Damaged Goods

The pulse of music hit me as we walked through the hall, getting louder as another door opened, revealing the club itself. The lights flashed in a cycle of colors, and the heat level was intense from the bodies smashed together, gyrating on the open dance floor. Tables surrounded it, but most were occupied by empty drinks and coats, the majority of the clubgoers out of their seats. Without stopping, Keir headed straight for an open stairwell to the side, leading us into a loft which had to be the VIP lounge.

The lounge was definitely more their style. Everything was black, silver, and red and immaculately clean. A half-circle couch lined the balcony, but strategically placed mirrors reflected the crowd below. There was a small bar up here, likely stocked with their favorites. A crystal chandelier rested over the table the couch circled around, a solitary seat on the other side. I laughed at the sight, knowing an interrogation set-up when I saw one.

“Come on, Kitten,” Ky said, taking my hand and leading me to the couch, but instead of letting me sit on my own, he settled me on his lap, holding tight when I tried to move. “No.” The order was clear, and I sighed, stopping my struggling. Their constant touching was quickly breaking down my overthinking and awkwardness, and I didn’t want to argue. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t take the time to torture him just a little bit.

“What’s your poison?” Killian asked, and I looked up to see him watching me, the heat in his eyes making me squirm.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” I said, naming one of the few drinks I could stand. He smirked as he walked away. What’s so goddamn funny about that?

“So, why did you leave?” Keir asked, the question blunt, but I didn’t expect any less. I’d been taking bets with myself on how long they’d last before asking me again.

“The Family,” I said simply. If I’m lucky, that’ll cover it without going into the full story.

“Why?” And, as per usual, my luck is nonexistent. I wasn’t ready to relive that day just yet, so I shook my head and looked away, my body tensing enough that Ky noticed, his hand moving across my back in soft circles.

“Boss?” a timid voice called out. Keir stood and gave me a look to remind me this wasn’t over before walking to the side, his lackey speaking eagerly into his ear. His whole demeanor changed, his body tensing for a moment before nodding and turning to the guys.

“Lachs got the delivery,” he said, the other two raising their eyebrows.

“And?” Killian implored, unconcerned with asking for details in front of me. “Is there retribution or something?”

“They killed Timothy,” Keir confirmed with a sigh. Ky’s growl had me shifting to look at him. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were full of anger and malice. Whoever Timothy was, he was important.

“How fucking dare they,” he growled, fingers digging into me painfully as he breathed through his rage. Instinctively, I wrapped my hand around his wrist and squeezed until he let up. He was so distracted he didn’t even seem to register what either of us had done.

“Was there a message?” Kill asked quickly while Keir just paced back and forth, not answering for several beats.

“Not yet, but his brother wants a meeting. Apparently, he’ll be here in five,” he explained. Taking a whiskey from the tray offered by the waiter, he downed the whole thing at once and slammed it back on the tray. To his credit, the man didn’t even flinch, handing out our drinks and walking away to return a few moments later with a refill for Keir.

When the cool glass was pushed into my hands, I took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol burning slightly as I swallowed it down. Thanks to the money these men possessed, it was a smooth top shelf whiskey.

“Should I go?” I finally asked. Normally, it was completely taboo to have someone outside the family witness family business, and even though we’d once shared a relationship, I was new in this stage of their lives. It would be completely understandable and probably expected for them to want some privacy.

“No,” all three said firmly. Ky shifted but still kept me firmly on his lap as they started discussing the few details they had of the death, my heart breaking to find out Timothy was a younger cousin, only sixteen and barely old enough to be involved.

When their names rang out, they all froze, Ky’s hands curling around me possessively and Kill flopping down beside us. The guy walked closer, taking the lone chair while Keir settled on the other side of me. He had the same dirty blond hair as the triplets, but his features were sharper and his eyes a mossy green. As I studied him, I couldn’t help but notice the slight twitch to his left eye, piquing my interest. I was well versed in detecting nonverbal cues, something Eros taught us all early, and he was practically wearing a flashing sign that he was hiding something. All of the usual nuances were there, from the fidgeting to the clenching and unclenching hand and twitching eye. Amatuer.

“Speak,” Keir ordered, and the man took a shuddering breath, but I noticed it seemed to be nerves, not grief.

“His brother?” I whispered as I faced Ky, and he nodded, turning back to the guy in question.

“Now, Victor,” Killian said, the man taking a deep breath but still looking like he was fighting the urge to flee.

“Timothy and I were taking our newest shipment out, the pills for the east side. We’d parked and were waiting on our contact for pickup when a van pulled up. The problem was that it wasn’t our contact, but a group of men in suits and masks. They had Timothy before I could react,” he pushed out, eyes shining with unshed tears that everyone paid the courtesy of not commenting on. Me, I could see the lack of sincerity in it. He was lying, or at least bending the truth. With that lack of compassion, he’d fit right in with Eros.

Glancing at the guys, I tried to see how they were reacting, but their faces were matching masks of stone.

“So they killed Timothy right in front of you... and you escaped, how?” Kyrell asked, his deep voice full of ice as it drifted out from behind me, sending a shudder down my spine.

“He’s dead?” he choked out as his right foot started to twitch nervously, his voice startled and frantic. “What the fuck do you mean?!”

“Keir?” Killian questioned, sounding surprisingly level-headed. It was like they’d shut off their emotions to handle this, which was something I could definitely relate to.

“Separate reports, Joe just confirmed the death,” he shared as he held up his phone, and they turned back to the man they were questioning. I was struck a bit speechless; observing them in action was sending me for a huge loop. Eros had men that handled each aspect of the Family. Sure, bigger events made it back to him, but if you made it to Eros’ desk, that was it for you. And here the triplets were, getting intel right and left from all aspects of their Family. If you asked me, that was just begging for interference and trouble. I hope their men are as loyal as they think. “I just got word of Timothy’s body showing up at the estate.”

“Oh god,” Victor said, the first genuine reaction out of him from what I could tell. His nerves ramped up again, the grief almost an afterthought now as his jaw clenched and unclenched, though he tried to hide it. Something’s not right.

“He’s nervous, and clearly lying.” I whispered to Keir, who turned to me, an eyebrow raised in question. I crawled out of Ky’s lap, his hands slipping away to let me go as I scooted over and leaned in close. “He’s lying about something. Watch his left eye, jaw, and right foot.”