Page 80 of Shrapnel

Jackson froze, his eyes turning hard. “What?”

Jamie stopped, turning his head to look back over his shoulder at Jackson. “Hate isn’t the right term, is it? You don’t trust them.” Jamie turned. Jackson’s eyes were downright murderous. Jamie thought he might hit him.

He kind of hoped he would.

“C’mon Jackie Boy, you didn’t think you slept with boys because you liked them, did you?” he pinched Jackson’s cheek, smoothing the spot with his thumb before turning and continuing down the hall.

Jamie was walking forward but all his attention was behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck raised, every muscle in his body alert and waiting for Jackson to grab him.

The big man exhaled sharply then followed.

“Anyway, the douchebag married the princess. Robbed a few banks, had a bouncing bundle of sass, and then died. Noah’s past has huge gaps, mostly his time with Kurt and Willow, but other than that he bounced schools. Got arrested a few times. Cries for attention that Luther made go away. And then…nothing.”

Jackson refused to look at him, but he was listening.

“Did you know Luther?”

He grunted. “Met him a few times. Didn’t like him.”

Jamie laughed. “You don’t like anyone.”

Ignoring him, Jackson went on. “He didn’t trust anyone. Lied constantly. Even to himself.”

“Do you remember his inner circle?”

“Nah. He had a habit of keeping minions around from all over, not just Mesa members.”

Jamie mulled that over. It fit Luther’s personality. He wouldn’t trust his people, so he would surround himself with those loyal to him and only him.

They found Noah and Elijah in their war room. The place was a mess, and Noah seemed to be completely engrossed in whatever file he was looking into.

Jamie caught Elijah’s eye and waved him over. “Jackson said that Luther picked up strays. Those who were loyal only to him.” He started instead of a greeting.

Elijah nodded. “Looking into Hughes or any of the other victims might be pointless.”

“Maybe,” Jamie acquiesced. “We need to check out that church. A couple of my informants say that it’s a big hotspot for the homeless.”

“Might be where our dead homeless guys got the knife?”

Jamie liked the look on Elijah’s face. The hopelessness was gone, replaced by a fighting instinct. The desire to get his hands dirty.

“Find out everything you can about the church—staff, owners, everything. But don’t go alone. No more solo excursions.”

Jamie lifted his hands. “I may be slow, but almost getting disemboweled once was enough for me.”

Elijah was about to answer when his phone rang. He glanced up at Jamie before answering, stepping out of the room.

Noah and Jackson were talking by the desk stacked high with papers. Jackson’s arms were crossed over his thick chest, biceps obscenely large and pronounced against the black t-shirt. It was unusual for him to wear a short sleeve shirt, but today he was. The tattoo on his forearm was distinct. Colored in dark hues. The various blades on his skin stuck out against the mossy green and faded reds. Somehow, they were more menacing that the actual machete on his hip.

Noah looked tiny next to him. But it was less his size and more the defeated slump of his shoulders. A boy dressing up like a man, thinking it makes him look cool. Until he realizes that there are responsibilities that come with it.

Unfortunately for Noah, it wasn’t as easy as taking off a suit and tie.

Or maybe it was. Jamie cocked his head and watched the two from his new perspective.

Elijah eased his car to the curb, leaning over the wheel to double-check the cross streets. Removing the keys, he unfolded his body and locked the car. He hadn’t been to the Andrews’ crime scene, but he recognized the area from the photos. Catching sight of Owen, he jogged across the street to him.

Owen looked concerned. He was wearing his usual baggy hoodie and skinny jeans. His hair was looking a little long, the bleached strands tickling the bridge of his nose as he chewed his nails.