Duncan (The Protectors #3)(9)
“Actually, Pete, I’ve been better.” Sloan followed him. “What the hell is going on?”
Pete actually chuckled. “Now ain’t that the question of the day.”
The Warriors followed the older officer down the hall to a room where Duncan stood bent with both hands on a table, staring intently into a computer screen.
No one said a word. By the look of Duncan’s profile, they knew something was seriously wrong. The four Warriors surrounded him, looking over his shoulder. Pam sat; her chair scooted back from the table to make room for her growing stomach.
Of course, Sid was the first to break the silence. “Son of a bitch. Who’s the daddy?” Jared and Damon grimaced, waiting for Duncan to blow. When Duncan remained silent, not even acknowledging their presence, Sid decided to take it a step further. “At least now you know what kind of woman she is. I mean, you wasted three months of your forever life looking for a woman who screwed-”
Duncan had him up against the wall with a knife to his throat so fast the others were just now reacting. Nose-to-nose with Sid, Duncan’s eyes flashed black instantly.
“You will never speak of Pam without respect again, you son of a bitch.” Duncan nicked Sid’s neck with the knife. “I will slit you from ear-to-ear without hesitation. And to answer your question of who the father of her child is, well, he has a knife held to your f*cking throat. Any more questions?” The last words were hissed as the knife pressed a little deeper.
“Ah no, think that covers everything.” Sid’s eyes also turned black, but his tone held no aggression. “Now can you remove that blade from my throat?”
With one last warning glare, Duncan removed the knife, flipping it easily in his hand. No one was more adept with knives or swords than Duncan Roark was, and when he brought them out, everyone who knew him knew it was serious business.
Damon was at the monitor, ignoring the drama behind him. He knew Sloan and Jared would not let Duncan kill Sid even if the dumbass deserved it. Leaning closer, he frowned. “Jesus!” His eyes met Duncan’s. “She’s a half-breed.”
Sloan pushed him out of the way. “That’s impossible.” At that moment, Pam looked up at the camera for a split second as if hearing him and showing him how possible it really was.
*****
Pam looked away from the fake fire alarm where she knew the camera was, and wondered absently why they tried to hide it - everybody knew they were being taped. God, she felt sick, but she willed it back. She knew Duncan was watching. She didn’t want him to know what she went through. Even knowing it wasn’t her fault, she felt ashamed and didn’t want to see the look of pity in his golden eyes. She loved him, had loved him after he took such good care of her during her recovery from the car accident she and Nicole had been involved in. Her feelings for him had happened so fast, totally taking her by surprise because Duncan was so not her type. He was gorgeous, yes, but he was too subdued for her tastes, or so she thought. Where he was quiet and responsible, she was loud and an in-your-face type of girl…or had been that way before things went bad.
“Can you turn that off?” Pam nodded toward the camera.
“No, Ms. Braxton.” Detective Ferguson peered down his long nose at her. “I cannot. From here on out, I will be the one asking the questions.”
Not comfortable with his attitude, Pam clasped her hands together tightly. The old Pam would have told the arrogant ass to curb his attitude, but that Pam was buried deep. She would find that part of herself again, but today wasn’t going to be the day. Today she felt too raw.
“Who is the father?” Detective Ferguson stood close to her, crowding her with intimidation. “Is it Kenny Lawrence’s?”
“What does that have to do with Sheriff Bowman?” Pam frowned, her arm automatically going to her stomach.
“Answer the question, Ms. Braxton.” He regarded her critically.
“I refuse to answer that question as it has nothing to do with Sheriff Bowman.” Pam stood her ground, but jumped when he slammed his hand down on the table in front of her.
“You do not have the right to refuse anything.” His loud tone made her cringe.
“And that is where you’re wrong detective.” Sloan Murphy walked into the room like he owned the place. “She has every right to refuse to answer any question. As she is a half-breed, she is under the VC Council Protection. I will be sitting in on the rest of this little interview. I suggest you stick with your questions about the murder of Sheriff Bowman, or this interview is over.”
Detective Fergusons eyes narrowed in disdain. “You have no right barging in here. I’m conducting official business which does not involve the VC Council.”
“As stated, she is a half-breed and is under our protection, so ask your questions, but be very careful of the subject,” Sloan warned, his eyes also narrowed.
“I am really starting to not like you Warriors very much,” he spat out in disgust.
“The feeling is mutual.” Sloan’s lip curled. “At this very moment, three Warriors are holding back one seriously upset Warrior who wants to tear you apart. I believe you’ve already met him when his fist connected with your face. So I suggest you be more polite and respectful to Ms. Braxton with your questions.”
“When was the last time you saw Kenny Lawrence?” Detective Ferguson touched his swollen nose before he spat his question out, his focus back on Pam.