Everyone turned towards Karl. Rhychard reached out for his brother, grabbing him by the shirt front and yanking him upward. “What the hell did you do?” he growled at his brother.
Karl pressed his hands against Rhychard’s solid chest, trying to put some distance between them. “Nothing! I swear. I was trying to make things right for last night, you know, doing some investigating on my own. I heard a couple of Fat Boy’s crew talking about how he got busted out of the police department and then how he was probably having fun with some whore left over from Jerome. She’s up in the penthouse of that building.”
Rhychard shook him. “I swear to god…”
“I promise, Rhychard. I didn’t do anything. She’s up there.”
Rhychard shoved his brother backward. “What else did you hear?”