Now, Yates is no longer capable of screaming, not that his cries had any bearing. These impenetrable vaulted walls hold ghastly secrets.
Blood drips from the tip of the steel hammer fisted in my hand. The broken skin at the wee lad’s knees and legs reveals fractured bone from where the hammer has mauled him. The MacKenzie clan ain’t just henchmen. Our da enlightened us on a few things, from current to historical forms of defeating an opponent. Brody and I read how English prisoners were tortured in Edinburgh as authorized by the Stuart monarchy. It had never been useful information, but I never had a taste for vengeance either. It’s gone down very sweetly as of tonight.
I nudge Yates’ feeble, sweat-stained chin with the hammer. “So, ye planned to use me to kill yer friends, Douglas? I was yer last step before leaving the country with the money ye stole from Phelps? I noticed that the scheming the two of ye had done through Infinity Corp stalled since the lastnuggetwho ye blackmailed died.”
A couple of beats pass before his head shifts side to side. In a curdled voice, he denies my assumption.
“So, what?” I snarl. “Was I to die the same way? In some seemingly freak accident, aye? Was I the last part of the puzzle? Ye use me to kill Phelps then run off into the sunset? Ye’re not just a weebawbag. Nae, ye’re a coward!”
In a huff of exhaustion, Yates’ eyelids fall.
“Nae?” I tap him with the flat of the hammer. “Wakey, wakey, mate.”
I’m placing my thumb against the faint pulse at his neck when I hear footsteps. Brody appears at the farthest side of the room. “Damn, thoughtye were Cam,” I say.
“Wit, yer mate die? Mam won’t appreciate that.”
“Nae, not deid. Aye, I remember the skelping she gave Da the last time someone almost croaked under this roof.”
Pawing at his beard, Brody looks over my work, nodding slowly. “Knew ye had it in ya. Now, did ye tell Chevelle the shootout was all her fault?”
“Nae!” I wag the hammer in his face. “Try me. Ye will find yerself on afeckin’slab next to thisned.”
I sense my bigbrathairhas more questions. Instead, Brody plucks up a utility knife, “May I?”
“He’s all yers.” I gesture. “Wit’syer plan?”
“I’ll put a smile on yer mates’ face. A nice Glasgow smile.” Brody lifts the edges of Yates’ mouth, creating a gnarly grin. When thebampotgrouses awake, Brody says, “Simmer down, weewean. They call me the surgeon. I’m bloody good at this.”
At Brody’s signal, I grip the top of Yates’ cranium and his chin, holding him steady. Thenugget’seyes widen. The sleep he sought is nowhere to be found. Brody finesses the tip of the blade against the corner of his mouth. My biceps bulge while I hold steady. Blood sprays over my hands. Brody makes quick work with the laceration, arching the knife until he’s left a gaping scar in the shape of a smile. Theeejitbegins coughing on his own blood. I grab Yates’ shoulder and shove him over until he’s on his side.
“Easy does it,” I sneer, giving his back a few hard slaps.
Brody tosses the knife onto the cart of doom and gloom. “Witd’ye make of Mam’s story?”
I sigh. “‘Bout how Chevelle’s da’s business associate offed ‘em?”
“Nae, Leith. Why?Whydid her father’s so-called good friend kill him and his wife? Was her da no better than us? Is that why she didna wantye in the family business?”
I gesture toward the snivelingbawbag, who’s curled into a ball. He might as well be sucking hisfeckin’thumb. “Once thisarsehole’sticker caves in, I’ll be rectifying that, too.”
“But Da is fixing the relationship with the Romans.”
“So, what! I’ve hurt . . .” I glance down. There’s a level of vulnerability when mentioning my wife to anyone. I run a serrated blade across Yates’ side, creating a series of tiny nicks. “I’ve hurt her so much. I’llfeckin’die trying to figure it out.”
Brody slams a hand on the tray. “But ye said Chevelle isn’t interested in the truth.”
“Too bad. We never had a lie between us before I met thisned,” I growl, pricking Yates again. “This is my time to purge, Brody. Ye never gave afeckabout Chevelle’s feelings before. Dinna start now. My wife just met a new me a couple of hours ago. One she’ll learn to love.”
Chapter 51
Chevelle
Despite my struggle to flee,I’d slept in Leith’s arms. Still fatigued, I roused awake thirty minutes ago. I’ve showered and wear Leith’s old PE sweats and a shirt. I head along the upstairs corridor to check on Mia and her cousins. The double doors to Leith’s parents’ room are open. Nan’s nestled in the center of the bed, propped up by a throng of pillows. A forlorn cloud masks her face as she stares aimlessly at the television.
When she makes eye contact with me at the doorway, the morning’s foolish events play through my mind. I wave a tentative hand. “Hey, Nan, can I talk to you for a second?”
Clearly stressed about Big Brody, the edges of her mouth fray in a tiny smile. “Get in. The sheets are clean, promise. I can’t attest to how they’ll be after Big Brody returns from his negotiating.”