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Remington (The Theriot Family 1)

Page 38

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I had to keep everything in balance with X, with my family’s enemies, with our allies, and that took so much effort I didn’t see how I could give Henri the care he deserved. And yet, I couldn’t imagine letting him go. I climbed into bed with Henri, pulled him closer to me, and he sighed softly as I pressed my lips to the back of his neck and drew in his scent. I stayed wrapped around him as I drifted to sleep.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the buzzing of my phone woke me. I turned over to get it from the nightstand, hoping I wouldn’t disturb Henri. It was Lance. “This better be a fucking emergency.”

“I’ve got a lead. I want to share what I found.”

“You can share your shit in the morning. I’m sleeping.”

“It is morning,” Lance insisted. “It’s like four a.m.”

“You can talk to me when I’m ready to get out of bed.”

“But I’m on your porch right now.”

“No, you’re fucking not.” It was all I could do to keep my voice low. I wanted to shout at him.

“The streetlight is shining just right for me to see into your little library. Let me see if I can tell what you were reading.”

“Don’t move.” I hung up on him, slipped from the bed, pulled on a pair of sleep pants, and made my way downstairs. I saw him peering in the window. He had the nerve to wave with a big smile on his face. I wanted to punch him, but that was a common reaction for me around Lance.

I opened the door, and he just stood there with Tony on his shoulder. He really did take that damn monkey everywhere. “Why the hell did you come over here in the middle of the night?”

“Technically, it’s not the middle of the night, though I guess that depends on when you think the night starts and when it ends, but—”

I grabbed him by the front of the shirt. Tony scolded me loudly as I yanked the two of them into the house and closed the door. “It’s got to take serious work for you to be this fucking annoying.”

He shook his head. “No. It comes naturally.”

“Jesus, I need a drink.”

“Sounds good. Pour something for me too.”

I reached into the cabinet for a bottle of bourbon I kept for special occasions. This time, I was using it to prevent a special occasion—the death of my brother. “I’m not giving you anything until you tell me why the hell you thought this information was worth waking me up.”

“You hardly ever sleep anyway. Your insomnia has been terrible lately.”

“Which makes you waking me up that much worse.”

“You will find this interesting.”

I tossed back most of the bourbon I’d poured and took a slow breath.

“Oooh. That’s the good stuff.” Lance opened a cabinet and got himself a glass, but I pushed the bottle out of the way as he reached for it. “No way in hell am I sharing this with you. Grab a beer from the fridge if you’re thirsty.”

He huffed, ignoring me as he opened my liquor cabinet and pulled out a bourbon that was quite spectacular but not as fine as what I was drinking. He poured himself a glass, glared at me, and downed it in one go.

He grinned as he wiped his mouth. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Unless you came here hoping to die, you better tell me what you have to say, then get the fuck out.”

“Charles Landry was vocally opposed to the family getting in with these gunrunners. Likely that’s why he was shot the other night. Word on the street is that Clark is in debt to the weapon’s dealers and that’s why he has to move their product for them.”

“That’s very significant news, but there was no reason it couldn’t have waited until a decent hour. You’re telling me this now because…”

Lance rolled his eyes. “What does it take to impress you? I thought you’d be intrigued.”

“I am, though I could give the information better consideration if I’d had a few more hours of sleep.” As annoying as he was, his enthusiasm was somewhat endearing. More so when it wasn’t four in the morning. “It is very good information. We need to figure out exactly who Clark owes and why.”

“Agreed.”

“What do we know about Charles? Do you think Clark set him up?”

“No, I think the dumbass confronted the gunrunner and said they weren’t going to do the work.”

“The Landrys really don’t have a lick of sense, do they?”

Lance laughed. “Hell no, and that’s why we’re going to crush them.”

18

Henri

I woke to the feeling of someone touching my leg, then a finger poked my calf. At first, I thought I was asleep on the couch in my cousin’s apartment, but I quickly realized the mattress and covers were much too soft. I was at Remington’s house, but why was he poking my leg?



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