Page 67 of Ruthless

Bad idea.

I knew it was a bad idea, and the Ford Bronco behind me—the same one that was there for the exchange—only reiterated my thoughts on the matter. For all I knew, I was walking right to my death… But that was a chance I was willing to take.

However, as I turned into Rachel’s driveway, something felt wrong. I put my truck in park, and slid out, my gut nagging at me. My eyes shifted to the door, where a camera was mounted. With a little digging, I had found that Lucas had installed a wad of fucking cameras around Rachel’s place, being nearly as thorough as I would’ve been. It had given me a sense of security for her…

But that red blinking light on it caused me concern.

“Trevor?” A voice behind me caught my attention, and I spun around to see Lucas, expecting him to be pointing a damn gun at me or something.

But he wasn’t.

And for some reason, that left me even more unsettled.

I studied him, never having seen him this close up in person. I had only ever watched him from afar, and there were no pictures of him to be found on the internet. I figured it was because of his mob ties and wanting to keep a low profile.

“Do you recognize me?” Lucas asked, his expression weary as his foot tapped on the gravel drive.

I blinked a couple of times, racking my brain. Something about him was incredibly familiar up close, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. He had a razor-sharp jaw line, and a strong nose—much like my…

No way.

It’s impossible.

“My brother is dead,” I manage to say, though the longer I looked at him the more familiar he looked. He didn’t have the right color of hair or eyes. His eyes were light green, not dark brown.

“Well, yeah, Ricardo is dead,” Lucas answered, shifting onto his heels. “But that’s because I killed him.”

I took a step back, my hand going to my pistol in the back of my waistband. “Who the fuck are you?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes gazing past me, up to the porch. “Wait a minute…” his voice trailed off. He suddenly surged past me, careening up the steps to just below the video camera.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Did you do this?” Lucas—or whoever he was—demanded from the top of the stairs. “Please fucking tell me that you were the one who disabled these cameras!”

I shook my head, the realization setting in. “Were you not checking them?”

“I was at the office before this meeting, getting everything ready for tonight—I had just heard from Rachel…” He pulled out his phone and looked down at something. “Anhourago. Rachel!” He banged on the door, his strength showing in the moment.

Victor.

I whipped my phone out, scrolling to the number of my contact that was supposed to be keeping an eye on Victor. I hit the call button and put it to my ear.

And it went straight to voicemail.

No, no, no…

I called it three more times, and every time it went to voicemail. I shut my eyes for a moment, taking a breath. He fucking outsmarted me. I had been so consumed with meeting Rachel this evening, that I wasn’t being diligent in my surveillance. I didn’t even realize that my contact missed his six o’clock call.

“I’m coming in,” Lucas shouted, leaning back and giving the door a massive kick. The frame splintered, and the door swung open. He turned to look back at me. “I swear, I was watching these fucking cameras like a hawk.”

I nodded, meeting his gaze—and then the realization hit me like a freight train. “Holy shit, you’re Nate.” My mind flashed to the image of a teenager with the same colored eyes and elongated nose, my half-brother and my father’s second mistress’s son. I had long pushed him from my mind. “I wondered what the hell happened to you. I figured…”

“We can talk later,” he shook his head, surging through the open doorway. “Rachel! Rach—”

I headed into the house, stopping right beside where Lucas was frozen in his steps. My eyes took in the dark red writing on the wall.

Got her.

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