by Coralee June
He swallowed hard, his steely eyes wary. “Yeah.”
“So you couldn’t respect my answer.”
“No,” he answered honestly. “Because as long as they’re alive, they get away with what they did, and your life is still threatened.”
Which I was trying to handle on my own, but I couldn’t tell him that. “Fine, I get that. But Godfrey didn’t get you what you wanted, did he? So he didn’t fulfill his end of the bargain.”
His eyes darted around before coming back to my face. “No, he didn’t.”
My eyes narrowed on his shifty behavior. “And you let him just walk away? That’s not like you,” I argued.
“It...he walked away for a reason.”
My senses sharpened, and my heart started to pound. “What reason?”
Dad shook his head. There was obviously something he wasn’t telling me.
“What’s going on?”
But my dad refused to answer.
I started pacing the room in anger. I was all out of sorts and couldn’t seem to catch my bearings. I knew it. I knew that day Godfrey pushed me away, he was lying about something. He’d pushed me away for a reason, and it wasn’t because he didn’t care about me. Something larger was at play here, and I was being kept in the dark.
I was pissed and needed someone to take my anger out on, and Dad was right here, ready to eat up my fury like the guilty asshole he was. I’d been mad for what felt like ages. It was an angry thing, boiling up inside of me and breaking me apart. I’d let him see glimpses of the tar in my veins and the fire in my soul, but it was all coming to a head now.
I whirled on him. “You keep doing this!” I yelled at him. “You keep leaving me at the mercy of your empire while trying to work things behind the scenes, leaving me out of the loop, even when it concerns me. You brought in Godfrey Taylor, then you let him leave me, and now I’m worse than before, and it’s all your fucking fault.”
Dad looked like I’d slapped him across the face. I saw the pain wash over his expression, but it didn’t make me feel any better. It just pissed me off even more.
“Rachel, I’m fucking sorry! How many times can I say it?” Dad asked while his face crumpled into misery.
“You could never say it enough. It’ll never feel like enough. I told you when you broke away from JJ that something bad was going to happen, but you were too arrogant to believe me. You’ve loved your damn paper more than you loved me, and he took me because of it.” Anger filled me to the brim, overflowing so much that my body couldn’t contain it all. I suddenly realized that I was poisoned. It wasn’t blood pumping through my veins, it was venom.
“That’s not true. I love you more than anything, Rachel. I’d do anything for you. One of these days, you’re going to have to forgive me.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “I don’t have to do anything, Dad. I spent weeks having to do shit that makes me wake up every damn morning hating myself. I’m trying, I’m really trying. But I’m sick of being collateral. I’m sick of being punished because of your empire,” I said, feeling tears burn the backs of my eyes. “How could you? How could you just let him take me?”
I balled up my fists and hit the wall, surprising myself when it collapsed the sheetrock in our kitchen like Pick’s needles had collapsed my veins. I hit and hit and hit some more, letting anger bleed through the cuts on my knuckles, envisioning the pain that plagued me and expelling it from my body with each bloody punch and tormented scream.
Because when it came down to it, I had begged and begged for my daddy to find me. That he’d take me away from that awful place, but he’d never shown up. He’d never rescued me or protected me like he’d always promised he would.
“Rachel! Stop. Baby, stop!” Dad screamed. I didn’t listen to him. I couldn’t, because all the noise I’d kept locked inside my skull suddenly came crashing out of me.
The never-ending screams I’d been keeping on mute came pouring out of my ears, vibrating my blood and ripping my jagged edges apart. Pick’s grunts, my own sobs, the sounds of the other girls, the unanswered pleas, the water dripping in the basement...it all came back with a vengeance, blaring through me, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
I let myself destroy the wall until my hand screamed in pain, and then I moved on to the countertops. I picked up glasses and started hurling them onto the ground one by one, letting the shattering of my soul match the destruction I wrought. One by one, I let them break, showing Dad just what I looked like on the inside with each defining crash.
When I picked up another porcelain plate, arms wrapped around me, pulling me against a chest that once comforted me when I scraped my knees and had nightmares. I didn’t want Dad’s comfort. Didn’t want to feel anything but the rage bubbling inside of me. “I hate you,” I cried out against him, trying to shove him away, but he didn’t let me go.
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” I cried until my voice went hoarse and the sounds finally started to quiet.
When they were nothing but a dull whisper, my strength left me, and I crumbled. He didn’t let me fall, though. He just followed me down to the ground and kept hold of me.
I hated him for making me talk, for wanting me to get over everything on his time frame. For caring too much about shit that didn’t matter and not caring enough when it did. I hated him for not telling me why Godfrey’s name made him pause. I hated him for fucking my therapist and using my healing as one more way to serve himself.
And most of all, I hated that I didn’t hate my father at all. I hated that guilt chewed him up every time he looked at me. I hated that he loved a broken daughter, and there was nothing I could do to feel whole for him again.
I cried against his chest, and I loved him even as I hated him—forgave him, even as I blamed him. And still, he didn’t let me go.
Chapter Thirty
Godfrey
I sat back in Bonham’s Lamborghini while pretty boy took a nap in the driver’s seat. Driving was one thing that he could still do the same, since Johnny Jack’s man had shot his left foot and not his right. He’d had so many surgeries, I was pretty sure his foot and leg had to have been covered in scars by now, but at least they managed to save it. If he hadn’t been Bonham Brodie, they probably would’ve amputated it.
I dug into the bag of peanuts that were stuffed in the cup holder, tossing some into my mouth like I’d been doing for the last hour as we sat outside Dad’s office, waiting for Stephanie to come back out. I wasn’t a complete asshole. I didn’t want to leave her hanging while she attempted to get information. I even brought Bonham along for a little incentive.
“Can you stop chewing so goddamn loudly?” Bonham muttered. He was cranky since I told him about my plan.
I kept chewing. Louder, even. “What kind of man buys cocoa flavored peanuts?”
“You’re the one fucking eating them all.”
“Nothing else better to do.”
Bonham stretched and moved his seat upright again. “Yeah, there is. Instead of sending Stephanie in to try to get to shit that she’ll never be able to actually get, we could just go in there and shoot the bastard.”
I scoffed and shook my head. “This is why we don’t let you make the plans, pretty boy,” I said.
“Fuck off.”
I arched a blonde brow and looked over at him. I mean really looked. Bonham had always been the level-headed, pleasant one of the four of us. But ever since the shit with his foot, he’d been one cranky motherfucker. “Sorry, you worried about Stephanie?” I only half-way teased. He wasn’t interested in her, but the moody behavior had me curious.
“I just think this is a waste of time. We both know she isn’t capable of actually finding anything of use.”
I didn’t necessarily agree with him on that. Stephanie was scrappy and more manipulative than most gave her credit for. She single-handedly gave Scarlett hell for most of the school year with creative ways that even caught me off guard. She was a determined chick, which was
probably the only reason she still held a torch for Bonham. It would take an act of God to get them together.
Bonham flicked on the radio just as I felt my phone go off in my pocket. I pulled it out and frowned at the text message from Luis.
Luis: Looks like ur girl is hooked. Goin back 4 more.
My jaw clenched at the implication of what he was saying. Fuck. Had Rachel relapsed and gone for the needle again? I swore to God, if Luis’s mom hooked her up with drugs, I’d fucking make that woman’s life a living nightmare.
Before I could reply to Luis, asking him what the fuck he was talking about, a photo came through from him. I clicked to enlarge it right away. It was Rachel, but to my immediate relief, I realized that Luis was just fucking with my head, because it wasn’t a picture of her using drugs. It was a picture of her at the poker ring again. The photo was a little grainy, but I could see she was wearing a simple black dress with no sleeves, showing off her tattoo. She was at the underground bar, sipping rum and clasping the velvet case with the elite poker room key inside.
I was so busy staring at every damn detail of the photo that I didn’t see the person walking up to our car. I jerked in my seat when I a loud knocking on the passenger side window sounded, and if I hadn’t mastered the art of concealing every goddamn reaction I had, I would have flinched when I saw Eddie standing out there in his pretentious suit, diamond cufflinks gleaming in the Savannah sun. I rolled the window down as Bonham put the car in drive, prepared to flee at a moment’s notice.
“Eddie,” I said in greeting.
“Godfrey,” he replied. “What brings you out here? If you wanted some quality time with your dear old daddy, you might want to actually go inside.”
Bonham scoffed on my behalf. He wasn’t nearly as good at hiding his reactions as I was. If I weren’t in the middle of a stare down with the new leader of the Macon Mob who had threatened my life, I would have tossed Bonham an irritated look. The cranky bastard was too volatile for this.
“What are you doing here?” I asked coolly. “Come to hire my dad again to make sure another one of your guys doesn’t get arrested for murder?”
Eddie leaned against the open window, letting his fingers rest against the inside of the door. I idly noticed that one of his fingers looked like it had been chopped off at the knuckle, and he had a pistol strapped to his torso.
“You sure have some balls talking to me like that when, the last time we met, I made my expectations of you perfectly clear. And yet, you haven’t delivered on your end of the bargain. In fact, instead of getting closer to Rachel Nomar, it seems you went further away. That’s a problem.”
The only outward sign of my nervousness that I let out was the way my hand curled into a fist at my lap.
“You didn’t give me a timeline,” I replied.
Eddie snickered. “You know, you’re a cocky little shit. Just like your old man. But hear this—the only reason I haven’t come after y’all is because I enjoy watching you squirm.”
He stared me down, but I refused to blink or back down. I couldn’t. If I showed even a hint of weakness, Eddie would pounce.
“So let me clear things up for you and give you a fucking timeline,” Eddie went on. “You have two weeks to end her, or I’ll end you, your old man, all you fucking Heirs, Rachel, and the little hot piece of ass who’s currently shaking her tits for your daddy in his office.”
My blood ran cold, and Eddie smiled. “Your daddy thinks I need him more than I really do, you know. But I’ve been working on getting someone else in my corner to do his work, because I don’t trust you Taylors. I’m done doing business with people I can’t trust. So if you don’t pay your restitution and regain that trust really fucking quickly, I’ll end you all,” he said with an easygoing shrug. “And I want you to be the one to do it. Because nothing shows trust quite like killing the girl you care about.”
“I don’t care about her,” I said quickly. Way too fucking quickly.
Eddie’s smile widened, and even though I couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, I knew they were filled with satisfaction. My jaw ticked.
He pointed in my face. “See? That right there. That’s why I’m still making you do it.”
“Fuck you.”
His eyes narrowed, and the amusement fled his face. “Careful, kid. Your fuckin’ mouth could make it so I tire of my little cat and mouse game, and I blow your brains out right here and now.”
To prove his point, he reached down to the pistol at his side, and I sucked in a breath, prepared to stare down the barrel of a gun, but Bonham was faster. He had his glock in his hand and pointed at Eddie in a second.
“I’d keep your hand out of your jacket if I were you, asshole,” he said. His finger was hovering over the trigger like he was damn well prepared to kill the new Macon Mob boss right there in the busy street. “There are an awful lot of witnesses around. You wouldn’t want to be seen shooting a golden Savannah Heir outside of Gerald Taylor’s law office now, would you?”
Eddie paused, and I swallowed hard, nearly making my Adam’s apple rub against the cool metal of Bonham’s glock. I watched Bonham keep steady, wondering if he was self-destructive enough to go through with it. The whole point of going through Judge Palmisano was to make sure none of us ended up in a cell in federal prison. But Bonham hadn’t been the same since getting shot. He’d been reckless, taking too many chances just to prove he could.
The stare down felt like it lasted forever. I was prepared for Eddie to get pissed enough to pull his gun out anyway and for Bonham to fire right in front of my face. My heart was beating so fast, I couldn’t even feel the individual beats. It felt like just one long continuous thump.
And with the worst timing ever, Stephanie suddenly popped up and yanked open the passenger door on Bonham’s side and slid in. The distraction caused our attention to snap, and finally Eddie dropped his hand, and Bonham dropped his, too. Stephanie looked nervously between them, eyeing Bonham’s gun.
Eddie directed his attention back over to me. “Congratulations, Taylor. Your buddy just pissed me off. Maybe it’s time I take things into my own hands,” he threatened, making all the blood drain from my face. “I don’t care how much cash or protection your old man offers. I’m going after her, and then I’ll end you.”
With that, he spun on his heel and stalked away, and the three of us stared in silence, watching him get into the passenger side of a sports car and take off.
“Fuck!” I punched the dash hard enough to split my knuckles.
Bonham hissed and tossed the gun into the glove box. I noticed that his hands were shaking. “I should’ve fucking shot him.”
My heart was racing, and I kept watching the blood from my knuckles drip down my skin. “Get to Luis’s bar. That’s where Rachel is.”
Bonham threw the car into drive and hit the gas, screeching his tires as he sped away.
“Jesus,” Stephanie muttered from under her breath as she was tossed around in the backseat until she managed to belt herself in. “What the hell kind of shit are you guys in?” For the first time, Stephanie looked at Bonham without stars in her eyes, and she kept glancing at the glove compartment like she could still see the gun.
“Nothing pretty,” I told her, as I tried calling Luis. It went to voicemail, and I cursed and shot off a text, hoping that he would fucking reply.
“Did you get anything?” I asked, more to distract myself than anything. If we didn’t get to Rachel soon, I was gonna lose it.
Stephanie pulled out her phone and handed it to me, and I started scrolling through the photos she’d taken. “He wouldn’t take my case, but he referred me to someone else. When he left the room, I tried to look through some stuff.”
I went through photo after photo, but everything she’d managed to get was just client paperwork and legit paper trails. Fuck.
“He seems pretty legit. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, not that I have any idea of what I’m supposed to be looking for,” Stephani
e chided. I flipped through the photos a couple more times then handed her back the phone. Another fucking dead end. At the rate we were going, we’d never find Judge Palmisano something he could use to arrest my father. After all this time and effort, I was no closer to taking care of him or Eddie.
Death was breathing down our necks, and I wasn’t sure I had the moves to win the game anymore.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rachel
As I rounded the corner on the sidewalk, I caught a shadow trailing me.
I knew it was too easy to leave the house today. I’d snuck out of my room through the window, and none of dad’s lackeys had noticed. Or so I thought. I should’ve known I wouldn’t be able to get away so easily.
After my blow up with my dad, he had resorted to making my detail follow me in secret so as not to make me feel so suffocated by the constant security. I appreciated the gesture, but Beau had been following me, too, and he was so damn obvious about it. He didn’t even really try to hide, which made me grind my teeth. Did he honestly think I wouldn’t notice?
Either way, I needed to keep my head in the game and make sure I was always watching my back. Something was going on. Dad admitted it himself that Godfrey left me for a reason. There was something bigger at play, which meant the gang was probably moving in. I was taking a desperate, last-ditch effort to find out Pick’s identity. The Macon Mob was huge, and Forty-One only had so many resources. He needed that info if I was ever going to get my revenge, and call it paranoia, but I felt like the clock was ticking. Luckily, Forty-One had heard through the grapevine that some of the gang members were known players at the Salvador poker ring. Which was why I was on my way there now.
When I saw the stalking shadow again, I sighed. “You can come out now,” I called out over my shoulder.
Beau slipped out of the shadows of a nearby building, not even having the decency to look a bit sheepish. “Figured you’d know I was following you. Wanted to at least give you the semblance of privacy, but this seems more fun,” he replied with a cheeky grin before thrusting his hands in his tight denim pockets.
