Damaged (Boys of Winter #2) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,148

storms toward Harlen Beckett, who gets to his feet just in time to block a punch from Michael. “You fucking bastard. I could kill you for this. I had nothing to do with it. My brother is lying in the fucking morgue as we speak.”

Harlen clenches his jaw, his hands balling into fists, and for an old guy, I don’t doubt that he could throw down just as well as his son, but Grayson steps in before I get the chance to find out. He shoves his hands against each of their chests, giving a violent push, sending his father sprawling back into the couch and proving that he’s had way too much to drink, all of them have, but maybe that’s a good thing. Their tongues are getting a little loose.

Michael shakes it off and walks around the back of the couch, glaring back at Grayson and his father while trying to calm himself. “I stand by what I said. Scardoni is all over this. The bastard has been a no-show for a fucking week. His son too. They’ve been planning this and now they’re running scared. You know they planned that fucking shooting on the King property.”

My brow raises as the room falls silent. “You knew about that and didn’t come forward?” I question, stepping toward him and letting him see just how dangerous I can be, especially now that I’m fucking pissed. “You know there’s a special place in hell for people like you? How do I know that you weren’t working with them?”

Harding’s jaw clenches, clearly seeing just how badly he fucked up and knowing all too well that he just put himself at the top of my suspect list. After all, Preston and Jacob weren’t working alone. There’s still a woman involved and who knows how many others.

“I had nothing to do with it,” he spits, his eyes narrowing on me until Tobias King pushes him back a step and silently pulls him back in line, remembering who the fuck he’s speaking to right now.

“Preston had nothing to do with it,” Carver says from the other side of the room, his voice low and deadly, daring Harding to come at him as he gets the conversation back on track.

Matthew Montgomery scoffs, drinking his rum right from my father’s expensive bottle. “How the hell do you know? You’re just a kid. Fuck off out of here and let the real adults discuss this.”

The corner of Carver’s mouth twitches and Matthew flinches, slinking back into the couch and taking another swig of rum. “You want to know how I know Preston had nothing to do with it?” he asks, both King and Grayson smirking with the knowledge. “That fucker got caught. His son slipped up and got caught red-handed putting a hit on Elodie, so after I snapped Jacob’s neck, I took Preston and put him in my fucking cellar last week. I’m surprised you fuckers haven’t heard his screams. It’s been quite soothing.”

Mr. Danforth turns to Cruz. “Is that true?” he demands, ballsy enough to question Carver’s statement in front of him.

Cruz nods. “Yes. Like Harding said, they were behind the attack in the woods, and Preston admitted to having part in another attempt on Elodie’s life. Though, that being said, we know there’s still someone else involved, perhaps a few someone’s.”

“How do you know that?” his father prompts.

Cruz just shakes his head and makes a show of stepping in beside me, away from his father, which at any other time would seem insignificant, but during a meeting like this, despite how informal it is, it speaks volumes. “If you want those details, you can arrange to meet with Elodie in private. We don’t trust half the men in this room.”

Mr. Danforth narrows his eyes at his son, his jaw clenched and the anger radiating off him. “You better know what the fuck you’re doing, son,” he says, though while his words might be harmless, the venom in his eyes says something entirely different.

Cruz steps forward, putting himself slightly in front of me but not blocking me, acting as a protector. “I stand with Elodie,” he announces, not afraid of his father in the least.

Tobias stands, holding up his hands to diffuse the situation before it becomes something more. After all, there are much more important things to discuss other than Cruz’s affection for me. “Either way,” he says, looking at Carver, “you should have brought your accusations against Preston to the table. If you suspected