Page 146 of Silent Vendetta (Vendetta Duet)

“He let you pre-approve every single question and is abiding by the legal contract you made him sign.” That gave Hunter full rights to the audio and the right to walk off if he felt uncomfortable.

Hunter exchanged a look with me as Sean walked over and clapped his hands.

“Ready?” Sean motioned for him to take a seat.

Hunter glared at the microphone like it might give him a rash while Sean introduced Hunter Lockwood and started a respectful, noninvasive podcast—but an exclusive one that Sean was thrilled to get.

When it was over, Sean thanked us profusely and got to work breaking down the equipment.

“Not punching him is harder than giving up murder,” Hunter mumbled.

I smirked and kissed my ex-killer on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Just as Grayson’s number came across Hunter’s cell phone screen.

CHAPTER78

Hunter

“What’s going on?” I asked, an anchor sinking my heart as I took in my brother’s tense posture.

Grayson sat hunched at the dimly lit bar, nursing a scotch, his every movement betraying unease.

But now that I was looking closer, he’d been talking to someone.

“Hunter,” Grayson murmured. “Didn’t expect you so soon.”

Grayson’s gaze shifted to the figure to his left, and they locked eyes before the mystery man stood up and slapped his hand on my brother’s back.

“Phone’s always on,” the guy said to him, then looked at me.

I narrowed my eyes, recognition flickering. Then blazing on.

“Hunter, this is Dillon,” Grayson said. “Dillon, this is Hunter, my brother.”

Dillon extended his hand and held it there for several seconds before putting it back down.

“Why are you talking tohim?” I scowled, pointing my finger at Dillon.

Grayson shot me a look, his eyes sharp with a silent warning.

I glared at the guy. “You were that criminal kingpin all over the news.” Not active anymore, supposedly, but the guy had a lot of dead bodies he’d racked up. The only reason he hadn’t fit my code was because the people he’d killed had been violent criminals.

But what the hell was he doing with my brother?

“I’ll see you later, Grayson,” Dillon said. “Good luck.”

Good luck. With what? Me? Or whatever the hell Grayson had brought me here to talk about?

I watched in repulsion as Dillon McPherson ambled out of the bar, off to do god knows what.

“You know who he is?” I demanded.

“Yes.”

“What are you doing, talking to a guy like that?”

Grayson raised an eyebrow. “A guy like what?”

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