Bodyguard by Melanie Shawn

43

Gage

When I went backinto the room with Woodward, I went in alone. It was a tactic. I wanted Woodward to think there was nothing I wasn’t crazy enough to do, and with no one there to hold me back, I was a lot likelier to do it.

That wasn’t the only reason, though. I couldn’t have Savannah in here. With what she’d just learned, I couldn’t trust her to keep her shit together. It was no slight against her. She’d kept her shit together through more high-pressure situations than anyone could reasonably be expected to. But this was too much, even for her.

And I couldn’t walk back in that room with Bear. If Savannah was the only one of us missing, then fucking Woodward would know that something he’d said had affected her too much to go on. And that was a satisfaction I would never give that asshole.

He had hurt my girl enough. He wasn’t going to get another chance.

Woodward's head snapped up as I came through the door, his eyes frantic. "What were you guys talking about? I swear, I can tell you more. I'm not sure what – just tell me what you want to know. We'll work something out, Okay? Okay?"

I had no intention of killing the guy. Not unless he made it unavoidable. I had said that if he helped us, I would take him to his go kit and put him on a plane, and that was exactly what I planned to do. I may have wanted him dead for the way he’d endangered Savannah, but I was a man of my word.

The fact that he thought we were going back on the deal every two seconds was more indicative of his character than mine. Untrustworthy people had a hard time believing that anyone was more trustworthy than they were. They always thought that other people were looking to take advantage of them. And, with the kind of characters they usually dealt with, that probably wasn't a bad assumption.

But, damn. Even if I had been planning to put a bullet in his brain—had he never heard of the idea of dying with a little dignity? With a little honor?

Nah. We die how we live. And this asshole had never lived with honor. Not for one day in his miserable little life.

"What happens to you next depends on you," I assured him in a calm, steely voice. Best not to let him get too comfortable.

"Okay, okay! I said I would help you. And I will. I just don't know what else I can do."

I grabbed a chair that was sitting against the wall, spun it around so that I was facing the back of it, and straddled it. "That's what we're going to find out, Woodward. What do you know that might be useful?" I shrugged. "I hope there's something. For your sake. I definitely hope there's something."

His eyes widened, and his chest rose and fell with his rapid breaths. He tilted his head back, obviously searching his memory for anything he might know that would be useful.

It was clear from the expression on his face that he was racking every corner of his mind for information. Unfortunately, there apparently weren't many corners to rack.

I decided to start him out on the right track. After all, we were on a clock now. As much as I enjoyed watching him squirm, it wasn't a good use of time. "Start here. How did Barlowe know that you were the person to contact?"

His face lit up. "Yeah! That's true! I mean, I don't know exactly. But I can take a guess. He has a ton of law enforcement, from all different branches, in his pocket. As I'm sure you can imagine. But not just for the purposes of looking the other way, or covering up for, his criminal activities. He's also had to take care of a lot of the trouble his dumbass son has gotten into. And, trust me — getting some of that shit swept under the rug has been more expensive than covering up for his own enterprise. And that's saying a lot. So, I don't know, but I would imagine one of those contacts put him on to me."

The idiot had no idea that he had already given me gold. In just one short paragraph’s worth of nervous babbling, he had told me that Barlowe had a son.

There was no public record of that son. I was sure of that, or Crypt would've found it. I could feel in my gut that this "dumbass son" was going to be the key to unlocking Savannah's future. I just had to figure out how. And in order to do that, I needed details. Lots of details.

"Start talking," I growled. "Everything you know about the son. Who is his mother? How did he keep them under wraps? Where does he live? What kind trouble has he gotten into? Everything. Now."

"Fine," Woodward agreed. "I don't know what good you think it's going to do you, though. It's not like the son knows anything about Barlowe's organization. All he does is play video games and smoke weed."

"Perfect. We're off to a great start. Now tell me everything else you know. "

"I don't understand –"

"You don't need to," I snapped. "Just talk. Now."

Woodward spent the next several hours spilling his guts about Barlowe's kid. Everything he knew, and everything he had heard. I took the gossip with a grain of salt, but it was still useful to have. A lot of times, there is more truth in rumors than fact, if you just knew which rumors to listen to.

When I had finally gotten every last piece of data out of him, and was completely satisfied that he had told me everything he knew or suspected, I left him in the interrogation room and went back out to join Bear and Savannah.

"Well," I started, and then proceeded to fill them in. “Barlowe has a son. He’s in his early twenties. A real fuck-up. He’s managed to keep their connection off the radar by only paying the mother in cash, and never spending time with the kid. But apparently, he still cares about him, at least a little. He keeps buying off LEOs to get the kid out of trouble.”

Bear grinned. Not his usual smirk. A full-on grin. “Well,” he said. “This just got interesting.”