The Prince and the Pawn

by Reid, B. B.

  “If my friend is dead, you’re next,” I told him, meaning every word and to hell with my soul.

  Shrugging, Jeremy continued to watch Wren and Lou’s house. “He’s not dead.”

  “And how the hell do you know that?”

  “No gunshots.”

  “That doesn’t mean shit. Fox could have slit his fucking throat.”

  Jeremy looked at me, incredulity in his black gaze. “Then why bother bringing a gun?”

  “Are you sure you would have heard it? He could have a silencer,” I argued though I didn’t remember seeing one.

  “Maybe.” He returned his head toward the window once again. “We don’t know if the kid is alive, but I do know you wouldn’t be if you had gone over there. If Franklin isn’t dead, then Fox must know by now that Crow is coming, which means he needs Ever alive. What he doesn’t need is you.”

  “Suddenly, you care?”

  Jeremy barked a laugh that made me bristle. “Fuck no. I care about the plan. If you try to deviate again, I’ll remove your head from your shoulders and mail it to your girlfriend and son. We clear?”

  “Fuck you.” I got to my feet before joining him at the window. “So, what now? I’m not leaving him in there. I don’t care about your goddamn threats.”

  Jeremy nodded toward the street. “Look.”

  Another car approached for the third time that night, and I knew before he ever emerged that it was Crow this time. A huge part of me was relieved, but a small part wasn’t. I knew what it meant for Wren and Ever.

  Wren wasn’t quite cold enough to lead his father into an ambush, no matter how he felt about the man as a father. He’d left Crow a message telling him our plan and thus giving his father the upper hand, and then he’d given Crow a choice. He could come for Franklin and Fox, seek vengeance and vindication or…he could walk away and be a father instead. Seeing Crow here made it clear the choice he’d made. He’d chosen Exiled and Thirteen over his sons once again.

  “If fate is kind, your friend just might live.”

  I shook my head, realizing there was no such thing as a sure or easy path. Following your heart was the only option. Crow’s wrong choice just might lead him to save his son’s life. Had he chosen right, to be a father, he would have unknowingly left his youngest son to die.

  “I can’t just stand here. I need to do something.”

  “You can,” Jeremy said as he bent to peer out of his scope. “You can wait and shut the fuck up.”

  I let my gaze roam the room as I stood perfectly still until I found what I was looking for. Of course, I’d considered this happening, but it wasn’t possible to get my hands on the drugs I’d need without committing a few felonies and getting caught. Once I was sure Jeremy’s focus was on the house across the street, I tiptoed over to the nightstand. I only had one shot at this, and I couldn’t risk waking the neighbors with an all-out brawl. Curling my fingers around the heavy lamp, I yanked it from the wall. By the time Jeremy caught on, it was too late. I never thought I’d see shock in Jeremy Antonov’s eyes. I made sure I put extra power behind the blow. Clutching his head, Jeremy hit the floor a moment later.

  No time to waste, I lifted the rope I stashed from my backpack and got to work mimicking the knot he’d used to tie my father. I wouldn’t make the same mistake he did of not tying me up. Once he was secure and no longer a threat, I rushed from the room, taking his pistol with me. When I stepped outside, I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. I could very well end up fucking dead, but I was determined to finish what I’d started. I didn’t take the front door like Ever or Crow or even the window Fox had crawled through. Fishing the key Wren had loaned me, I entered through the back door. I could hear voices speaking low, each one angry.

  “We’re all smart men, so we know what’s at stake,” I heard my father say. A flash of irritation that he wasn’t dead yet filled me. Apparently, I’d overestimated Fox’s bloodthirst. “It seems we’re also at an impasse. Perhaps we can come to some arrangement instead.”

  “You shot my son.” Crow. “I’m not interested in negotiating.”

  “Fine. Have it your way. I only need to convince one of you to spare my life.” Fear that my father would somehow weasel his way out of this had me tiptoeing forward. I’d make the kill myself if I had to and deal with the fallout later, whether it be my soul or my life. At least River and Tyra would be safe.

  I was almost near the living room when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Panicking, I spun around, aiming without hesitation. I realized, with a sigh of audible relief, that I was pointing a gun at my best friend’s head. His golden eyes blinked in surprise.

  “What are you doing here?” we both whispered at the same time.

  Ever waved his hand impatiently. “I’ll explain later. You?”

  I nodded toward the living room. “I was waiting for them when I saw you arrive.”

  His gaze flitted from me to the gun to the living room before he spoke, his voice a harsh whisper. “What the hell were you planning to do when they got here, and when were you going to tell me about this?”

  “Nothing, and I wasn’t. Not until it was over.” I paused, swallowing hard. “Your father is in there.”

  Ever’s golden eyes flared with anger. I’d worry over whether he would ever forgive me for sending his father to slaughter later. “I know. I hid when I heard Fox and Franklin talking, and then I saw Crow come in.”

  I shook my head in awe. My best friend definitely had nine fucking lives. “I thought you were in trouble. How the hell did you escape their notice?”

  “What makes you think he escaped our notice?”

  I spun on my heel, seeing Fox and Crow standing before me. My father must have still been tied up thankfully.

  “Put down the gun, son, and join us.”

  Even though Fox had been speaking to me, his gun was trained on Ever. Turning his head toward his partner turned rival, I realized he’d just gained the upper hand. “You, too,” he told Sean.

  Fuck.

  When I’d sifted through all the ways my plan could go to shit, being the sole cause hadn’t been one of them.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  I dropped my gun, and Sean did the same when Fox grabbed Ever, pressing the Glock to his skull. A moment later, we were all huddled in the living room. I ignored the smug look my father tossed me even though he was the only one tied up and truly defenseless. Knocking out and tying up Jeremy Antonov had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  “You must be Danny Boy,” Fox greeted Ever, using the pseudonym Ever had used when he infiltrated Exiled two years ago. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you finally, but that’s only because I get to put a bullet in you.” Fox kept his gun trained on Ever, the only thing keeping Crow and me at bay, as he surveyed the room.

  His gaze finally landed on me.

  “A fox is never the prey. As impressive as this set up is, you should have considered that before you sprung your trap. I am, however, willing to acknowledge your noble effort. Unfortunately, it’s going to get you killed.” His attention shifted to my father. “Unless…you’re willing to bargain?”

  My father spat on the floor.

  I rolled my eyes because I figured as much. There was no love lost between my father and me.

  “Well, then,” Fox said with amusement in his gaze. “I guess you die first since I have no need for you.” He lifted his gun, pointing it right at my heart.

  I closed my eyes, thinking only of River and Tyra so as not to give away the colossal mistake Fox had just made. A moment later, I felt two quick vibrations in my pocket.

  It was the signal from Wren I’d been waiting for.

  Even though Fox’s gun was no longer trained on Ever, Crow was too far away to reach his son in time. Besides, nothing was faster than a bullet.

  I took a deep breath, said a quick prayer, and then I ducked.

  Before I could even draw my next breath, the sound of the window
behind me shattering followed and then the wet crunch of a bullet piercing a skull. I didn’t see whose, but I had a pretty good idea. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

  My legs protested, threatening to collapse right from under me as I stood. I couldn’t take my gaze away from the dead body and unseeing eyes. Blood and brain matter splattered the wall, and a little had gotten on Ever, but he was too stunned to notice.

  Nathaniel Fox was dead.

  “Son.”

  I finally looked away from the carnage, but it wasn’t my father who had spoken. No, it had been Crow who spoke as he took a hesitant step toward his youngest son. Other than the cleft chin hidden under Crow’s beard and the dark hair they shared, the two looked nothing alike.

  “In a moment, you’re going to hear sirens,” I told Crow, making him pause in his tracks. His blue-gray eyes seemed to pierce straight through me. “They’re here for you both, but they don’t have to be.” His gaze followed mine to where my father was still tied to the chair, his face void of color as he stared at his dead rival. “You can still walk away.”

  Crow walking away would mean that my father would live, and then Tyra and River would never be safe. It was a chance I never thought I’d see myself taking, but there was no clear right or wrong answer.

  Crow looked at Ever, longing in gaze, and Ever stared right back, giving nothing away. Ever was too stubborn to make the choice easy for Crow. No, the father would have to decide on his own.

  Crow shocked us both when he detoured toward the door without looking back. Unfortunately, my father had chosen that moment to break free of his stunned silence.

  “You’re a fool,” he spat at Crow. “I own this town and every cop in it. They won’t touch me. They can’t. I’ll find you and make you watch your boys scream and die in agony.”

  Crow had reached the threshold of the living room, pausing when my father uttered his threat. Ever and I both seemed to hold our breath as we waited. Crow seemed to mull it over before resuming his strides. A moment later, all that was left was the sound of the front door opening and softly closing behind him.

  I stood there, wondering what to do. Should I take Tyra and River and run as far and fast as I could? Ever seemed to be contemplating the same before he stepped over Fox and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Are you?” I challenged.

  Neither of us answered.

  A low chuckle drew our gazes to my father. “I’m going to enjoy making you beg, boy.”

  I suddenly felt the wind howling outside on my nape. It whistled as it blew through the hole in the window. My gaze then traveled to Fox’s gun that had skidded across the floor, less than a foot from my father’s feet. Feeling the hunch burning in my gut, I crossed the room, enjoying the way my father’s eyes widened in fear as I approached.

  To his surprise and mine, I simply untied him.

  “Don’t think you can convince me to show you mercy,” he spat once he was free. I didn’t respond as I put some distance between us, steering clear of the window. I kept my expression impassive even when Ever began looking at me like I was crazy. The front door opened and closed, and a moment later, Wren and Jeremy appeared.

  Antonov, of course, was pissed. Not only had I gotten the drop on him, but the plan had failed. “Why the hell is he still alive?” he snarled.

  No one got the chance to answer.

  My father, as I predicted, had lunged for Fox’s gun. I held his gaze as he held me at gunpoint. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of bargaining or begging. “After I kill you and your friends, I’ll be sure to pay a visit to your son.”

  “How about you tell Fox I said hello instead?”

  The confusion in my father’s eyes was only momentary.

  Glass shattered.

  Skull fractured.

  Blood and brains spattered.

  My bastard father was finally dead. Everyone’s gaze followed mine to the broken window, where there were now two identical holes. The wind outside whistled louder now. The sound of sirens drowned it out a moment later. Even though Fox and Franklin were both dead, I realized just how fucked my plan had gone. Ever, Wren, Antonov, and I were now standing over two dead bodies and no explanation. The sirens were too close to get away in time.

  “Shit,” Ever breathed, the first to speak and verbalize just how fucked we were.

  My shoulders sagged as I looked at Wren and Antonov. They were both still thinking of a way out of this.

  Wren turned to Ever. I knew what he thought before he even spoke. He was willing to take the fall for his younger brother. “I’ll stay behind. Go while you still can.” I wasn’t expecting him to face me next. “You, too.” I was already turning him down when he spoke again. “Think of River.”

  My lips slammed shut, but my feet refused to move. This had all been my idea. If anyone took the fall, it would be me.

  Wren looked at Antonov. “I don’t give a shit what you do.”

  “Likewise,” Jeremy returned.

  “Let’s just all go,” Ever suggested. “It’s our word against theirs.” He nodded toward Franklin and Fox. I bit my lip to keep from pointing out that defense only worked when the opposition was still alive. We all had their blood on our hands, clothes, and shoes, and since there was no sign of forced entry or a struggle, it was an open and shut case.

  The squad cars had swarmed the neighborhood before we could agree, so as one, we each headed for the front door. By the time we poured out into the night, the police were already out of their cars, guns pointed.

  But it wasn’t at us.

  Slowly making his way down the driveway across the street, was Crow. His arms were raised, and the sniper rifle used to kill Franklin and Fox was firmly clutched in his hand.

  AFTER THREE MONTHS OF BEING hospitalized, River was finally going home.

  I tried and failed not to dwell on the fact that I hadn’t seen his father in over a week. Not since I found the photos, and he left without offering much of an explanation. Franklin Rees using those photos of me to torture his son had only sparked more questions than answers.

  My friends had also been too busy to stop by. I figured Jamie and Bee had finally headed back to Philly while Ever went back to Cornell. Yesterday, my father, our only visitor in two days, had come bearing a brand-new car seat for River. As nervous as I was about no longer having the NICU staff for support, if I never saw another hospital again, it would be too soon. It was frustrating since I still harbored dreams of being a doctor. I’d gotten an email today from Harvard, reminding me of the course section for the fall semester coming up. Never mind that I’d had them picked out from the moment I received Harvard’s acceptance letter last year. I never once imagined it not coming to fruition, though.

  As if reading my thoughts, River made a noise from his crib. I smiled down at him dressed in a blue onesie. The words on the front read My Favorite Uncle’s Wingman.

  A gift from Jamie, of course.

  Once River was bundled in his car seat, despite the warm weather, and the discharge papers were signed, I left the hospital with my son for the very first time. I promised Coach that we’d be ready by three. Five minutes past the hour, my father was a no-show. Oddly, the last person I expected to arrive in front of the hospital entrance was River’s father.

  And he was driving a minivan.

  Despite the tension when his gaze met mine, seeing him climb from the van…I burst out laughing. “Tell me you did not buy that because of River.”

  Vaughn’s brows dipped as he watched me laugh at his expense. River’s expression matched his father’s, but I couldn’t stop. Oh, God. It was just too much.

  “What? Aren’t kids required to ride in these things?”

  I swiped the tear that escaped from the corner of my eye. “It’s the law that kids under a certain height, age, and weight ride in the back secured by a car seat and safety belt. They don’t require the back seat to be inside of a tank.” And a hideous one at that.

  What was so
comical, however, was seeing Vaughn drive it. The minivan was a far cry from his panty-dropping Lamborghini. Not that I’d ever risk putting my child in what was essentially a toy car.

  Vaughn’s shoulder sagged with palpable relief. “Oh, thank God.” He then looked at me, his gaze sheepish. “Are you ready?”

  My jaw dropped when his cheeks heated. Vaughn Rees was actually embarrassed.

  I immediately sobered.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed.” Against my better judgment, I laid my hand on his arm. The muscles bunched when he tensed from my touch, so I dropped my hand. “It was a wonderful gesture. Really.”

  He nodded before picking up River’s car seat. He then kissed his son’s cheek, mumbling something that sounded like “I missed you” before carrying him to the van. Silently, I hoped there was some sort of flexible return policy on that thing. I wrinkled my nose at muted gray paint. Even brand new, it was like Vaughn purposely picked the ugliest one he could find.

  “I should call my father,” I announced once we were all inside and strapped in. Instead of riding in the front, I’d chosen to ride in the back with the baby. “He was supposed to pick us up.” I left out the reason being that River and I hadn’t seen Vaughn in over a week.

  “Don’t bother. He told me what time you were expecting him. I told him I wanted to be the one to bring you guys home.”

  “Oh…thanks.”

  Vaughn didn’t respond, and the ride was mostly silent after that. Music played, but he kept the volume low even though he usually liked it loud enough to be earsplitting. River began crying, so I spent the next fifteen minutes trying to console him. There wasn’t much I could do without removing him from the seat. My attention had been fixed on River the entire time, so when the van slowed, I realized much too late that Vaughn hadn’t taken us to my father’s house.

  We were at the beach house.

  “What are we doing here?”