pulls me to his lap, arms wrapping around my middle. He sets my feet up to the couch and starts rubbing the dirt and tiny stones from my feet before massaging my heel.
Mag sits opposite us in a chair just beside the fireplace. He’s only a few feet from us, and normally, I would say he seems so far away with Johnny in the room, but right now, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like we’re all on the same page, which gives me even more hope.
Mag runs his hands through his hair. “I kept something from you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was relevant, but now that it is, I’m making sure you know everything.”
Johnny stiffens underneath me, and it’s so subtle I doubt Mag even notices.
I silently cheer Magnum on, urging him with my eyes to just tell Johnny. Underneath his hard facade, he’s a decent human. He may do things for the Crew that are decidedly indecent, but that’s not who he truly is. I know it in my heart.
“Earlier, when I went to check on Farmingham’s body, Cole was there.”
Johnny’s hand stills on my feet. “Cole?”
Mag nods. “He didn’t tell me anything I wouldn’t have been able to find out for myself, but he acted as if he was there to help, telling me about the Runts in Farmingham’s pocket.”
“Like you wouldn’t have checked his pockets anyway…”
“Exactly.”
“So, how does this intersect with the guy in the barn?”
Magnum presses his tongue against his teeth. He doesn’t look over at me, but I feel like he wants to. “They both have a dragon tattoo. His was on his neck. I didn’t ask him about it, and he didn’t offer up any information either, but it just seems like too much of a coincidence right now.”
“And the Dragons are, what?” Johnny pinches his nose in thought. “Three? Four hours away?”
Mag nods. “There are different chapters in a few of the surrounding states, but the closest one is about three and a half hours away.”
Johnny shifts on the seat, holding me close to him. “We’ve never had a problem with them before.”
“It’s hard to know what’s going on, but Cole showing up was a red flag. He knew I was going to check out the body, so he beat me to it.”
“Do you think he killed him?”
Matter-of-factly, Mag answers, “I can’t say yes, and I can’t say no. Is he playing the Gregory angle? Is it really the Dragons? Cole knows I’m not stupid. Part of me believes he really was trying to help, even though—”
“He was never smart,” Johnny says, sighing. He takes a deep breath. “You’re aware there’s a kill order out on him.”
I try to relax even though the way Johnny said it is threatening. Accusing.
“Anyone who defects is shot on sight.”
“I know,” Mag says, straightening in the chair. He faces him like a man. He’s not cowering or shying away from the subject. He made a decision, and he’s dealing with the consequences...on his own. He’s wisely keeping Brawler and I out of the story.
“Why didn’t you do it?”
“He’s just...dumb,” Mag says. “He didn’t pose a threat. He wasn’t even armed.”
“And he’s your cousin.”
“And he’s my cousin,” Mag solidifies.
Johnny chews on his lip, and the palpable tension in the room beats its own rhythm. With each ticking second of the clock, it ratchets higher and higher.
For Mag’s part, he doesn’t look disturbed. A lesser man would. He just admitted to his gang leader that he kept vital information secret. He put family above Crew.
What Johnny does with this information will tell us a lot about how his mind works.
“Kyla, can you go upstairs please?”
I don’t even register the words at first. It isn’t until Johnny places my feet softly on the carpet that what he said actually seeps through my brain. I want to balk, but I have no reason to, and I also don’t want to get Johnny in a pissy mood now that he potentially has something on Magnum.
“We’ll sleep in the master bedroom tonight. Why don’t you lie down, so I can talk to Magnum alone?”
Johnny squeezes my hand lightly as I stand, his reassuring hand on the small of my back. I lock gazes with Magnum, but the look I receive back tells me nothing. He’s just empty. Waiting.
I walk toward the beautiful ornately carved banister and glance back. They’re still locked in a staring match. Apprehension crowds me like a stocked subway train with no room to breathe.