One more kiss and then I force myself to leave. He stays in the same spot as I walk out of his apartment, closing the door behind me. In the elevator, I lean against the wall, closing my eyes. I think I’m falling for Henri Gastov.
* * *
Henri
Dove leaves and it takes everything in my power not to grab her and tell her she’s never going back to that hellhole. My fingers tingle with the need to bring pain down on the man who hurt her. Her fucking father. Maurice’s report stares back at me on my phone, and I open it. I knew I wouldn’t be able to read it in front of her without showing my emotions, and I didn’t want to scare her.
Now? Now I want to know all about the man I’m going to murder.
Name: David Potts
Age: 42
Current Occupation: Janitor
Former Occupation:
The list is so fucking long that I have to scroll several times to get to the next line.
Spouse(s) and long-term partner(s): Terri Lee(d), Katie Rosio(d), Sammie Josephs(d).
“I’m seeing a fucking trend,” I mutter as I go to the couch, sitting in the same spot where I had Dove spread out before me moments ago.
The next few pages are of his encounters with the law. DUIs, domestic abuse, attempted robbery, trespassing, stalking, forged checks, falsified identity. The domestic abuse part has me seeing red because I’ve seen his handiwork up close and personal. That’s perfectly fine, because he’s going to see the same treatment, tenfold.
His financial reports are next, which makes me laugh. He’s a loser who can barely keep a job. He’s up to his neck in debt. Hell, he doesn’t even pay the rent for his apartment. No, every check is sent from Dove’s account. He likes to frequent Neverland and his next favorite establishment is Casino Di Bello. My hand closes into a fist as I see how many times he visits the casino in a month. In fact, he was there yesterday. And lost everything. Is that why he beat the shit out of Dove? Because he lost a couple grand and was pissed about it?
It figures Luca would let a lowlife like David Potts back in the casino. That’s how he makes his money. Smart players know the house always wins, and that it’s wise to move around. Then there are people like Potts, who hope they will win a life-changing amount and come back day after day until the house takes back everything and then some. The report says that he usually arrives around four. I frown. Dove said she needed to be home by four to get her siblings. While she’s taking care of them, her father will shit away their money. Again.
I have to get Dove out of that hellhole. How do I convince her that this is a safe place to come when I know it’s not? Luca will take one look at her and see the same thing I did. And he won’t stop until he’s broken her. My gaze goes the wall where Grandfather’s muskets hang. There was more to the story than I told Dove. Things I’ve spent years trying to forget. My eyes close. Things I’ve spent years trying to deny. Even thinking about it now is dangerous. The old feelings are there, lurking beneath the surface. The self-loathing and bitterness of who I was forced to become. But there’s also a part of me that misses who I used to be. Who wants nothing more than to—
Cursing, I jump to my feet. I’m going to take a fucking shower and then I’m going to figure out what to do about Dove. I’ve waited years to find someone like her. Now that I have, I’m going to do everything in my power to make her mine.
6
Henri
After looking into David Potts, one thing is clear. My cousin is setting him up for something, and I have an inkling what it is. My fist clenches as I get out of my car, making my way into a place I try to avoid as much as possible. Men look my way as I pass, some surprised to see me. Others, not so much. No one dares to say anything, though. I might not come here often, but I’m still high ranking. The spare to the heir, if you will.
My gaze drifts upward to the second floor. The lights are off in the office. Good. I don’t want to see that prick if I can avoid it. Not until I know for sure what he’s up to. At the elevator, I jab my finger on the down button. Music from the 90s plays overhead, making me wonder when I became old. The doors open before I can ponder this too much and I make my way into the darkness.
It's odd, really. Maurice hated being in the dark when we were kids. Now he thrives in it, a mad scientist in every sense of the word. He’s in his lab, which I only know because of the loud music playing overhead.
“Phantom of the Opera?” I ask as I stroll in. “Isn’t that kind of cliché?”
Maurice’s face pales when I enter his lab. He turns his back on me, shaking his bald head.
“You aren’t supposed to be in here.”
“I need something from you.”
I step around piles of junk until I’m on the opposite side of his workbench. He keeps his gaze averted, focused on the tiny creation in his hand.
“Mo, this is important.”
He scoffs at that. “It’s always important, Ri. My answer is still no.”
“It’s about the woman I had you look into. She’s in danger.”