Page 91 of Poisoned Pawn

“Leave it here,” I tell him, and before he can argue, I add, “Leave it here or leave it in there. They find it on you, they’ll take it, and you won’t be getting it back.

“This is a fucking joke. Worse than The Watchtower,” he grumbles, dumping his gun in the glovebox.

“The Watchtower is Switzerland, but this place is more like fucking Russia.”

“What about you?” he asks as we exit the car.

“I could take a fucking bomb in there and no one would question me.”

I might not be a Shadow Guard anymore, but Lennox never revoked my access. Especially not to here. If it was headquarters that would be different, but this place is part office and part training, and just so happens to be where Lennox lives on the top floor. It used to be my home too, and besides, half of it is mine.

“I thought you could fight,” I tease as we walk toward the elevator.

“Fuck you. This is like bringing a knife to a gun fight. Not fucking cool, man.”

I laugh as I press my thumb against the pad beside the elevator. It turns green and pings, then the door slides open.

All humour dissolves as I watch the numbers rising to the fifth floor. When the doors slide open, Lennox is standing there waiting. He’s wearing a sharp black suit with diamond cuff links poking out from beneath the sleeve of his jacket where his hands are casually resting inside his trouser pockets. The white shirt he’s wearing is sans tie and open at the collar displaying his caramel skin beneath.

Either side of him is a Shadow, and they draw their weapons as soon as they see us.

We step out of the elevator and stop in front of him.

“Search him,” Lennox orders, pointing to Maddox.

One of the Shadow’s steps forward intending to search Maddox, who raises his arms.

“A bit OTT, don’t you think?” I say to Lennox as the Shadow finishes his search of Maddox and takes up his position beside Lennox. I ignore the compulsion to punch the fucker.

“No, Carter, I don’t. You bring a fucking Lawler to my place I’m going to search him.”

“Well then you should count your lucky stars it wasn’t Kavanagh ‘cause that was the other choice.” I arch a brow at him letting him know he’s had a lucky escape from being shot on sight. Especially given the prospect that Lennox is more involved than just providing the Shadow that tried to kill Star. There’s even a chance I might still shoot the bastard.

“You want to do this here or in your office?” I ask scanning the room and eyeballing several Shadows who are watching us closely.

Lennox spins on his heel and strides across the room, heading for his office. I nod to a couple of Shadows I recognise then step into Lennox’s office after him with Maddox behind. The two Shadows with Lennox enter too and close the door.

“I watched an interesting video this morning. Got any idea what that might have been?” I ask, taking a seat in one of the four chairs around a square coffee table. I’m relaxed enough being here even though there is clear tension in the room. Maddox takes the seat beside me, scanning the room.

“I’d imagine it’s the same one I received. What you think that has to do with me I don’t know.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Lennox. Kir hired the Shadow to take out Star Kavanagh. Are you telling me you didn’t know?”

He sits back in his seat, resting his foot on his knee, but his brow is creased into a frown. “Of course, I knew. I authorised it. But we already covered this shit when I spoke to you after you took out another one of my Shadows.”

“And I’m prepared to take out plenty fucking more if you don’t stop fucking me around. This fake arse innocent crap is starting to grate on me.”

“I’ve afforded you a lot of…lenience over the last few years. There aren’t many who have managed to leave the Shadow Guard and still be breathing. Our agreement—”

“Our agreement is built on a fucking lie. Rook isn’t dead, Lennox. He’s very much a-fucking-live and the mastermind behind all this shit.” I’m wondering if the video Lennox received was the same one as I did. “Did you listen to the audio on the video?”

Lennox shakes his head. “There was no audio. What the hell are you talking about?”

Maddox and I share a look. I decide to try a different line of questioning because clearly we are not singing from the same hymn sheet.

“Who was the Shadow with Rook the night I took him out?”

“It doesn’t matter—”

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