“I hate my brother, Silas. Hell,youhate my brother. Killing him is only a means to an end.” He kissed my forehead. “I wasalwaysgoing to have to kill him, baby.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Ididhate Ezra, though most of the hatred I possessed stemmed solely from the loyalty I felt for Daddy. Anybody who harbored such aggression and animosity toward him wouldalwaysbe my enemy.
Daddy’s contempt was my contempt and whatever side he stood on was where I wanted to be.
I still had questions though—ones Daddy didn’t bother to answer when the truth revealed itself like a beacon of light, shining so bright and so bold across my computer screen, there wasn’t any room for doubt or speculation.
Once I’d made the Bellevue connection, everything else fell into place. I was good at finding people,the best,but it was always easiest when I had a suspect, and the second I spoke Ezra’s name into existence, I knew I’d find my answers.
And I did.
Mostly.
Ezra buried his identity beneath a dozen different aliases. It wasn’t a plan geniuses were made of, but it granted him enough time and enough anonymity to do what he set out to do.
Almost.
Daddy made a noise, and he slipped his hands in my hair, rubbing my skull. “I should’ve suspected it was him.”
Why?
It was the question he hadn’t answered—the mystery that remained.
Why would Ezra want to kill Mr. Thomas?
It didn’t make any sense—at least not to me.
I loved computers so much because they presented facts. There was never any room for controversy or misinterpretation.
Ezra’s was ghost.Fact.
Ezra disappeared and cut contact with his mother the same day Hugh Laughton’s accident made local news.Fact.
The internet traffic used to make the threat led straight back to Ezra.Fact.
That last one wasn’t as simple as the first two, and I had four men staring over at me as I spent a half hour performing a Deep Packet Inspection in an effort to detect Ezra’s private network. He didn’t bother trying to obscure it, and by the time I was done, there was nothing left to decipher.
Fact by fact, I used my skills to put the pieces together until only one remained.
Motive.
The truth of Daddy’s rivalry with Ezra, and how it linked to Mr. Thomas, was a piece I hadn’t found, and I suspected it was because Daddy wouldn’t show it to me.
“I’m confused.” I traced his nipple with my finger. “Why would you suspect Ezra?”
Daddy's sigh was heavy. “It’s a long story, Kitten.”
“I’ve got time.” I propped my chin on his chest. “It wasn’t very nice of you to go whisper with Ivan and Mr. Thomas while Toby and I sat by ourselves wondering what the hell was going on.”
“I think Ben was trying to spare Toby the nightmares.”
“Well, I don’t have nightmares, Daddy, and I hate not knowing stuff. It makes me itchy.”
He sat up a little, and I shifted on his lap. “Do I need to bandage your arms again?”
“No.” I huffed. “You need to tell me why your brother is such a bastard.”