Page 60 of Corrupted Union

I stood as Oran strolled to take his seat behind the desk. I kept my body language casual, but I was keenly aware of my holstered gun, loaded and ready. Men were nothing but animals when cornered. I didn’t want to think my cousin was capable of shooting at us, but his back was firmly against the wall. Figuratively and literally.

“We’d like to talk to you about some issues that have come to light.”

“I see. And what would those be?”

“Most recently, I happened to see a couple of SIG 550s in the possession of someone who shouldn’t have had them.”

“Who?” His stare hardened.

“Men working for Damyon. The Shadow.” I didn’t give him more information. I found my interrogations more productive when I let my subject squirm.

“Could the guns have been sourced elsewhere?” he asked, not overly nervous.

“Doubtful. You know that. Not military grade, like ours were.”

He rubbed his chin absently. “I suppose they could have been behind the theft, but how could they have known about the shipment?”

The room was silent, our stares three sets of deadly daggers pointed at Oran.

“That’s what we’d like to know,” I finally said.

He snapped from his thoughts, his eyes slowly roving from one of us to the next. “You don’t seriously think I had something to do with that?”

“You tell us. You’ve been the one pushing to keep gun operations running. You took lead on the deal. You were the only one with full knowledge of the details.”

“This is fucking insane,” he growled, flashing his teeth. “You can’t possibly believe I’d betray my family like that.”

“I don’t know, Oran. Maybe betrayal comes easy to you. I saw you talking multiple times with that young server from downstairs as though you two knew each other well.Verywell. I wouldn’t have thought you’d disrespect your new wife like that, either. Our father’s taught us better. Yet, oddly enough, she disappeared not long after I noticed you two together. Just never showed up for work one day. But I don’t suppose you’d happen to know anything about that either.”

Oran pointed his finger at me, fury flashing in his eyes. “I was trying to help her. And I don’t know anything about her disappearing.” His adamant denials made my anger blister.

“Then how the fuck do you explain the fact that you were the only one who knew your father had decided to stop by Moxy the night he died?” I shot back at him. “It wasn’t part of his routine. You expect us to believe it was a coincidence?”

Oran shot to his feet, slamming his hands on the desk on his way up. In the same heartbeat, Torin, Conner, and I drew our guns.

“I didNOTset my father up to die. Losing him fuckingguttedme, and if taking a bullet is what I have to do to prove that, thenpull the goddamn trigger.” Oran’s eyes blazed.

Seconds ticked by. Five. Ten. Fifteen.

I slowly lowered my gun, though my cousins kept theirs raised. “Then how do you explain it all, Oran? Because we need some fucking answers.”

His anger flickered and faded to something that resembled dread. He placed his hands flat on the desk, leaning as though weary from the weight of his burden. “I hadn’t said anything because I couldn’t ever get proof, and I hated to make allegations I couldn’t support. Not allegations like this.” He slowly lifted his head until his tormented gaze met mine. “Caitlin knew. She was the one who made the call to Dad asking him to stop by the club for me. I had a splitting headache and asked her to call him while I lay down.”

The room exploded into a deafening silence.

Caitlin? Sweet, demure Caitlin? Was he trying to blame everything on her? I peered at my cousins on either side of me, trying to understand what was happening, but they wore confused expressions that matched my own.

“What exactly are you implying?” I demanded.

Conner lowered his gun but took a menacing step forward. “You throwing your own fucking wife to the wolves just to save yourself?”

“You three truly think I’m capable of that?” Oran sneered, his eyes cutting to each of us.

My hackles raised. “You’d be forced to come to the same conclusions as us if you were in our position. Now, tell us whatever the fuck it is you have to say.”

He took a deep, weary breath, his shoulders sagging. “Something didn’t sit right after Dad’s death. I couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling that it was all too coincidental, but I didn’t know how else to explain it. Then the guns were stolen.” He ran a hand through his hair. “My notes about the exchange were at my home office, thinking it was safer than here at the club. No one else knew anything about the drop. I hadn’t even told our guys about the shipment when I normally would have, but Dad’s death had me paranoid. A day later, the guns were gone. Another baffling coincidence—how unlucky was it that someone just happened to come across the shipment and steal it? But again, I had no direct evidence implicating Caitlin or anyone else. How the fuck was I supposed to accuse my wife of that shit without a stitch of evidence? We might not have been childhood sweethearts, but she’s my fuckingwife. I didn’t know what to do except start watching her like a hawk.”

“You keep your home office locked?” I asked.

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