Page 84 of Shattering Nash

“Well, no, ’cause that fucking kid went nuts or something a couple days before Zeke was supposed to pick up the product.” Fitch shrugged. “Part of the deal relied on him staying off the drugs. That’s why when he signed on board to be an informant, they made him go to rehab. He got clean, and a month later he was out and making contact with Zeke.”

“That’s a risky move fresh out of rehab.”

Fitch shrugged. “According to my sources, it wasn’t a big problem. At first.”

Nash ground his teeth. “That obviously changed.”

Fitch nodded. “A month ago, Mitchell, who was working as lead, noticed something was off with Cody. Suspected he might be using again, but at that point, Cody had solidified a strong trust with Zeke. They were close enough to nail him. They had him.”

Nash narrowed his gaze. “Obviously, they didn’t.”

“No, ’cause of that fucking kid.” Fitch cleared his throat, pointing to his chest. “That’s why you gotta work with experienced informants. We don’t fuck shit up.”

Nash resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This asshole was proud of his position as a seasoned informant.

“What happened?” Nash snapped.

“Turns out Cody was using and had been for about a month. Enough to get him by without being strung out for his meetings. Who knows, maybe the pressure got to him, but he started freaking out that night, and he needed a fix. Heard he went after his sister. They got into it and something just snapped in him. A neighbor calls it in. Luckily, Mitchell and Becker were able to infiltrate.”

And Charley paid the price.

Nash steeled his emotions, but it was a struggle thinking of Charley forced into a position where she had to defend herself. The idea that anyone would put hands on her had Nash’s blood racing through his veins.

Fitch’s aggravating laugh rang through the room. “And get this. They said the sister, after basically being fucking strangled, didn’t wanna press charges. A little fucking masochist taking that, huh? Maybe she’s into that shit. Who knows. But my opinion? Stupid fucking idiot, that one.”

Nash saw red and lunged forward, grabbed Fitch by the neck, and slammed him against the wall. He drew back his fist and swung hard, landing on Fitch’s nose. The direct hit left no question he’d broken it. Fitch wailed in pain, but Nash didn’t let up on his hold.

“You’re here to give facts, not your fucking commentary!”

Fitch’s throat gurgled, and his eyes bulged. “Sullivan.”

Nash tightened his grip, making it impossible for Fitch to breathe.

Sullivan stepped next to Nash, making no move to separate the men. “If I didn’t need you for a case, I’d let Nash squeeze the life out of you, asshole.”

Nash hadn’t eased up the pressure on his neck. He’d have no problem ending this piece of shit. He’d be doing the world a service. Sullivan tapped him on the shoulder.

“I need him, Nash.”

Fuck!This was one death he would’ve enjoyed.

Nash tightened his hold, squeezing one last time before letting him drop to the floor, gasping for a breath. He circled the room with eyes locked on Fitch. He gave him a minute to recover, but Nash wasn’t finished with his interrogation.

“Did the sister know about any of this?”

“Don’t know.” Fitch coughed, resting his hand over his neck. “All I know is Becker said they told her they were sending her brother to rehab.”

“And did they?”

Fitch licked the blood off his lips. “No.”

“Where the hell is he?”

Fitch shrugged. “That I don’t know.”

Nash stalked forward, and Fitch scrambled to the corner holding up his arms. “I swear, Nash. I don’t know.”

Fuck.This just became increasingly dangerous for not only Charley but Nash’s world. If they had eyes on her, they’d know her connection to the Underground. It left too many questions unanswered.

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