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"Including someone trying to run him down?" Based on what we found out from the hired gun, Digger had made it look like he'd taken the money and run, so as Matty was still very much alive, Coombes would think he'd been double-crossed.
Coombes set down his glass with deliberate care. "I see Matthew has been telling tales. Unfortunate, but not surprising. He's always had a flair for the dramatic. I was once dragged all the way to his school because he'd threatened suicide. It was simple attention-seeking."
How I didn't put a bullet in that lying mouth I had no idea. Suicide?My poor, sweet baby.
I reined myself in, aware that if I alienated Coombes, I would blow any chance of getting the information I needed. “If you’re so concerned about him, why was he living in a hovel and working for minimum wage?” The apartment was nice and well cared for, but if I made it sound like I thought the place a dump it made it sound like I was open to a better arrangement.
Coombes sniffed, clearly agreeing with me. "Matthew chose that lifestyle. I offered him a perfectly comfortable apartment in one of my buildings, but he refused. Pride, I suppose. He's always been stubborn that way."
"He's stuck at it though," I observed, watching Coombes's reaction carefully.
He frowned, tapping his manicured fingernails against the bar. "Yes, well, desperation makes people do foolish things. Which brings us back to my offer." He opened his checkbook. "Five hundred thousand. Clean break. Everyone wins."
I pretended to consider, taking another slow sip of bourbon. "That's... tempting," I admitted, watching hope flicker in his cold eyes. "But I'm not sure it's enough."
"Seven hundred and fifty thousand," he countered immediately, confirming my suspicion that his first offer had been deliberately low. "But that's my final offer."
I stroked my beard thoughtfully. "It's not just about the money. Marriage has its... benefits."
Coombes's lip curled slightly. "I find that hard to believe, given Matthew's... proclivities."
"You'd be surprised," I said with a deliberate smirk, enjoying the flash of disgust on his face. "But I'm a reasonable man, and even though I enjoy a hot, willing body, I have to admit your offer would pay for many more. Let me think about it."
"Don't think too long," Coombes warned, sliding a business card across the bar. "My offer has an expiration date."
"How long?" I asked, pocketing the card.
"One week," he replied firmly. "After that, things might become... complicated."
The threat was thinly veiled, but I kept my expression neutral. "I'll be in touch."
Coombes nodded, satisfied he'd made progress. He finished his bourbon in one swift motion and, standing, threw a fifty down next to his empty glass. "A pleasure meeting you, Mr. Sousa. I look forward to our future business relationship."
As he walked away, Ashley emerged from the back, her expression worried. "Boss?"
"Call Jono if you haven't already," I said quietly. "Tell him Coombes just left. I want someone tailing him, but discreetly.” Although if he was going back to his estate, tailing him would be impossible. She nodded, already pulling out her phone. I downed the rest of my bourbon, the rage I'd been suppressing during the conversation threatening to boil over. The casual way Coombes had dismissed Matty, the disdain in his voice when he'd mentioned his "childish episodes"—it took everything in me not to follow him into the parking lot and beat him senseless.
But I needed to be smarter than that. I had him thinking I might be bought. That could be useful. And hopefully give us a week’s breathing room.
Then I had another thought. How exactly did Matty's godfather know about his Little side?
And the suicide attempt. Fuck, I was going to cover Matty in bubble wrap.
I stood, leaving cash on the bar. "I'm heading back. Have Ben call me when he's feeling better."
"Will do, boss," Ashley replied. "And congrats on the marriage. We're all real happy for you."
I nodded my thanks and left, my mind racing. Coombes had revealed more than he realized. His casual dismissal of Matty's "childish episodes" confirmed he knew about Matty's Little side and saw it as something shameful. Something to be hidden away...my hands tightened on the steering wheel as I drove back to the club.
By the time I pulled into the compound, I'd regained some control over my anger. The prospects at the gate were doubled, and I noticed additional security measures had been implemented since the breach. Good. I wasn't taking any more chances with Matty's safety.
As I parked and headed toward the clubhouse, I could hear laughter coming from the kitchen. I followed the sound, pausingin the doorway to take in the scene. Matty stood at the counter, flour dusting his nose and cheeks, carefully decorating what looked like chocolate cupcakes. Maria was beside him, guiding his hand as he piped frosting into wobbly swirls. Three of the old ladies sat at the table, chatting and sampling the finished products.
Matty was the first to notice me, his face lighting up with pure joy. "Daddy, look what I made." He held up a cupcake with lopsided frosting and multicolored sprinkles.
"That looks amazing, little one," I said, crossing the room to examine his creation more closely. "Did you save one for me?"
"I saved you three," Matty declared, pointing to a small plate set aside. "The chocolate ones are the best."