Page 12 of Adored By Them
The sun glints off Sterling’s sign, momentarily blinding as I get out of the truck.Troy and I clock Caleb’s silver Challenger parked on the opposite side of the street.Interesting he’d come to Sterling instead of Scollins’s house.
“I didn’t say we were coming here,” Troy says.“Did you?”
“Nope.”
We go into Sterling.The bar itself is boring and upscale.Zero personality.A polished wood floor, matching tables, a mirror behind the bar reflecting countless bottles of liquor.At this hour, nobody’s around except the bartender getting ready for an early afternoon shift.
“Mr.Layton, sir, good to see you.”
“Thanks.Is Scollins downstairs?”
“Yes.”He chuckles.“Mr.Morraine just asked me the same thing.”
“Morraine’s here, too?”Troy asks.
The bartender nods, his smile disappearing as he realizes how serious we are.“Yes.He went downstairs, maybe a minute ago.He told everyone else to clear out.I told him I can’t leave my post, not without Mr.Layton’s say-so.Would you like me to leave, sir?”
“No.”My heart freezes in my chest.Something is very wrong with this.I don’t know what, yet, but I know it isn’t good.No feelings, though.I can’t allow a single one through.There’s too much at stake.“Morraine went downstairs?”
Troy nudges me forward.His urgency is contagious, and I put on speed.We barrel past the bar and through a door labeledOffice, then take a long set of concrete stairs down toward what my father calls the “hall.”
Halfway down the stairs, I hear two people shouting at each other.I can’t make out the words.Troy and I double our speed.I half-trip, half-run, moving as fast as I can.
“What the hell are you doing?”someone shouts.
A man—sounds like Caleb—yells, “You’re a fucking traitor!”
A gun goes off.The shot echoes in the stairway, deafening.
What the fuck is happening down there?I can’t seem to move fast enough.
“You—you shot—” the words end in a groan.
Fuck, someone got shot?That’ll piss off my father.But his feelings are unimportant.I’m focusing on the wrong issues, trying to make sense of everything happening so fast.
I leap the last few steps and land facing the large hall.Round tables are spaced throughout, but nobody’s sitting at them.The space is lit by dangling lamps finished in stainless steel.They match the edges of the wood-inlaid tables.Cards, chips, cash litter the floor.Looks like Caleb cleared the room without any order or warning.This is even more of a mess.
Caleb stands upright, holding a gun, his broad shoulders heaving.His normally easy smile is nowhere to be seen—instead, his lips are twisted in a snarl as he gazes at the body lying before him.
Darryl Scollins.
Blood is pooling from a gunshot wound to Scollins’s chest.His face is pale, stark against his dark gray beard.The giant crown and rose tattoo on the back of his hand matches the one hidden on my bicep.A gun is held loosely in Scollins’s hand.
Family.Our organization has tried to be about family.
And he betrayed us.
“Fucking traitor.”Caleb kicks Scollins’s leg.
Troy rushes to Scollins’s side.Puts his hand over the wound, trying to staunch the blood flow.“Come on, Scollins.Stay with us.”
At first I wonder—why do we care if he lives or dies?
Then I realize:Danica.Scollins might know where she is.
I turn on Caleb.“What the fuck?Why’d you fucking shoot him?”
“He’s a traitor, man—I figured out what he did!”Caleb lifts the gun like he’s going to shoot Scollins again.“He deserves this and more.”
