Page 4 of Brutal
The second man moves. And everything that happens next goes too quickly to stop.
Too quickly to fix.
The file shifts under my coat as I go down.
The last thing I understand is that whatever was supposed to happen here tonight with these three men…
I wasn’t part of it.
And that’s why I’m not walking away.
1
SAMSON
Fifteen years later…
The club smells like old money, perfume, and quiet corruption.
Yeah, corruption has a smell, kind of like dirt that’s laced with blood and a touch of manure. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one who can smell it. My old man sure can’t.
I pause just inside the private entrance and let my eyes adjust to the low light. The room is ridiculously lavish—velvet booths along the walls, crystal glasses flashing under chandeliers, men in suits leaning too close to each other over thousand-dollar bourbon.
A jazz singer stands near the stage dressed in gold silk, her voice smooth and low. No one is really listening.
People don’t come here for the music.
I step farther inside.
The shift in the room is subtle. It always is. Conversations soften. A few heads turn. A server adjusts the tray in his hand and turns away.
The Vexley name does that.
I button my jacket and scan the room.
My father’s command echoes in my mind.
Handle the Darnell situation tonight.
Preston Darnell isn’t hard to find. He’s at a curved velvet booth toward the back of the club. Two younger men sit with him, looking eager. Of course they are. They think being in Darnell’s orbit will elevate them.
Darnell has a whiskey in his hand and a smile on his face.
He won’t be smiling when I’m finished.
I move through the room, nodding to some acquaintances, raising an eyebrow at others.
People step aside without realizing they’re doing it. Chairs scrape softly. Someone stops laughing mid-sentence when they notice where I’m headed.
One of the men beside Darnell sees me first. The color drains from his face. He murmurs something.
Darnell turns. For half a second his smile stays where it is. Then it tightens.
“Vexley,” he says.
I stop beside the booth. “Darnell.”
The two men at the table go quiet.
