Page 67 of Lost Kingdom

“You’re a fucking asshole, Lix. You come out here with your obnoxiously cheerful bullshit and you pretend you’re better than the dude who came before you. But you’re still his son, and when you have to choose between business and family, seems you’re comfortable choosing work.”

“I choose businessbecausebusiness protects my family. Don’t you dare question the lengths I’ll go to protect you ungrateful motherfuckers. I’m busy. So unless you’ve got something important to say?—”

“Nah, I’m good.” I hang up and crush the phone in my palm, anger coursing through my veins and sparking at the ends of my fingers. Rage burns me up. Because I’m the prick for questioning Felix when I know damn well he’s done nothing but protect the rest of us. I’m a dick for calling him out when his world is currently on fire. And now I’m on my side of the country, not doing shit all about cleaning up the streets I was born to rule. “Fuck!”

I cross my apartment and jerk the fridge door open, for no reason except to expel energy and give myself a moment to think. But I shut it again and release my grip on the phone. Then I dial Archer. Because he’s both: Malone and cop. And I’m not entirely sure which I need more right now.

“Yeah?” The precinct bustles around him. Cops coming and going, and orders shouted across a bullpen I make a point of staying out of. “What’s up?”

“Nathan Booth.”

“It’s not my case, but everyone is up in arms about it. They’re putting a task force together to bottle this shit up. Lieutenant Fabian has excluded me, though. He says it gets messy when we go to court.”

“He’s not wrong. Did you hear about Cordoza yet?”

He stops. His breath stops. His entire fucking life stops, if only for a second. “What happened to Cordoza?”

“Someone took a shot at him. Lix just told me.”

“He dead?”

“No. They missed. But Lix is stressed the fuck out, and now I’ve said some hurtful shit and left another scar on his heart. I was named after the old prick; it’s fitting I’d be just like him.”

“A name isn’t a destiny. And whatever you said can be fixed. Does he know who targeted Cordoza? Are they dead yet?”

“Don’t know. I didn’t get to that part, and now we’ve hung up. Do you know who took out Booth’s men? Because last I checked, Booth was building a sizable army of runners here in Copeland. If someone else is taking a swipe, then that someone else is powerful and looking to usurp the leader.”

“Don’t know, but one of the investigating officers has an informant, and that informant said he heard it was one of Booth’s own men. Unhappy with management or some shit. No confirmation yet, though. The girls have the six bodies down at the George Stanley. Pisses me right off every time they catch these cases.”

“Yeah. Same. Aubree said they’re not tossing them back. They’re gonna autopsy them and process the case out.”

“Stubborn.” He sits back in his chair and groans. “What do you need from me?”

“I don’t know.” I turn to my counter and lean over it. Pressing my elbows to the cheap laminate, and scrubbing my free hand through my hair. “One of Booth’s guys came into the bar a few minutes ago. Seems Duane Emeri has racked up another debt, and Booth is looking to collect.”

“Wait.” His chair squeaks as he shoots up tall. “What? Duane Emeri? As in?—”

“Aubree’s brother. He’s been a constant pain in my ass for months, screwing around at Sarge’s and getting his ass beat when he doesn’t pay. So I step in and take care of it.”

“Tim!” He shoves up from his squeaking chair. “Are you fucking kidding me? And you’re only telling menow?”

“Didn’t figure it was any of your business.”

“What about Aubree?” he growls. “Is it her business?”

“Nope. She doesn’t need to know her baby brother is a fuckwit, and she sure as shit doesn’t have to know she has a target on her back every time he rebuilds that debt. I’ve been taking care of it, and I talked to Duane last week, hoping to make him see sense.”

“But?”

“But he’s a moron. Emeri parents must’ve run out of brain cells by the time they got to the last kid, because Aubree got more than she needed, and he got none. The kid is too fucking young for the lines of credit he’s been given, and he’s too impulsive to get it under control. He thinks it’s cute that I’ll swoop in and clean up, because he knows I’ll do what I need to do to protect Aubree. Meanwhile, he keeps going back and losing more.”

“They’ll come for her if he doesn’t pay. Which means you’ll always clean up,” he growls. “Fuck, Tim. You’re on the hook for the rest of your life,oruntil he dies,oruntil you make a public claim and she becomes your wife.”

“Yeah, well…” My heart gives a heavy knock. “Yeah. Like I said, I took care of it.”

“Don’t fucking say it.” He steamrolls into an office and shuts the door so the walls rattle. “Don’t you fuckin— Cordoza?That’sthe deal you made with Cordoza?!”

“Sort of.”

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