Page 41 of Chaos Luck Wrath

“Mmm, duty calls then?” Layne’s hands rested on his bearded face as she gave him a kiss letting him know she appreciated all the things he had wanted to do to her. “Maybe afterwards you and I can have our own meeting and you can convince me just how much you are the right man for the job.”

When she went to put the box back onto the closet’s shelf, Gage took the box from her and grinned. “I got it, short stuff.” He winked at her.

Her hand lightly patted his firm ass in thanks before she quickly headed downstairs to have a much-needed discussion with Sammy.

Before putting the box back into the closet, Gage peered inside and curiously looked at the photo album right on top. Setting the box on the stool, he flipped to the first page seeing the old photograph of Layne and her family.

He grinned, having seen that same cheesy smile from Layne on more than one occasion.

Flipping to the next page, the following picture wasn’t nearly as heartwarming. The handwritten title ‘Layne’s 1st Broken Bone After Bike Collision With Liam’ was above a picture of Layne with her right ankle in a cast and on a set of crutches.

She looked a little older than the previous picture, but not by much. The thing that caught his attention was Liam’s smug face in the background looking at Layne’s bright pink cast. Even without knowing the full story, Gage had a gut feeling that the evil little shit was looking proud of his handiwork.

He closed the photo album before he worked himself up further into a rage. Gage securely put the box of memories back into the closet where it came from.

Downstairs, Layne walked into her office and saw Sammy standing by her bookshelf. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he shifted his stance nervously when she entered.

Based on his clothes, the dress slacks, and a casual black button-up, her associate was trying to keep a professional but relaxed image. The tattoos crept up the front of his neck, meeting a silver chain clinging loosely around the base of his throat. “Sorry to drop in on you, Layne.”

“It’s fine.” She walked over to her desk and took her seat behind it. “Gage didn’t give you too much trouble, did he?”

Sam looked down in a rare moment of discomfort and shook his head. “Not more than expected.” He kept his distance from her while clearing his throat to try and make way for the words. “Look, Layne, I just wanted to let you know that I’d never…”

She cut him off, saving him the awkward words, “I know.” Slowly, she exhaled a tired breath. “Liam is doing what Liam does, pushing until he gets the result he wants.”

His hazel eyes looked at her with sympathy, seeing that all of this wasn’t without its toll on her. Somehow, dealing with people like Russ Spencer and other faction heads came with very little cost to her psyche. Sam may not have been a man with any sort of degree in psychology, but Liam’s actions were making more of an impact on her mentally than any other crime lord could.

“You’ll get through this.” He ran a hand over his thin beard, his fingers tracing over the outline of his mouth. “You just need to treat him like any other jackass that wants to come stomping all over your territory.”

She scoffed with a bit of a smile at how he simplified it. “But he’s not just any other jackass, Sam. He’s my brother. There’s no one else out there that has as many years of knowing what makes me tick.”

With a nod, he was willing to give her that point. “True, he may have years of knowing you, but you know what he doesn’t have?”

The urge to give a smartass comment as a response was all too tempting, “Fashion sense?”

That drew a chuckle from her associate. “You’re not wrong. But, even more importantly, he doesn’t have this.” He pulled his hand from his pocket and tossed an item onto her desk.

Layne leaned forward, reaching out and examining the small metal object in her fingers. Furrowing her brows together, she glanced over at him. “What’s this?”

Proudly smirking, Sam responded with words that were music to her ears, “A name.”

Flipping the rectangular box in her hand repeatedly, she finally noticed there was a latch. Popping the little spring mechanism, the container opened, and inside was an empty bullet casing. Layne picked it up, examining the shell between her thumb and forefinger still unclear what this was supposed to tell her.

She read the words on the bottom of the casing, “Winchester 45 Auto?”

Sam shook his head with a grin. “Do you know what that’s from?”

Well, she was guessing a forty-five-caliber pistol based on the imprinted text.

Knowing that he had her hooked at this point, he dropped the crucial piece of information. “That right there,” he pointed at the casing in her hand, “is from the bullet that struck Joey.”

Her expression immediately changed to one of disbelief as she stared at her associate. “What?” The question was so quiet that it sounded like she was posing it to no one in particular.

Stepping up to the front of her desk, he leaned over, resting his hands on the edge of it. “And as luck would have it, and with a little help from a friend, the three unique markings left behind from the fired round were able to be traced back to a gun. A gun that has been used repeatedly by a very slippery fellow by the name of Nicholas Orellano. So, the real question is, why would Nick allow Liam to borrow something so sentimental to him?”

The final question really wasn’t a question at all. It hardly took any connecting of the dots to assume that this Orellano guy was somehow connected to Liam, perhaps even working with him. Her eyes lit up at finally getting a piece of useful information.

In an unusual and very rare show of girly emotion, she shrieked out happily and popped out of her seat. Closing her palm around the shell, Layne clutched to it like it was a piece of treasure. She ran around her desk and threw herself at Sammy. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she gave him a huge hug.

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