I remember thinking Dodge was a snake. A slimy, manipulative piece of shit, but I can’t pinpoint specific references, only the repeated farewells Luther often spoke.
Keep digging for me, Dodge.
Don’t let me down, Dodge.
“What’s going on?” Luca comes up behind me, hovering close. “Did they see you?”
I shake my head, still trying to tear pieces of information from a brain that refuses to release them. I need proof. It took too long for me to be believed about Robert.
“Pen?” Luca grabs my shoulders and turns me to face him. “Talk to me.”
I try to find answers in his eyes. Still, nothing comes. There are only repeated farewells and snide compliments.
You’re invaluable, Dodge.
Luther rarely gave out compliments. Not to his sons, or his right-hand men. It was only to those he manipulated to further his goals. Only to pawns caught in his web.
And now one of those conniving puppets is in the same room as my parents. Within threatening distance of those I love.
“I recognize a name from someone in there.” I watch Luca’s expression, searching for support. “A name of someone who previously conspired against Cole.”
Luca stands taller, shooting a glance out the peephole before returning his attention to me.
He transforms before my eyes. From calm and in control to a strung-tight, laser-focused soldier in a heartbeat.
“Tell me the name,” he demands.
29
Luca
“Dodge,” she whispers. “The person’s nickname is Dodge.”
I hold myself in check, not reacting as my stomach bottoms. But she notices the freefall, her attention narrowing in concern.
“This is bad, isn’t it?” she asks in a rush. “Do you think he’s here for me? Or my parents? Could he be working with Robert?”
“No. It’s okay.” I rub her arms and paste on a fucking painful smile. “I’ve had my suspicions, that’s all. And I know how close he is to Torian.”
How unbelievably, fucking close.
Breaths escape her lips in panted panic. “What about my parents?”
“They’ll be fine. Nobody is stupid enough to risk anything tonight. But I need you to do something for me, okay?” I guide her away from the door, my hand on the low of her back as I lead her to the storeroom. “Wait in here for a while. Just until I handle this.”
She plants her feet, her frantic gaze searching my face. “Handle it? What does that mean?” She leans closer, whispering, “Are you going to kill someone? Please, Luca, I want to get my parents out of—”
“They’re fine.” I open the storeroom, flick on the light, and place pressure on her back to encourage her inside. “I’m only asking for ten minutes. Don’t leave this room.”
I don’t wait for a protest. I shut her inside, the sight of her fear-filled expression haunting me as I stalk for the dining room, past the swinging doors, and into the crowd of guests.
I pass Torian’s relatives, friends, and trusted informants as my fury builds. I stalk by women whose husbands have worked with the crime family for years while a tick forms under my right eye. Then I stop before Dodge and look that motherfucker in the eye, knowing on instinct Penny is right about him. Knowing that whoever referenced his nickname tonight is one of the few old-school elders who stood by Luther’s side from the beginning of his crime-riddled reign, because they’re the only people who have ever called my brother by that name.
The sight of him infuriates me. Fucking sickens me.
I ignore the older man flanking his side, and grab the front of Benji’s shirt, bringing an abrupt halt to their conversation.
“Outside,” I snarl. “Now.”
His eyes flare wide. A flash of fear and guilt hits him before quickly being smothered under anger. “What the—”
I yank his shirt, making him stumble, then release him to storm for the kitchen, not stopping until after I’ve shoved open the back door and jumped down the stairs to the loose asphalt.
He’s slow to follow, descending to ground level with stiff hesitance. “Luca, whatever it is—”
“Save it.” I launch my fist at his face, my knuckles colliding with bone.
He jolts backward, stumbling, but I hold him on his feet with an unyielding grip around his throat. “You fucking snitch.” I keep my voice low, too fucking aware of the watchful eyes lurking in the shadows. I shove him, over and over until he’s up against the brick wall. “You were working with Luther.”
He doesn’t fight me. Doesn’t even protest my grip as his face turns red. All he does is hold my gaze, wordlessly spewing guilt in my direction.