feeling spread through him at the look he was giving him. Swallowing, Reid finally looked back at Number One. “You don’t know what this town’s been through the last few years. You can’t begin to understand what we’ve been fighting. There’s a dark underbelly, and my shop? I don’t pocket a penny more than I need. I spend every bit of everything I got to fight that underbelly.”
What did he mean?
Thames stared hard at Reid, confused.
Those words reminded him of Charlotte and what she said to him the night he’d found Locke’s texts.
There is a poison in this town you’re not privy to, Conor.
There it was again, something was not adding up, but Thames could almost taste it now. He was so close.
“I took your gold, Conor, because I needed money,” Reid explained then, like this was the only opportunity he had. “That part was my deception. I was greedy and desperate to get the shop going. I’m sorry for burning your old man’s place down. My dad was bloodthirsty and pissed about Billy and…at the time we were still at odds with you, with Locke. Until we found a common goal…”
“What the fuck is this?” said Number One, chuckling. “Why the fuck are we talking about this?”
“Because I’m not telling you where my father is,” Reid declared just then, sweeping his eyes back to him. “And I’m letting my cousin know that right here, right now, we aren’t enemies. It’s important my father hides, and you?” He smiled coldly as he stared at the man, eyes bright now. “You with your ugly fucking suit, strolling around the place like you own it. You, who doesn’t even know the truth about the crew you’re in. You, you’re not Number One.”
The door of the bar opened, and a bloody, suited figure stepped in. Thames stiffened as he took in the gory state of Locke. His suit was soaked in blood, his hands were covered in it, his face was pale and sickly. He stopped, standing purposely in front of…
Charlotte.
Thames’ heart halted in his chest. He stood up abruptly, panicked.
Reid glanced at Locke as he stopped beside him and smiled. “Your timing is impeccable, Locke.”
Locke surveyed the room and everyone in it.
“Who the fuck is this guy?” Holden growled.
“Leave the bar, Charlotte,” Thames gritted out, stuck because he couldn’t turn his back on Holden and because the other two men were moving again, the guns they’d hidden now drawn.
Charlotte’s eyes were wide. She hadn’t anticipated walking into this. She stood still, too stunned to move.
“No, she stays,” Holden said with a chirpy smirk. “You come in, you’re not gonna just walk out.”
Thames gnashed his teeth, fighting the tremors in his body.
Locke only blinked in Holden’s direction before looking at the suited man in front of him. He looked him over head to toe, and the man stared back, brows coming together slowly.
“What the fuck are you supposed to be?” Locke questioned, sounding almost insulted.
“I’m Number One,” the man retorted. “You looking for a death wish or something?”
Locke glanced around the room again, looking annoyed now. “I should have been more mindful of the cracks in this crew. It’s always something. It’s never straightforward. It’s never easy with you shits.”
The suited man took a step closer to him, seething, “If I were you, I’d be very mindful of the precarious situation you’ve found yourself in.”
“Precarious,” Locke repeated, a cool smile forming his lips. “That’s cute.”
“Fuck back off –”
“You’re prancing about in a fucking suit, at least have it tailored.”
“What the fuck –”
“Buying it in a local mall is a serious insult to me –”
“Who the fuck do you think you are –”
Locke raised his hand, aimed the gun at the man’s head and pulled the trigger.
And just like that, everything turned messy.
The body fell to the ground. The shock settled in for a heartbeat… and then everyone reacted.
Jem pulled a shotgun from under the bar and blasted it at the man raising his gun at Locke. He cocked it again just as Holden leaped over the bar and grabbed the head of the shotgun; Jem fired it in the struggle, and the bullets ripped through the air, leaving holes in the ceiling. Thames lunged at Holden, swinging his arm around his neck and hauling him back to the ground. Holden swung his hand around, blade slashing in the air.
“Jem,” Thames gritted out, fighting for the knife. “Make sure Charlotte’s okay.”
But Locke made sure of it, standing in front of her and at the