Page 102 of Red Marked

I can see why they chose this male. I’m sure his dragon is just as massive. He would have pulverized Halleron and his vehicle. And then, for such a big male, he’s rather weak-minded and would have been easy to manipulate.

“It’s in the study,” he says. “Back there.” He gestures with his chin.

“After you,” Flint tells him.

I follow them as far as the study door. It’s a small room with a desk and a wall of shelves, and he goes straight to the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet and pulls out a folder with his good hand, wincing as he does.

He opens it one-handed, pages through with his thumb, and stops. He turns it around and slides it across the desk.

Flint reads it. He runs his finger down to a single line and holds it there. Then he folds the page in half twice and puts it in his back pocket.

“Now go.” Tank’s voice cracks. “Please. Take it and go and don’t ever come back here.”

“If you say one word to anyone about us being here,” Flint says, “I’ll be back. And next time I won’t stop at fingers. That⁠—”

“Are you crazy?” Tank half-yells. “Why would I tell anyone? I won’t.” Tank shakes his head fast. “My life is on the line too. If those people find out I talked…” He shakes his head again. “My mate will be in danger, and our unborn child. No…”

“The male in the suit,” I say from the doorway. “The one who gave you that envelope in the parking lot. Was he an older male with⁠—”

“No.” He looks at me for the first time since the punch. “He was a younger shifter male. Good-looking. An arrogant piece of shit with a big gold watch.”

That hardly narrows it down. Besides, it was five years ago; he may no longer have the watch. There have to be plenty of males with gold watches who fit that description.

“Was there anything distinctive you remember about him?” I ask.

“Like what?”

“A scar? A tattoo? Anything?”

“No…nothing. Just the watch.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“Don’t come back…please.”

“Hopefully we won’t have to,” Flint tells him.

We let ourselves out.

32

Flint

We get into the vehicle, and I drive down the road.

“I’m sorry.” I glance at Star.

Star turns from the window. “For what?” She frowns.

“Back there. I went further than I meant to.” There’s a smear of Tank’s blood drying across my knuckles. I wipe it on my dark pants. “You didn’t need to see that.”

Her eyes glint with humor. “I’m not new to violence. You did what you had to do. I think you went easy on him. I might have broken more than one finger the first time around.”

I let out a short laugh. “Maybe you’re right.”

“He ultimately chose to kill someone. Then he took the money. That says something about the kind of male he is. I’m glad you got him to talk,” she says.

“He was seriously starting to piss me off. I agree, in the end, he killed someone for money. Maybe he’s lost some sleep over it, but…I needed to hear him say it. It sounded like he had convinced himself that it was an accident. That the money just arrived in his account for nothing.”