Page 32

“Evening.” Nash circled the room.

Fitch’s hand stilled with the cigarette at his lips as soon as he locked eyes with Nash.

“Ah, fuck.” Fitch shot a glare at Sullivan. “This is your friend? A little fucking heads up would’ve been nice.” Fitch shook his head and took a drag.

“It’s a pleasure to see you too, Fitch.”

Fitch licked his lips, and the corner of his eyes crinkled. He was formulating a plan. Or at best an approach. This should be interesting. He cleared his throat, tossing his cigarette in the can near his chair. “Any chance you’ll throw me some cash for the info?”

Nash narrowed his gaze, shifting it to Sullivan. He rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. Fitch was playing his hand. A respectable move. But not with Nash.

“No chance at all. But” —He smiled at Fitch and cocked his head— “I will let you live.”

“This is bullshit.” He coughed and pushed up from his seat. “Some of us are hustling out here, Nash. I got bills, man. Gotta eat.” He side-eyed Nash. “A hundred bucks?”

“No.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, clearly annoyed he wouldn’t make money for the intel.

There was always a possibility of danger in any meeting. But Nash didn’t expect any from Fitch. He was outnumbered. He may have been untrustworthy and shady to put it mildly, but he wasn’t dumb. It’s the only reason he’d survived this long.

Nash folded his arms. “Tell me about Mitchell, Becker, and Cody Hudson.”

There was a long stretch of silence.

It seemed Fitch was being stubborn. Nash lifted his chin, and Ridge stalked forward. Fitch backed into the wall and tried to skitter away, but he was no match for Ridge, who grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed him against the wall. The pained grunt echoed in the room.

Fitch held up his hands and blurted. “All right, man. Go easy.”

“Let’s try this again…” Nash arched his brow.

Fitch drew in a breath, accepting defeat. “So the kid, Cody, got busted by Mitchell and Becker a few months ago. First offense, I think, but this kid was fucking scared. Now, the kid’s supplier is a local guy, Zeke Neal, and Mitchell and Becker have been watching Zeke.”

“Why would they care about a small-time local dealer?” Nash asked.

“’Cause he ain’t small. He just flies under the radar. He works under Anders’ crew. Word has it Anders took a liking to the kid, and he’s moving up. If they can get Zeke to give them the information on Anders, that’ll be a big take down.”

“What exactly was their plan with Cody Hudson?” Sullivan asked.

“It was actually a pretty good one. They got Cody to agree to set Zeke up. Cody went in and told Zeke he wanted to get in the business. Cody offers to hold the drugs at his house. That way if Zeke’s place got busted, they wouldn’t have anything on him.

All the while, Mitchell and Becker are calculating everything Cody’s holding.

And it’s a lot. Zeke set up a pickup with Cody.

Mitchell and Becker would watch the pickup, and when Zeke left, they’d follow him and bust him.

With that amount of product, Zeke would be looking at a long-term prison sentence.

Then Mitchell and Becker offer him a deal, become an informant, have him go undercover so they can bust Anders.

” Fitch smiled, eyeing the men. “It’s a pretty fucking solid plan. ”

It was an absurd plan and one that wouldn’t work in the end. If Anders even heard a rumbling of Zeke being taken in, he’d have him killed before morning. There were so many holes and what ifs in this plan. It was clearly orchestrated by people who had no idea of the innerworkings of the business.

“That wasn’t how it played out,” Nash said, and Fitch laughed.

“Well, no, ’cause that fucking kid went nuts or something a couple days before Zeke was supposed to pick up the product.

” Fitch shrugged. “Part of the deal relied on him staying off the drugs. That’s why when he signed on board to be an informant, they made him go to rehab.

He got clean, and a month later he was out and making contact with Zeke. ”

“That’s a risky move fresh out of rehab.”

Fitch shrugged. “According to my sources, it wasn’t a big problem. At first.”

Nash ground his teeth. “That obviously changed.”

Fitch nodded. “A month ago, Mitchell, who was working as lead, noticed something was off with Cody. Suspected he might be using again, but at that point, Cody had solidified a strong trust with Zeke. They were close enough to nail him. They had him.”

Nash narrowed his gaze. “Obviously, they didn’t.”

“No, ’cause of that fucking kid.” Fitch cleared his throat, pointing to his chest. “That’s why you gotta work with experienced informants. We don’t fuck shit up.”

Nash resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This asshole was proud of his position as a seasoned informant.

“What happened?” Nash snapped.

“Turns out Cody was using and had been for about a month. Enough to get him by without being strung out for his meetings. Who knows, maybe the pressure got to him, but he started freaking out that night, and he needed a fix. Heard he went after his sister. They got into it and something just snapped in him. A neighbor calls it in. Luckily, Mitchell and Becker were able to infiltrate.”

And Charley paid the price.

Nash steeled his emotions, but it was a struggle thinking of Charley forced into a position where she had to defend herself. The idea that anyone would put hands on her had Nash’s blood racing through his veins.

Fitch’s aggravating laugh rang through the room. “And get this. They said the sister, after basically being fucking strangled, didn’t wanna press charges. A little fucking masochist taking that, huh? Maybe she’s into that shit. Who knows. But my opinion? Stupid fucking idiot, that one.”

Nash saw red and lunged forward, grabbed Fitch by the neck, and slammed him against the wall. He drew back his fist and swung hard, landing on Fitch’s nose. The direct hit left no question he’d broken it. Fitch wailed in pain, but Nash didn’t let up on his hold.

“You’re here to give facts, not your fucking commentary!”

Fitch’s throat gurgled, and his eyes bulged. “Sullivan.”

Nash tightened his grip, making it impossible for Fitch to breathe.

Sullivan stepped next to Nash, making no move to separate the men. “If I didn’t need you for a case, I’d let Nash squeeze the life out of you, asshole.”

Nash hadn’t eased up the pressure on his neck. He’d have no problem ending this piece of shit. He’d be doing the world a service. Sullivan tapped him on the shoulder.

“I need him, Nash.”

Fuck! This was one death he would’ve enjoyed.

Nash tightened his hold, squeezing one last time before letting him drop to the floor, gasping for a breath. He circled the room with eyes locked on Fitch. He gave him a minute to recover, but Nash wasn’t finished with his interrogation.

“Did the sister know about any of this?”

“Don’t know.” Fitch coughed, resting his hand over his neck. “All I know is Becker said they told her they were sending her brother to rehab.”

“And did they?”

Fitch licked the blood off his lips. “No.”

“Where the hell is he?”

Fitch shrugged. “That I don’t know.”

Nash stalked forward, and Fitch scrambled to the corner holding up his arms. “I swear, Nash. I don’t know.”

Fuck. This just became increasingly dangerous for not only Charley but Nash’s world. If they had eyes on her, they’d know her connection to the Underground. It left too many questions unanswered.

Sullivan led Fitch out, but Nash and Ridge remained. A million different thoughts were rushing through his mind. The main one at the forefront was knowing Charley had been assaulted. Fucking strangled.

He looked around the room and noticed Ridge staring at him intently.

“Thoughts?” Nash arched his brow.

“Not sure you’re going to like what I’ve got to say, Nash.”

Probably not.

“Say it anyway.”

Ridge grasped the back of his neck. “Clearly, she was injured. Enough to be covering her neck for a while. She didn’t need a police escort to go to the hospital. She could do that on her own. Why didn’t she? Unless…”

Nash exhaled a breath, grasping his waist. “She knows he’s an informant, and she’s protecting him.”

Ridge gave a curt nod.

Nash dragged his hand over his mouth. If that was the case, there was a new level of concern, and it wasn’t for Charley. But for the Underground.

“Do you think she knows?” Ridge asked.

Nash had no response.