Carlton ✔

40| The Assassination Attempt

Dedicated to: Nkundapeace

"When one forgives, two are healed."
~ dpquotes.com

Carlton's POV

When I woke up the next morning, I felt like my strength was physically lowered several levels. My bones cracked and hurt, my body was limp, worn out, caressing the limit.

No more.

I was never one to lie in bed after waking up and that determination alone caused me to push myself off; and also the commotion outside my room had sparked my interest.

After freshening up and changing the bandages myself — something my cruel lifestyle had taught me overtime — I made my way out. There were whispers in the corridor, which I followed to run into nobody but Breanna and with her was...Raymond?

My stance straightened, ready to knock his teeth out on sight. "What're you doing here?"

"Raymond and the others-" Breanna interrupted, "-came from Boston this morning."

My heart jumped with joy for a moment. "Dylan too?!"

"Except...Dylan."

I sighed, my soul crushing with guilt from what had happened to him. Was he all alone in Boston with no one to take care of him?

"Carlton," Ray uttered, he had a weather-beaten expression on his face. "We need to talk."

We need to do more than talk, my friend.

Breanna placed her palm on my arm, reassuring me and then she left me alone with him. With my eyes, I beckoned him to follow me to the kitchen. A maid was setting up our breakfast. Pulling out a few bucks, I handed it to her and politely asked her to leave the room for a bit.

The rustling of trees in the backyard complimented the serenity of the atmosphere, contrary to the intensity of the conversation that Ray and I were going to have. Raymond wouldn't budge, his eyes were drooping downward, and was that guilt on his face?

Picking up my coffee, I took a sip from it. "Why are you working for Augustus?"

His head snapped up toward me.

"I'll repeat. Why're you working for Augustus Bancroft?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Irritately, I placed my mug down, trudging closer to him, shooting daggers at him with my eyes. "There's a hawk-shaped brooch that Augustus and his guards wear on their blazers. And you know where else I saw that brooch? On the guards who helped you beat up my friends in the conference room." I gripped his collar, twisting the fabric in my hands with rage. "And you know exactly what I'm talking about."

His eyes were glazed with tears waiting to spill, but he held them back, gritting his teeth, stretching the muscles on his cheeks taut. "You're clever, Carl. But please, let me explain."

I thrusted him away from me, his back colliding with the wall. He huffed, showing fear, masked with an attitude for some reason. "But you have to promise you'll let me go. Because you owe me, for letting you go in the conference."

"Do you really think after all of this, I'll just...let you go?!"

"After hearing me, you will." His voice was stern, laced with confidence.

"Well then, start talking!"

"When we were in Boston, staying at the Price Villa, Augustus approached me. He told me he would go after my sister if I don't give them a lead. The man who followed you in your car that night was because of me."