My vision refocuses on my surroundings, the quiet barroom of Midnight puzzling back together.
Maddox stands next to me, his imposing, brutal stature shadowing me. He’s only a few inches taller than my six-foot-three frame, but he’s definitely bulkier than my toned, lean-muscled body.
The rest of our speakeasy is empty right now, the lights a bit too bright. The two employees on shift are doing inventory prior to opening tonight, but they’re in the back, and The Sanctum’s fighter and I are alone.
He doesn’t press for a response to his statement.
I don’t feel the need to give him one.
He and I are a little different from the others. I’m quiet because it’s just the way I am. I prefer to observe. Listen. Maddox uses the quietness as a shield. I don’t blame him. Four of us lead our syndicate, yet I think I may be the only one who truly knows what happened in his life.
At least the bare bones of it, not his version of events. I’m not sure he ever shared that with anyone. Maybe Vincent, since they’ve always been brotherly close. The story would probably be too emotional for me, anyway.
On the other side, Vincent Sinclair and Finnigan Hennessey are more than comfortable talking. A lot. Too much, sometimes. Though Vincent, our resident Serpent, has such a talent with words, he can make a mute man talk. He doesn’t need the pain I like to inflict to pull information out of people. But I’ve seen him enjoy it on several occasions, regardless.
Finnigan used to be our very own careless playboy. It all stopped with Evelyn Shaw. Little Maya too. He still talks and jokes too much, but he no longer uses that humor as armor. He was so transparent in his suffering, I’m surprised none of the others noticed just how much he hurt all alone, with nothing but one-night stands warming his bed.
Vincent, though, hid his longing very well over the years. All directed at one specific woman—Morrigan O’Rourke. Now she shares his last name. He’s loved her for so many years, kept her there in his heart until the time finally came and he got her back. I have to admire her, because she hasn’t changed him. Never demanded he tone down his ruthlessness. I appreciate that.
Though, I have trouble wrapping my head around this love that has taken over them. Finnigan and Evelyn too. Such a strange phenomenon, devoid of logic or reason.
“Things have been quiet.” Maddox speaks again.
Have they?
Maybe I was wrong. He sounds like he wants to press without prying.
“Things are rarely quiet,” I say.
“There hasn’t been any stirring. Anything . . . revealed.”
I turn to him, and he gives it one more second before he faces me too.
“None,” I say.
He’s fishing, and I know exactly what for.
He sighs, the sound too soft to come from exasperation. “Are you worried?”
“She has no proof. Only her word against ours. We both know which weighs heavier.”
I catch him nod as I turn my attention back to the crystal glass I’m slowly swirling on the bar. He’s slightly unsure of my words.
“Any leads?” Maddox asks.
I shake my head. I’ve kept them updated since I first told them abouther,one month after it happened. I waited, thinking I would find her by then. Little did I know.
“Maybe she was a tourist, and she left shortly after.”
Clutching the glass, I empty the contents down my throat before rising.
“Maybe.”
“Carter.”
I turn at the greeting. One of our security guys walks in from the short entrance corridor.
“James is coming through the back,” he says.
