Lib Novel Page 50
There it was—the admission, hanging heavy in the air between us. It was an acknowledgment of my own shortcomings, a confession that despite the time that had passed, the pieces of this intricate puzzle remained scattered and elusive.
“Hey,” she said softly, reaching for my hand. Her touch was warm, grounding. “You’re doing everything you can.”
I wanted to believe her, to let the comfort of her words wash over me and cleanse away the doubt. But the truth was a stubborn stain, one that wouldn’t fade so easily. There were too many questions, too many shadows where the answers should be. And somewhere in that darkness, danger lurked, ready to strike again at a moment’s notice.
When would the darkness get my family? My siblings, my mother…Abby?
“Nathan,” Abby said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t know if you’re going to want to hear this, but…Lou mentioned something odd about Knuckles. He said he saw him coming into the Red Lantern a bunch earlier this year. Said there were meetings with some woman that seemed…shady.”
I took a second to process the words, swallowing my food even though it felt like a lead weight dropping into my stomach.
“Knuckles is solid,” I said, feeling a reflexive surge of defense for the man who had been more than just an employee to my father—more than just muscle. “He’s been my dad’s right hand for years. The guy’s loyal. When Ba was off handling business in Hong Kong, it was Knuckles here keeping things together. He practically played father to me during those times.”
I could feel the memories pressing in on me, the weight of a childhood spent in the margins of my father’s world, where loyalty and trust were the currency that mattered most. Knuckles had been a constant presence, a pillar in a life filled with uncertainties.
“Maybe it was nothing,” Abby suggested, but her gaze didn’t quite meet mine, and I could tell her mind was racing with possibilities. “But we should probably look into it. If there’s even a chance Knuckles is involved…”
“Knuckles wouldn’t do this,” I reiterated, more to myself than to Abby. “He’s family.”
“I want to believe you, Nathan.” She put down her carton, and her voice was soft, almost apologetic. “But we have to consider every possibility. What if the woman Knuckles was meeting with was Xinyi Lin?”
The name hit me like a punch in the gut. Xinyi Lin—the woman whose allegiance to the Serpents was tenuous at best, especially after I’d beaten the hell out of her son. I’d heard he still hadn’t recovered—that his hand was broken, maybe useless for good.
A heavy silence settled between us, thick as the San Francisco fog rolling in off the water beyond the balcony. The thought of Knuckles betraying us seemed as foreign to me as trusting an FBI agent had once been.
But here I was, sitting beside Abby, considering both.
“Knuckles cares about us,” I found myself saying, my voice barely above a whisper. “Especially the kids. He’s always treated us like his own.”
But there it was—the realization that might just unravel everything. Because Ba—my father—hadn’t always treated us with the same regard. And now he was after Alex, my brother, blood calling for blood in some twisted family feud.
“Even if Knuckles is behind this,” I muttered, the words feeling like shards of glass on my tongue, “I wouldn’t even know how to start figuring it out.” My hands felt useless, resting limply on my knees.
Abby reached over, her touch gentle as she covered my hand with hers. Her eyes were earnest, pleading. “Let me help you, Nathan. We can figure this out together.”
I stared at her, trying to pick apart the truth from possible lies. Abby’s face was an open book, but that meant nothing. She’d played me before, with her FBI badge tucked out of sight like a concealed weapon. Yet there I was, wanting—no, needing—her help.
“Alright,” I said, my voice rough as if I hadn’t spoken for days. “What do you suggest?”
“First place we go is Alex,” she stated without hesitation.
“Alex has been off the grid for nearly two weeks,” I reminded her, skepticism lacing my tone. “No one’s seen him, not even a whisper.”
“Then you treat it like an FBI agent would,” Abby countered, her gaze locked onto mine. “You find the people closest to him.”
“His friends,” I murmured, finally understanding her angle. It was basic strategy; work your way up the chain. It made sense, but it also made everything more real, more dangerous. This wasn’t just about figuring out a puzzle anymore—it was about family, about blood.
And if I found him and he really was a traitor…I would have to kill him.
I didn’t want my brother’s blood on my hands.
Suddenly, I realized how deep I was in this game—a game that could cost us everything. But I had no other play. Abby was right.
“Okay,” I agreed, my decision firm. “We start with his friends.”
“You know them?”
“Neon Nelson and Javi Alvarez,” I said, the names tasting like betrayal on my tongue. These were guys I’d known since we were all kids running through the streets, thinking we were invincible. Now they might hold the key to finding my brother—or revealing his guilt.