Page 16 of Cruel King

9

CATHAL

The penthouse is dimly lit as we enter, with night falling around us. The shadows stretching across the floor like gory tendrils taunt me.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. The tension in the room is suffocating, and my whole body aches from head to toe.

“You okay?” Ciarán asks, shutting the door behind us.

“Fine,” I grit out, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Just want to get this open.”

Nodding, he crosses to his laptop and opens it, sitting on the sofa and holding out his hand.

Opening the box reveals a cold, metallic object inside. It’s a USB drive.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here,” Ciarán mutters.

I can’t answer. In the pit of my stomach, dread coils tighter, but I need to know the truth, no matter how ugly it may be.

Handing it over, he plugs the USB into the laptop, waiting as it scans and loads the content.

Leaning over the back of the sofa, I glare at the screen and blink. “Who the fuck is that?” I ask after a few seconds of staring.

“Fucked if I know,” Ciarán says, holding the laptop up by the sides so he can get a better look at the grainy image of some asshole in a black hoodie, bending down next to the Ferrari.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters and throws the laptop onto the coffee table where it bounces onto the floor and turns off. “What the fuck good is this?”

Inhaling deeply, I try not to blow my top. It will do no good and it might scare Summer. She is lurking near the door, almost as if she doesn’t want to come in.

“You okay?” I growl, running a hand through my hair in irritation that this video proved nothing.

“Erm, yeah?”

“That’s a question, Tinks. Try again,” Ciarán says, standing up and going to her. “You get spooked before? With Ruby?”

Summer shakes her head. “No, not with her. She’s nice...”

My snort of amusement does nothing to quell Summer’s anxiety.

“It’s just, I saw someone. One of your guys, I guess. He came into the warehouse a few minutes after you left me in the car.”

“Oh?” I move in closer. She has my full attention now. “Did he hurt you?”

She shakes her head. “No, he didn’t even see me, but I saw him.”

“You know him?”

She shrugs. “Forget it, it’s stupid.”

“No,” I say, going to her. “It’s not stupid if you have your concerns. Your safety is more important than anything.”

“Even your own?”

Her challenge is a piece of piss. “Every time.”

She smiles softly. “Well, I wasn’t in danger. I just thought I recognized him. He has a leather jacket on and a faded t-shirt. Tall-ish, graying hair, late forties.”

Ciarán frowns. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

---