“What the fuck do you want?” He scowled. Little shit was ballsy when he had Mummy at his side to defend him.
“Language!” his mum barked at him and we all chuckled.
That’s right, little bitch. Do as Mummy says.
“They’re here to start trouble, Mum. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what language I use.” He tried to sound hard, but the blush on his cheeks showed him for the pussy he was.
Ma Lockwood turned to look at us and then gestured to where Harper stood.
“I don’t think Harper is here to cause trouble. She couldn’t upset anyone, even if she tried.” She gave Harper a kind smile, which I’m guessing Harper returned. I don’t know, I didn’t look. I was too busy staring Lockwood mark two down and imagining what it’d feel like to smash my fists into his face.
“We don’t want any trouble, Mrs Lockwood,” Harper said with a kindness I knew would be wasted on people like this.
“It’s Karen, dear. You know that,” Mrs Lockwood replied, beckoning Harper into the house.
She stepped forward and we all followed. But I made sure to stay by her side. I wasn’t letting my guard down any time soon. She might have been kind, but I wasn’t. I was there for one thing and one thing only. To show these people that no one fucked with us.
“Thanks, Karen. Is Don around? We need to ask him about a few things.” I let Harper take over. She’d already got us access into the house, so I figured she was best placed to get us an audience with the main man. Use the angel to lure out the devil.
“He’s in his study. I’ll take you through.” Karen went to walk away, but she stopped suddenly and turned to face me. “Do I know you? You look awfully familiar.”
Yeah, like I mixed in the same circles she did.
“I came here a few weeks ago.” I shrugged. Woman obviously had a shit memory.
“Yes, I remember that, but I mean I recognised you from before then too. What’s your last name? Maybe I know your mother.”
I highly doubted that Mrs Lockwood knew my mother. If she did, she wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It wasn’t the type of acquaintance you’d brag about.
“Mathers. My name is Brandon Mathers.”
She frowned as much as her botoxed face would let her and tried to recall the name, but came up empty.
“No. I don’t know anyone by that name.” She laughed to herself. “Maybe it’s my age. You all look a bit familiar.” She grinned down at Harper, then said, “Of course, I know you. I always loved it when you came round here with Brodie. I’d always hoped you and Jensen might hit it off one day.” She winked then swallowed, looking embarrassed at what she’d said.
I gritted my teeth and held back the scathing words I desperately wanted to unleash on her for insinuating anything could ever happen between Harper and him. Harper just held my arm proudly and stated, “I’m with Brandon.”
“Yes, I can see that now.” Karen gave a fake chuckle. I was starting to see how well she fitted in with her husband and sons. They were all as phony as each other. “How are your mum and dad? Give them my love, won’t you? I know how rough it’s been for them lately. Well, for all of you, after Brodie, and …” she cut herself off and started to walk away. Her incessant chatter followed by her clamming up showed she was nervous. Either that, or she’d remembered how disrespectful her family had been to Harper and the Yates’.
We followed, assuming she was taking us to see her husband. Chase tagged along too, despite me eyeballing him. Fucker always did have balls of steel when it came to pissing me off.
When we came to a pair of oak panelled doors, she stopped and asked us to wait outside, then snuck in through the door, no doubt to warn the occupant inside of the firing squad that’d come to pay him a visit. Or were we the suicide squad? I always did relate more to The Joker than any of the other superheroes.
“I thought you had a fight tonight?” Chase piped up. “Did he beat you that fast? Or did you run away again like a little pussy?” He crossed his arms over his puffed-out chest and rocked back on his feet. I balled my fists at my sides as Harper gave me another reassuring squeeze.
“I knocked your brother the fuck out. Didn’t see the point in staying around to watch the clean-up operation.” Chase’s eyes flickered like he was surprised to hear what I’d said. Did he really think I’d left, or that his brother had beaten me? I didn’t have a scratch on me save for the bruising on my knuckles. And to think the Lockwoods were supposed to be smart. Obviously astute observation and powers of deduction weren’t their strong point. “I’m surprised you didn’t come to watch. What’s up with that? Afraid you’d get your ass kicked too?”
Chase flared his nostrils, but he didn’t get to say anything else. The door flung open and Karen walked out looking paler than she had when she went in.
“He said to go right in.” She stood against the door to hold it open for us and we filed into the warm study like lions entering the colosseum. Prowling slowly and gauging our surroundings for any possible threats.
The room was dimly lit by picture lights on the dark wood-panelled walls and a study lamp that sat on the highly polished mahogany desk. The wooden floors creaked as we moved into the centre of the room and stood in front of the roaring open fire. There was a bookcase the height of the whole room running along one wall. Had he read all of those? There must’ve been hundreds of leather-bound books up there. Who had time to read that many books?
The atmosphere was strangely relaxing, with its smoky whiskey smells and the burn of the fire behind us. The soft crackle as the flames danced over the wood. But I wasn’t about to let this lull me into a false sense of security. The devil that sat behind the desk in the high-backed winged chair made sure that I kept my wits about me. If we were the lions, he was the gladiator, and he carried himself with an air of importance, full of cunning and pride for how he thought he was about to play us.
He watched each of us in turn as we took our places side by side, standing on the Chinese rug laid out in front of the fire. His face didn’t give anything away. If poker were an Olympic sport, no one else would compete because what would be the point? This guy had fucking nailed it.
The room was silent as he picked up his tumbler of whiskey and took a swig, then he placed it back carefully on a coaster. He leant back in his chair with his arms outstretched on his desk, tapping his fingers and sizing us up. It was like we were standing in front of a headmaster, if the headmaster was a cold-hearted sadistic liar who only thought about himself and only kept people around him if he thought they could do something for him.
He must’ve got bored tapping his fingers and decided to thread them together and rest them on his paunched stomach.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he said in a low drawl, looking at Harper then the others, but not me. He either didn’t see me as a threat or he was avoiding poking the biggest beast in the room.
“You know damn well why we’ve come here,” I said on a snarl, and he pinned me with a stare that was supposed to unnerve me. It only made me want to goad him further. I didn’t cow down to anyone.
“If I knew what you wanted, I wouldn’t have asked. I don’t play games. I don’t have time. Some of us have a serious business to run.” He stayed still as he spoke, but the tic in his jaw showed he was on edge; more so than he wanted to let on.