unfortunately, wasn’t the big problem at hand now.

Not when men this psychotic were so heavily armed.

“I’m an arms dealer,” I told him, watching understanding and horror move across his handsome face.

“Do you have any reason to believe Jan would be batshit crazy enough to try to take down the Costa Family?” Elio asked.

At that, Matej’s gaze slid to Anthony, putting the final pieces together.

“A month ago, I would have said no. Now? I don’t know what he is capable of. Can we move upstairs?” he asked.

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