Chương 14
Brutus dropped flat to the carpet.
The movement broke Clara’s heart.
Not attack.
Submission.
The giant dog who could break a man’s arm had made himself small because somewhere in his body he had learned what came after that raised hand.
Adrian saw it.
Whatever remained of restraint in his face disappeared.
“You were at the garage.”
Patrick laughed once.
It sounded terrible.
“You think Morrow was the only one handling your messes?”
Adrian’s hands curled.
Nolan spoke sharply.
“Don’t.”
Patrick looked at Adrian and smiled.
“There he is.”
Clara understood.
He wanted Adrian angry.
He wanted him reckless.
“Don’t give him what he wants.”
Adrian looked at her.
That half second was enough.
Nolan struck Patrick’s wrist.
The flashlight fell.
Patrick swung.
Nolan ducked and drove him into the wall.
Two guards came running.
They pinned Patrick before he could reach the pistol.
Brutus remained flattened beside Clara.
She barely noticed Patrick shouting as they dragged him upright.
“You should’ve let that animal die.”
Adrian moved.
Clara caught his hand.
He could have pulled free without effort.
He didn’t.
Patrick laughed again.
“You saved the wrong dog, Vale.”
Nolan shoved him toward the corridor.
Adrian’s voice stopped everyone.
“What does that mean?”
Patrick turned his head.
Blood ran from his lip.
“You never wondered why Morrow kept copies?”
Adrian stared.
Patrick’s smile widened.
“He knew what was downstairs.”
Nolan’s grip tightened.
“Enough.”
“No.”
Clara stood.
“Let him talk.”
Nolan looked at her.
“He’s baiting us.”
“I know.”
She looked at Patrick.
“But he wants us to believe he knows something.”
Patrick’s eyes narrowed.
Clara continued.
“So make him prove it.”
He stared at her.
The smile faded.
“What was downstairs?”
Patrick said nothing.
Clara’s voice stayed level.
“You spent all day trying to make me afraid.”
His expression shifted.
“So tell me.”
Silence.
“You can’t.”
“I can.”
“Then do it.”
Patrick looked at Adrian.
“There were cages.”
Clara’s stomach turned.
“More dogs?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
Patrick swallowed.
Nolan watched him carefully.
“People paid to train fighting dogs down there.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“Brutus was bait.”
Patrick shook his head.
“Brutus survived.”
Clara looked at the mastiff.
The distinction mattered.
“What did you do?”
Patrick’s eyes flicked toward her.
Nothing.
Then Brutus whimpered.
Patrick’s gaze dropped.
There.
Clara saw it.
Shame.
Not enough to stop him.
Enough to prove memory.
“You held him.”
Patrick’s face went gray.
Adrian moved again.
Clara tightened her grip on his hand.
Patrick looked at him.
“I didn’t own the place.”
“No,” Adrian said.
“You just helped.”
“I was twenty-six.”
“That makes him less afraid?”
Patrick’s jaw worked.
“Morrow kept records.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
“Against whom?”
Patrick looked at Adrian.
“Everyone.”
Nolan’s phone was already in his hand.
“Morrow has the records?”
Patrick gave a bitter smile.
“Had.”
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know.”
Clara looked at him.
“That’s why you put him in the trunk.”
Patrick’s eyes snapped toward her.
The reaction was immediate.
Nolan saw it too.
“You followed Morrow.”
Patrick said nothing.
“You used his rental,” Nolan continued.
“You used his name to get Clara here.”
“No.”
That denial came too fast.
Clara stepped closer.
“Then why me?”
Patrick looked at her for several seconds.
“Because you were nobody.”
Adrian’s hand tightened beneath hers.
Clara felt the words hit but refused to let them show.
Patrick continued.
“No family in the city, debt, temporary work, no one important watching.”
Adrian spoke softly.
“She had us watching.”
Patrick laughed.
“That was the problem.”
Clara stared.
“You expected Brutus to hurt me.”
Patrick looked at the dog.
“I expected chaos.”
The answer sickened her more than a yes would have.
“A maid gets bitten, maybe badly.”
He shrugged as much as the guards allowed.
“Vale gets distracted.”
“Morrow comes here?”
Nolan asked.
Patrick’s face closed.
Adrian understood first.
“You told Morrow you had the records.”
Patrick looked away.
“You wanted him inside.”
Silence.
“You wanted to know where his copies were.”
Patrick’s shoulders sagged.
There it was.
Not brilliance.
Not loyalty.
Fear.
Years of it.
Clara could see the tiredness beneath the violence now.
The man had spent years waiting for something buried to surface.
“So why photograph me?”
She asked.
“Proof you got in.”
“For Morrow?”
Patrick nodded once.
“He wouldn’t come unless he believed the house was distracted.”
Nolan’s voice hardened.
“And when he figured out you were setting him up?”
Patrick’s mouth twisted.
“He panicked.”
“So you drugged him.”
“He attacked me.”
“You put him in a trunk.”
“He was supposed to stay unconscious longer.”
Clara looked at Adrian.
The story was ugly.
But it made sense.
That was worse.
Morrow had not come back to expose Adrian.
Patrick had used Adrian’s fear of betrayal, Clara’s poverty, and Brutus’s trauma as tools in a private attempt to erase his past.
“Call the police,” Adrian said.
Nolan looked at him.
“They’re already coming.”
“Tell them everything.”
That surprised Nolan.
Patrick actually laughed.
“Everything?”
Adrian’s eyes stayed on him.
“Everything.”
“You sure about that?”
“No.”
The answer silenced the hall.
Adrian looked toward Brutus.
“But I’m done letting men like you decide what stays buried.”
Patrick stopped smiling.
The guards took him away.
His footsteps faded.
Then the house became strangely quiet.
Clara released Adrian’s hand.
She had forgotten she was holding it.
Neither mentioned it.
Brutus remained on the floor.
Clara sat beside him.
This time she did not touch his collar.
She placed her hand on the carpet.
He crawled forward until his muzzle rested across her palm.
“You did good.”
His eyes closed.
Adrian lowered himself several feet away.
The old key still sat on the windowsill.
He looked at it for a long time.
“I’m getting rid of every metal handle in this house.”
Clara shook her head.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“He needs to learn that metal isn’t always followed by pain.”
Adrian absorbed that.
“Eventually.”
“Yes.”
“Not today.”
“No.”
Agnes appeared with a glass of water for Clara and another for Adrian.
May you like
Her hands were trembling.
She set them down anyway.
