Page 51 of Luke's Revenge (Walker Security - Lucifer's Trilogy 3)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Luke

We end up on an elevator with the big buffoon standing in front of us. I reach into my pocket and check my phone, which is presently downloading his data. That means Blake is already scouring it for information. I’m loving this shit while it works for us, but this is dangerous territory that could backfire if reversed one day. We end up on the third floor, when our guide boy steps into the hallway, with his shoulders all pulled back like a slingshot. He has no idea how much it weakens him, from front to back.

But hey. Better for me if I have to pick a spot to make him hurt.

Or die.

Whatever I need to do, Ana is walking out of here as beautiful and untouched by anyone but me, as she came in here.

Slingshot leads us to the left, toward a double red doorway, which is guarded by Adam. How he made that happen, I don’t know, but my respect for him just continues to climb higher and higher. As for the doors, someone is superstitious, and I like those people as targets. They find a false sense of comfort in all the wrong things, like their money. I already know Phillips uses money as power, which isn’t stupid. Money is power. Just not always the right kind to save your life. Slingshot knocks on the door and it opens.

He steps back and motions us forward. I resist the urge to eye Adam, and to capture Ana’s hand that she might need to reach for her weapon. Side-by-side we step under the massive archway that is just one of the doors. We’re now looking into an office with views of the pool with the mountains as a backdrop. Sitting at the desk, that is center stage is Phillips, and he’s not alone. There’s a bodyguard to his right, standing tall and punching us with a stony headlight stare.

Phillips who is fifty-five, but looks younger, is fit, with salt and pepper, thick hair, and a piercing gaze. He surprises me by standing to greet us, rounding the desk to meet us on this side. Ana and I focus our attention on him, but I have one eye on the guard and an awareness of Slingshot at my back. But Adam is at his. Adam is our ace in the deck. But then so is Savage. Two aces are better than one.

“Welcome,” Phillips greets, offering me his hand, not a blink of sadness, pain, or remorse present over his son’s death.

I accept his hand and he presents a strong grip, but not too strong. It’s practiced. The kind of shake that says I’m your equal but not above you. I don’t believe that to be what he feels, but I respect his ability to deliver the message. “Good to meet you, Luke.” He turns his attention to Ana. “And the lovely Ana, who manages to be both as beautiful as she is a badass. I’ve heard much about your father.”

“Have you now?” she asks, and I notice the way she allows the “father” reference, without correcting him.

“I did my research on you two. Sit, please.” He motions to the chairs in front of the desk and rounds them to claim his own. We all sit.

“I’m sorry to hear about your son,” Ana states, clearly testing him.

His lips flatten. “Stepson from a prior marriage and we weren’t close, but yes, it’s tragic for her, I’m sure. And pardon me if that sounds cold. We men do have our own way of dealing with such things.”

There’s a hollow sound behind those words that tells another story. He is not as cold to Newman’s death as he wants us to believe. “You researched us and followed us,” I say, punching at him, when his mind is elsewhere, “Tell me why.”

“We all know why. I want something Ana’s brother had until his untimely death. The seller can’t seem to produce it, and my insiders inside their operation tell me they once again believe you have it. I just want my treasure. I’m hoping we can cut out the middleman and I can pay you for it and move on.”

“We don’t even know what it is,” Ana replies. “We just know everyone suddenly thinks I have it.”

His eyes fix on Ana. “Why is that?”

“I have no idea. Kasey came home in a casket. It’s not like he handed it to me or hid it at The Ranch. Believe me, I’d hand it over, if I could. I want out of this.”

He leans in closer and studies her, then me, then her again. “I don’t believe you.”

“That doesn’t change my answer,” Ana replies coolly. “And continuing to come at us for something we don’t have is a bit like putting a square peg in a circular hole. It won’t work.”

“It will if you blow up the hole,” he comments dryly.

I decide I’ve had enough. It’s time for answers. “Shouldn’t you be grieving your son, rather than throwing a party?”

His gaze jerks to mine and his lips curve in a twisted smirk. “I could tell you that it’s an annual event for a charity my son supported with all his heart.”

I arch a brow. “But?”

“He became a problem, just as Kasey did for you.”

I laugh and run a hand over my jaw. “Am I supposed to flinch?” I challenge. “Or is she? Not happening. But when we think about who’s pissed at who, it sounds like you have an impatient buyer on your hands.”

“Extremely impatient.”

“I already told your people—because I assume the goons chasing us are, in fact, your people, that I’d find what you want. For the right price, that is, but I need to actually know what I’m looking for.” I leave it at that. I’ve volleyed back to him, and now I wait, to find out if he’s going to tell me he’s the buyer or the seller.

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