Page 97
Story: Gray Area
I am, however, paralyzed. The second I saw him come through the door, I feared what he was going to say, and I don’t want to hear him say what it is I am terrified he will.
“Vivian,” he groans out.
Axel and Slade immediately look at me and then retrain their stares onto Kent. Our security team, whose fucking response time is a huge fucking problem that I am sure Axel will deal with later, comes bursting in the door.
“Go and fucking get the cars ready,” I shout at them, their appearance pulling me from my trance. I crouch down to Kent. “Who has Vivian?” I demand.
Kent gasps and I exchange a look with Axel who interprets it and pulls Kent back up to his feet, keeping his arms restrained behind him.
“Who?” I bark out again.
“Matthews,” he says.
I search my thoughts and look at my brothers. Slade shrugs, and Axel shakes his head minutely. “Who the fuck is that?” I shout into Kent’s face, watching him recoil from me.
“He took her,” he repeats.
I look up and see the entire office staring into the boardroom. I cross over to the doorway. “The work day is over,” I announce, impressed by how steady my voice is right now. “Thank you all for your continued persistence in this hectic transition. Please enjoy the rest of the day,” I say, and then slam the door shut.
I pull Kent from my brother by his shirt front, surprising both of them, and throw him into one of the chairs next to us.
“You better fucking give me some useful information, or I am going to tear your fucking dick from your body and stuff it in your mouth.”
Kent swallows. “I went home this morning from the hotel, and Matthews and his thugs were waiting for me there. Theyroughed me up and then Vivian came by while they were there, and they took her,” he whines.
I slap Kent so hard, Will Smith would be proud, and then I grab him by the collar again and pull him up to my face. “Stop your fucking whining and tell me who the fuck this Matthews is,” I growl in his face before I throw him back into the chair. The gaping holes in his stories are costing me time that could be vital.
He’s startled, but he recovers enough to speak again. “He’s a weapons dealer here on the East Coast.”
“Why the fuck would a weapons dealer take Vivian?” I ask. This is making less sense the more fucking Kent speaks.
“Because I didn’t deliver my end of the deal,” he says sorrowfully, appearing disappointed in himself. “He approached me last week and offered to fund my entire campaign for senate.”
“In exchange for what?” There is no way an arms dealer did this out of the goodness of his heart.
Kent meets my eyes. “For you.”
“For Declan?” Slade chimes in, his tone much darker.
“Yes,” Kent says. “He offered to fund the entirety of my campaign if I could find a way to deliver you to him by today.”
I look at Slade and then at Axel. “You know about this fucking guy?” I ask them. “Have either of you heard anything about a Matthews?”
Slade shakes his head, never taking his eyes or his gun off Kent. “Nope, but I have a feeling there is more to this story,” he muses, tilting his head as he watches Kent.
Kent now looks even more terrified if it is possible. “I don’t know any more,” he stammers out quickly. “He offered me money and he knew you were going to be at the Feed the Nation Gala and so was I. He said if I could get you to him by today, he would give me the money. No strings attached.”
“No strings attached. How very unlike an illegal gun dealer,” Slade points out.
Slade’s right. “You couldn’t deliver, so they fucked you up?” I ask Kent, and he nods feverishly in response. “Yeah, but see, I don’t know too many weapons dealers who are going to just leave someone alive who can run their mouth,” I tell him. I watch Kent’s pupils dilate before my eyes.
“So something tells me you were getting a beating and you offered them something else,” I say, studying Kent closely. He stiffens. “What did you say to them, Kent? Hmm? What did you tell them to stop them from killing you?” I ask, my voice soft, and it’s an effort to keep it that way. I have a rage thundering in my chest like a freight train, like a lion roar, ready to blast open with the force of a tornado all over Kent. But I need answers, and if I do that I don’t get them and can’t find Vivian.
But Kent doesn’t say anything.
So Axel gets in front of him. “My brother asked you a question,” he says just above a whisper. “And I know you have an answer, but I also know we aren’t going to like it. So you can either just tell us now, or we can fucking torture you until you tell us.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Vivian,” he groans out.
Axel and Slade immediately look at me and then retrain their stares onto Kent. Our security team, whose fucking response time is a huge fucking problem that I am sure Axel will deal with later, comes bursting in the door.
“Go and fucking get the cars ready,” I shout at them, their appearance pulling me from my trance. I crouch down to Kent. “Who has Vivian?” I demand.
Kent gasps and I exchange a look with Axel who interprets it and pulls Kent back up to his feet, keeping his arms restrained behind him.
“Who?” I bark out again.
“Matthews,” he says.
I search my thoughts and look at my brothers. Slade shrugs, and Axel shakes his head minutely. “Who the fuck is that?” I shout into Kent’s face, watching him recoil from me.
“He took her,” he repeats.
I look up and see the entire office staring into the boardroom. I cross over to the doorway. “The work day is over,” I announce, impressed by how steady my voice is right now. “Thank you all for your continued persistence in this hectic transition. Please enjoy the rest of the day,” I say, and then slam the door shut.
I pull Kent from my brother by his shirt front, surprising both of them, and throw him into one of the chairs next to us.
“You better fucking give me some useful information, or I am going to tear your fucking dick from your body and stuff it in your mouth.”
Kent swallows. “I went home this morning from the hotel, and Matthews and his thugs were waiting for me there. Theyroughed me up and then Vivian came by while they were there, and they took her,” he whines.
I slap Kent so hard, Will Smith would be proud, and then I grab him by the collar again and pull him up to my face. “Stop your fucking whining and tell me who the fuck this Matthews is,” I growl in his face before I throw him back into the chair. The gaping holes in his stories are costing me time that could be vital.
He’s startled, but he recovers enough to speak again. “He’s a weapons dealer here on the East Coast.”
“Why the fuck would a weapons dealer take Vivian?” I ask. This is making less sense the more fucking Kent speaks.
“Because I didn’t deliver my end of the deal,” he says sorrowfully, appearing disappointed in himself. “He approached me last week and offered to fund my entire campaign for senate.”
“In exchange for what?” There is no way an arms dealer did this out of the goodness of his heart.
Kent meets my eyes. “For you.”
“For Declan?” Slade chimes in, his tone much darker.
“Yes,” Kent says. “He offered to fund the entirety of my campaign if I could find a way to deliver you to him by today.”
I look at Slade and then at Axel. “You know about this fucking guy?” I ask them. “Have either of you heard anything about a Matthews?”
Slade shakes his head, never taking his eyes or his gun off Kent. “Nope, but I have a feeling there is more to this story,” he muses, tilting his head as he watches Kent.
Kent now looks even more terrified if it is possible. “I don’t know any more,” he stammers out quickly. “He offered me money and he knew you were going to be at the Feed the Nation Gala and so was I. He said if I could get you to him by today, he would give me the money. No strings attached.”
“No strings attached. How very unlike an illegal gun dealer,” Slade points out.
Slade’s right. “You couldn’t deliver, so they fucked you up?” I ask Kent, and he nods feverishly in response. “Yeah, but see, I don’t know too many weapons dealers who are going to just leave someone alive who can run their mouth,” I tell him. I watch Kent’s pupils dilate before my eyes.
“So something tells me you were getting a beating and you offered them something else,” I say, studying Kent closely. He stiffens. “What did you say to them, Kent? Hmm? What did you tell them to stop them from killing you?” I ask, my voice soft, and it’s an effort to keep it that way. I have a rage thundering in my chest like a freight train, like a lion roar, ready to blast open with the force of a tornado all over Kent. But I need answers, and if I do that I don’t get them and can’t find Vivian.
But Kent doesn’t say anything.
So Axel gets in front of him. “My brother asked you a question,” he says just above a whisper. “And I know you have an answer, but I also know we aren’t going to like it. So you can either just tell us now, or we can fucking torture you until you tell us.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
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