The crew behind them tensed, and I balled my fists, ready.
He breathed hard, blinking and looking shocked, and then stood upright again, facing her.
She slapped him again, the same cheek, but the only part of him that moved this time was his head twisting to the side.
His jaw flexed, and I didn’t even care she wasn’t screaming at him for what he did to her husband and the years of torture since. She hit him again and again, and I almost smiled.
He grunted after the fifth one, sucking in angry air through his teeth. “Get the bitch off me,” he finally growled to someone.
Martin hurried to grab her, and we stepped forward, but just as Christiane raised her hand to slap him again, Damon shoved Martin back, telling him, “Don’t touch her.” And then Will raced ahead, dived in, and caught Christiane by the wrist, stopping her.
My heart leaped. Will.
With his mask hooked onto his belt and his kind eyes cast down on Rika’s mother, he said, “I’ll tie him up later, and let you have some more fun, okay?”
She stared up at him, almost looking lost for a moment, but then she broke into a smile.
She turned around, the tears streaming down her face as she looked at the ground, and even though Damon, Michael, and I had so many problems with the people who raised us, not all of the parents were enemies.
Damon put his finger under her chin and pushed, forcing her to lift her eyes up.
“Chin up,” he bit out. “And stop being a mouse, You’re my mother, for Christ’s sake.”
He faced forward, but she gazed up at him, love and longing in her eyes as he took her hand and led her back to the group.
Depositing her next to Mrs. Crist, Michael’s mother took her other hand, standing in solidarity.
Evans spit out blood and then stood up straight, fixing his tie and drawing in a deep breath. “That was always the real problem with you boys,” Evans said. “No matter how smart you could be or how many occasions you proved yourselves shrewd and clever players, you ultimately always resorted to violence.” He shifted his gaze from Michael to Will, Will’s threat to tie him up still hanging in the air. “You never could keep your attention focused on the long game, could you? Friends and girls were more important, and the immediate gratification was what mattered most, when you should’ve always realized that you could trust no one. Crists don’t build.” He looked to Michael. “We win.”
And they were going to win, too. We were vastly outnumbered. Evans and Martin could ship us all to Blackchurch tonight.
“Take your grandfather, for example,” he told Will. “No grudges, because we’re not friends. We gain more this way. Together, we bought time to delay your resort project.”
“His grandfather?” Kai repeated.
And just then, a puff of smoke drifted into the air, and we all looked through the cops to see Senator Grayson pushing off a ticket booth and strolling forward as he smoked a cigar.
I locked my jaw.
He wore a black, three-piece suit with a light blue shirt and the gold chain of a pocket watch draped over his vest.
I’d actually never seen him in real life before, which wasn’t a feat, since he lived in D.C. almost around the clock for the past twenty years.
But I recognized him immediately.
He stopped behind Evans, drawing a puff off his cigar again, his cool expression unfazed.
Shit. I glanced to Will at my side, the stoic look on his face making me more nervous. If William Grayson, Sr. was here, in person, this was bad.
We were all going to Blackchurch.
Or worse.
“You two?” Michael asked, realization dawning.
“Old timers…” Damon stepped forward. “You’ll be dead before we will. Step down with dignity.”
“Calm down,” Kai grit out.
“Fuck calm,” he barked. “I got rid of my parents, now they both do their part. Step up and deal with this, or else I’m ready to go Children of the Corn on this town.”
I walked toward Senator Grayson a few steps. “You put Will in Blackchurch?”
“Mmm…”
My stomach coiled tightly as Evans grinned. I could see where Michael got his smile.
They were a team? They got rid of Will together?
“You bastards,” Michael said.
Evans glanced over his shoulder at the senator. “You’ve been called worse.”
“I have,” he joked.
“I’m glad you came to me when you did,” Evans said, turning back around, but still speaking to Senator Grayson. “I’m glad we could help each other.”
“Me, too,” Mr. Grayson said. “I learned a great deal.”
“He’s your grandson,” I argued. “Why?”
The senator looked past me to Will. “He knows why.”
I felt Will approach my side, he and his grandfather locked in a stare. “Because I liked my parties,” Will said.
Mr. Grayson nodded. “You lack moderation, yes.”
“And because I was going nowhere.”
“And quite fast, too.”
Will moved toward his grandfather slowly, the other man walking to meet him.
“Because I needed time to think,” Will guessed.
“I hope you got it.”
“And because I’m weak.”
“As a kitten,” the senator teased.
Will cocked his head, and Mr. Grayson rolled his eyes. “A puppy.”
Will stared at him.
“Okay, a small dog,” the senator offered, placating his grandson.
I studied them, their banter almost warm. What was going on?
“Because I’m wild,” Will cooed.
And Senator Grayson smiled, approaching his grandson. “Oh, beyond belief.”
“And because I was an embarrassment.”
Mr. Grayson peered at Will, his eyes thinning in skepticism. “Never,” he answered.
I exhaled. “Then why did you put him in Blackchurch?”
For the fucking money? For the resort? To trip up Graymor Cristane? Why?
Senator Grayson smiled, looking lovingly at his grandson. “Because he asked me to,” he said.
And Will broke out into a chuckle, both of them with the same bright green eyes as they dove in and embraced each other, laughing and smiling as they hugged.
My stomach dropped. What?
“What the hell?” Damon snapped.
Evans’s face fell, watching the two men.
Will asked him to send him to Blackchurch? What?
“Missed you,” Will said to his grandpa.
Senator Grayson held Will’s face, taking him in after such a long time apart. “Missed you, too, kid.”
Will
Present
I hugged Grandpa again, inhaling the scent of cigar and aftershave. Pain stretched my throat as I held my relief in check. Fuck, I’d missed him.
“What the hell is going on?” Damon snapped.
“Will!” Banks yelled next.
I pulled back from my grandpa, his presence always a comfort. Always.
He was a constant. As reliable as the tide, and even if I doubted whatever I was doing, I never doubted him. He was always right.
“You were gone too long,” he told me.
“I know.” I let him go. “We have lots to talk about.”
He’d wanted me extracted from Blackchurch months ago, and again a month ago.
And again, a week ago.
I was his favorite. No offense, Misha.
He looked over his shoulder to the off-duty cops accompanying Martin. “Go home, gentlemen.”
They nodded, some casting a quick look to their boss, but they knew a senator’s protection trumped a police commissioner’s threat.
“You son of a bitch,” Evans growled as his officers drifted off, out of the park, only a couple of people remaining with the senator.
I looked over, seeing both Martin and Evans, the realization of how they’d been double-crossed pl
aying in their eyes.
“Don’t trust anyone, right?” Grandpa teased Evans.
I tried to wipe the smirk off my face as I gazed at Michael’s father, but I couldn’t. “Seems my long-game was a little longer than yours, at least.”
He thought my grandpa had teamed up with him, sent me to Blackchurch to screw over Graymor Cristane, and inserted himself to help protect all their financial legacy, but he failed to realize that I was my grandfather’s legacy, and William Aaron Paine Grayson, Sr. would always choose family.
In truth, this plan of action had been set in motion long ago.
“What the hell is going on?” Michael charged up to us, eyeing my grandfather. “You knew? You knew about my father’s role in everything?”
“Will knew,” he replied.
I turned and looked at my friends, all of them staring at me with a mixture of fury, confusion, and unease.
I didn’t want to look at Emmy, but I did, facing my almost-wife with the truth that I’d hidden since the moment she arrived at Blackchurch.
“I sent me to Blackchurch,” I told her and then drifted my eyes around the group. “To make…friends. To see if I could find others just like us—sons needing a home and a fight to live for.”
Micah, Rory, and Aydin loomed in my periphery, and I had no idea where Taylor was. By the time I’d made it to the tunnels, all the cars were gone, and I realized Aydin or someone must’ve followed them through the tunnels, either with a railcar or on foot. I jumped back in my SUV and raced here.
“And it didn’t occur to you to let us in on the secret?” Winter charged. “We were worried.”
“We thought you were gone,” Damon added. “Maybe forever!”
I stared at all of them, knowing exactly what they were saying. I understood why they were mad. I would be, too.
But…
I dropped my eyes, the old doubts creeping back up. “I was afraid I would fail,” I said in a quiet voice.
I couldn’t commit to something, assuring all of them that I would succeed, when I knew it was entirely possible that I wouldn’t. It wouldn’t have shocked them. They would’ve expected me to fail.
And proving them right, I couldn’t handle. Recruiting Micah and Rory wasn’t the only hurdle at Blackchurch. I was also getting sober.
“You’re all stronger than me.” I raised my eyes. “You always were. I couldn’t look you in the eyes anymore. I couldn’t face you. So, when my grandfather told me about the pictures and the fake police report that forced us to plea down before we went to prison, I started digging. Why would Martin do that?” I cast a quick glare over my shoulder, seeing him still standing there, frozen. “Who was helping him who had everything to gain by us three getting sent away?”
I looked back to my friends, letting my eyes drift from Damon to Kai to Michael.
“I knew you’d help,” I told them. “I knew you’d do anything I asked you to.”
“So you went to Blackchurch to recruit?” Kai asked, gesturing to Micah and Rory. “So you could bring them to the table?”
“So I could bring the table,” I countered. “I needed to dry up, and I had to do something right all on my own. I had to go somewhere I could find powerful people who needed us, too.” I met Michael’s eyes. “We needed them. If we were going to go up against your father and Martin Scott and win.”
“And yet,” Evans chimed in, “I have Khadir and Dinescu.”
“You have nothing,” Aydin said, stepping forward. “I don’t follow.”
He snapped his fingers and his crew in the devil masks backed away, standing down.
He looked to Will. “I’m just here for the fun.”
I held his eyes, knowing he was here to collect a lot more than that.
The immediate threat now equalized, Michael swept in, grabbed his father’s collar, and reared his fist back, punching him right across the face. Evans stumbled to the side, tripping over his legs, but Michael held firm and pulled him back up, not letting him get away.
Damon laughed at my side.
Michael leaned into his father’s face, growling low, “Someday, you and I are going to have a serious conversation,” he told him. “I’ll give you a few years to think about what you want to say to me. Now, walk to the car. Don’t make my mother watch you be carried out.”
Evans’s chest rose and fell hard, fear etched across his face as I’m sure he wracked his brain to think about how he was going to get out of this.
But someone came up and grabbed him, force-walking him out of the park as the rest of the officers drifted with them.
“I’ll take care of it from here,” my grandfather told me. “Call Jack if you want the other one extracted, too.”
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
His assistant had been just as reliable as he had been, keeping in constant touch with me at Blackchurch and keeping my grandfather informed.
He stared at me and smiled. “Be safe. All of you,” he said. “I’ll be at the tavern if you need me.”
I nodded, watching him, Evans, and all the officers leave the park. I turned, seeing only our crew, Aydin’s, and Martin left to deal with.
Micah walked up to me. “You needed our families’ power then?” he asked. “The protection of their connections and their investment into your resort? You used us for our families?”
“Wanna use me for mine?” I tossed back. “I asked you to give me till the end of the weekend. I chose you. Now it’s your turn to choose us.”
We did need them, but I wasn’t inviting anyone into the fold I didn’t believe honestly belonged here. Micah Moreau and Rory Geardon were my friends, and in no time at all, I had every confidence that Michael and everyone else would consider them such, as well.
I turned to Aydin, squaring my shoulders. “Leave.”
He glanced over my shoulder. “He could be useful to me.”
Martin Scott?
Aydin Khadir had no interest in money, power, or business. His satisfaction in life came from playing people, and getting his hands on Scott would keep me engaged, Emmy prisoner, and Alex in his life as a result.
“I’ll ask you one last time,” I gritted out. “Leave.”
Em walked over, standing at my side and facing him.
He’d used her at Blackchurch. But even so, he guided her when no one ever had.
For that, I’d let him walk out of here on his own two feet.
He met her eyes, a moment of something I couldn’t place passing in his eyes. “Are you scared, Emory?” he asked her.
Her voice remained as still and calm as her body. “I’m the eye of the storm. You?”
He turned his head, looking at Alex, the longing stretching between them so strongly, I could almost feel it vibrating in the ground.
“I’m the storm,” he murmured.
Alex stayed rooted, Aydin standing there, feeling like a ticking bomb, and I saw someone shift out of the corner of my eye, but before I could place it, Winter spoke up. “Gun,” she said, sucking in a breath. “I heard someone chamber a round.”
I darted my eyes to Aydin, the hint of a smile on his lips, and then Martin reached for his gun in his holster, and I spun around, knowing all hell was about to break loose.
“Lev, take the kid!” I yelled. “Now!”
Lev grabbed the little girl and ran, everyone fanning out as we faced Martin and Aydin, some whipping around to face Aydin’s crew.
I looked to Em. “Hide.”
“Are you kidding?” she yelled.
And then she ran, shooting out her foot right into Martin’s chest, the gun knocking out of his hand as he fell back onto the ground.
The whole place descended into chaos.
Screams and shouts filled the air, someone taking Winter to the ground, and she kneed him right in the balls just as Damon got to her, pulling the guy off her.
Martin’s gun clanked across the pavement, and he scrambled for it, but Em kicked it away. I was about to dive in, but she jumped on him, fur
y in her eyes as she wrapped her arms and legs around him and fought.
I turned to Aydin, who stood ready and willing.
“I’m leaving with one of them,” he informed me.
I charged for him. “You’re not leaving.”
You had that chance.
I threw a fist across his face, taking him to the ground, everyone around us fighting and growling. Winter crossed my mind, and I wanted to make sure she was okay. Did anyone have a gun out and ready to use on us? Did Lev make it out with the kid?
Where were the moms? Jesus.
Aydin threw me over and climbed on top, pinning me to the ground, his fist landing on my jaw, and my teeth cutting the inside of my mouth.
Someone screamed and others cursed, Aydin’s blood pouring down my hand where it seeped out of his nose.
We punched and fought, throwing kicks, and then he grabbed me by the collar, lifted me up, and slammed me into the pavement, my ears ringing and an ache coursing through my skull.
“Fuck,” I grunted, whipping him off me.
Rising to my feet, I kicked him in the face, watching him fly backward, and then I dived in from behind and wrapped my arm around his neck.
Holding him tight, I glanced behind me, seeing Emmy on the ground, her hoodie in Martin’s grasp as he slapped her.
No.
My hold loosened, and Aydin lurched forward, launching me over his body and onto the ground, coming around and throwing his kick across my face.
Fire exploded across my face, my vision blurring, and before I knew it, he kicked again and then again, straddling me and punching, again and again.
Blood filled my mouth, and I couldn’t open my eyes, but I grabbed his sweater and yanked him to the side, both of us rolling over onto the ground, the fight a mess of fists and fingers digging into each other’s necks.
But then something pierced the air, ringing in my ears, and I jumped, Aydin stopping, too.
Was that a…? A gunshot?
Aydin stared up at me, his angry eyes turning shattered. He twisted his head, looking over, and I followed his line of sight, seeing Alex standing there.
Everything stopped.
The fighting halted, and the screams and growls fell silent as her black pullover darkened with something wet on her chest, and I spotted the hole in the fabric.
Nightfall Page 59
