He Called Me His Weapon, So I Died and Came Back Free novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: The Rifle and the Folder

Bram's POV

I had not opened my brother's office since the funeral.

Nobody had asked me to. His assistant had kept the lamp on his desk lit every night, and left the door shut.

I went in at eight o'clock, after the vote, with the building empty around me.

The room smelled of him. Coffee, and the cedar oil he used on the desk.

His jacket still hung on the back of the chair.

I stood in front of it for a long time.

Then I sat down in his chair, which I had never done in my life, and opened the top drawer.

There was a manila folder in it, marked with my name in his square hand.

*BRAM. Only if something happens.*

My hands were not steady, and I let them be.

Inside was one sheet of paper, dated a week before the gala.

*Bram,*

*Stalworth's people came to see me again. I said no again. I think they'll try something, and I think I know how, because they always use the same kind of weapon.*

*Stalworth doesn't send his own. He sends someone who can't say no. A kid, a debtor, someone he's got by the throat.*

*If I go down, you'll want to hunt whoever did it. Don't hunt the hands, Bram. Find the man holding them.*

*And if the hands turn out to be someone worth saving, I'd like you to save them. That's what I'd do.*

*Eat something. You look terrible. D.*

I read it twice.

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