Finch (Kindred #6)

by Scarlett Finn

  Devon could just imagine how that one would play out:

  “Good afternoon, thank you for calling Knight Corp, how may I direct your call?”

  “I’d like to speak to Devon Knight.”

  “Devon Knight? There’s no one here by that name and I only help the rich and privileged, not those in desperate need. Goodbye.”

  It would be worse for Brodie if he tried to give a physical description because the blonde would recognize her as the wild-eyed, panting female who’d harassed her earlier in the day, which would probably just make her snootier.

  The bar seemed like a good idea. Except, she’d been on an early flight, so although she didn’t know exactly what time it was now, it had to be around lunchtime, not the time of day to start drinking, especially alone. Though she wasn’t sure there ever was a good time to drink alone.

  Although, if there was ever a situation that called for her getting blind drunk—the ring of the phone interrupted her thoughts. She snatched it up.

  “Raven?” she asked, desperate, hopeful, terrified, and exhilarated all at the same time.

  “Fuck,” was the breathed word she heard first, but it wasn’t Raven’s voice.

  Devon shot to her feet. “Zave!”

  “You’re really there? You’re in my office at KC?”

  “Yes!” she said. “Yes, I’m safe.”

  “Stay there,” he ordered. “I’m coming to get you.”

  Her heart had never worked so hard, and tears flooded her eyes. All of her senses were tingling at once. She wanted to fall into his arms because that was the only place she could feel safe. “I have so much to tell you. So much you need to know.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” he said. “You stay in that room and you do not leave, do you hear me? Do not leave that room. Security will be there within sixty seconds, and they will not leave that door, I promise. You will be safe.”

  “They’re not coming for me again. They took me for a reason, I’ll explain everything, but… there’s something you have to know. Something you have to tell Swift.”

  “Swift?” he snapped. “What does he have to—”

  “They’re going for Dove’s cousin. They want to recruit him. I don’t want to explain everything over the phone, but they’ll be on their way there now. If someone doesn’t get there quick…”

  “I understand. I’ll pass that along. But I’m coming back to you.”

  “They threatened you. And they threatened Raven. They said if either of you got in their way, they’d set you up.”

  “Set us up for what?”

  Aggravated, her forehead fell to her palm. “I don’t know what the right thing is to do,” she said. “I want you to stop them and I want you to help the man they’re going after, but if you do that, if Raven does that… they’re going to hurt you.”

  “Raven won’t care. Swift is like his brother. He’d never leave him swinging in the wind.”

  Devon was caught in a tough spot. She didn’t want to explain everything on the phone, but she needed them to be prepared. “But it is his brother,” she said and wasn’t surprised to be met by silence. “Grant McCormack Junior isn’t dead and neither is his mentor, Frank Mitchell. They’ve started their own group, and their message to the Kindred is to stay out of their way.”

  While Rigor’s silence had been infuriating, this one broke her heart. One tear slid down her cheek, and more escaped into the nothingness that followed until they dripped from her jaw onto his desk.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for all of this.”

  “None of it is your fault, shy. Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  The line went dead, and she assumed he’d gone to talk to the others about what she’d revealed. She didn’t know what kind of plan they’d come up with, there was still so much that she hadn’t revealed. But if she’d let them travel back here and then told them it all… Syn would’ve gotten to Kadie’s cousin and it could all be over.

  Devon didn’t know Kadie’s cousin, but he didn’t deserve to be ambushed or drawn into something more sinister than he realized. The only way to prevent that from happening was to send Swift to intercept them. At the least, he could warn Kadie’s cousin about who these people really were. Except, as of right now, they didn’t know everything. She didn’t know, and she’d spent the whole night with Syn.

  Given a choice, Devon would choose this office over any place she’d been in the last twenty-four hours. Zave promised her security, but that wasn’t what made her feel safe. This space belonged to her husband, and although he wasn’t here, he was providing her a secure shelter.

  Adrenaline would keep her amped for a while, but she knew the crash was coming. Devon had done everything she could, but that didn’t mean she could sit and watch bullshit TV as Cedric had suggested. After sitting for a while, her shoulders began to loosen and her eyes grew heavy.

  Sleeping soundly in Caine’s bed had been impossible. But there was space for her to sleep here, so she went over to the couch in the corner, took off her shoes and lay on her side to close her eyes. There was nothing she could do now except wait. Zave had told her to stay here, and that was exactly what she was going to do until he reached her.

  FIVE

  She hadn’t realized how tired she was. Waking up with a start when the door opened, she sat up in an instant and took some time to orient herself in the unfamiliar surroundings. Devon was still in her daze when someone crouched in front of her. Absorbing his features, she brought his face into focus, and everything else faded away.

  “Lord,” she whispered, sinking forward onto her knees in the space between his thighs to capture his mouth with hers.

  Even if this was a dream, she didn’t care, it felt real, he felt real. Clambering to hold him tight, she tried to crawl into his lap, but he took her waist to lift her back onto the couch. She hoped this dream was about to get more intimate, except he didn’t lay her down, he sat beside her and stroked her face as he broke their kiss.

  “Did they hurt you?” he asked. “Did they touch you?”

  “No. No,” she said, shaking her head as she stroked his chest and grasped at his tee shirt. Letting go to skim her hands up to his shoulder and then to his face, she tried to kiss him again. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  The tears heated her face. “Can you guys do the emotional reunion later? I need to get to Swift.”

  Devon hadn’t thought to look for anyone else. Her ordeal was fresh in her mind, but when she twisted and saw Raven standing a few feet from the couch with Zara just behind him, looking pale and smaller than Devon had ever seen her, empathy welled within her.

  “Zara,” Devon said. Something about the meek look on her face made Devon rise and go to her.

  Grabbing her shoulders, Devon pulled Zara forward, squeezing her in a tight hug. Zara returned the embrace and didn’t hurry Devon out of it, as Zave had done, or pester her for information, as Brodie had. Before this, she and Zara had still, to an extent, been circling each other, trying to figure out what the other was all about.

  “You saw him?” Zara whispered.

  Devon didn’t release the hug but did lean back to look into her face. “Everyone I saw asked for you,” she said. “All of them.”

  “She means Grant,” Zave said, and it was funny that Raven hadn’t mentioned his brother at all.

  “We buried him,” Zara said, and her voice cracked at the end when she inhaled and as if to hide that second of weakness, she pulled Devon back into her arms.

  “The fucker,” Brodie grumbled, offering his first substantive contribution to the conversation. “I swear to fucking God, if a guy wants something done right, he’s got to do it his fucking self. I should’ve killed him. I shouldn’t have trusted that fucking Leatt had done it. I should’ve put a couple of bullets into him myself—one in the chest, one in the head. Make sure he had been blasted off this Earth.”

  Devon’s initial thought that thes
e men were brothers, meaning Raven’s comments should be shocking, wasn’t backed up by her own emotion. She certainly didn’t feel any affinity with Grant McCormack.

  But it was Zara’s reaction she was more concerned with. “Did you care for him?” Devon asked when Zara backed away from the hug to take both of her hands.

  “It’s a long—”

  “Complicated story,” Devon said, cutting Zara off. “I understand.”

  “But Mitchell,” Zara said, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head once. “I went to the man’s funeral. I stood outside the room when Grant identified his body. I was there. I don’t know how—”

  “Neither do I,” Devon said. “Thad took me to a hotel. I don’t know where it was. Far away from where we were, we drove for hours. I was put in a room and Mitchell came to see me last night and explained.” She let go of one of Zara’s hands to turn and face the men. “He’s a bad man, the things he did… he knew about your parents, Raven. He was your father’s best friend, but he—”

  “I know,” Brodie said. “I know what he did to my parents. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

  When her eyes flicked to Zave, her heart swelled again. “And yours. He’s responsible for everything,” Devon whispered, wishing that she could have this conversation with her husband in private.

  Zave was a private man who wouldn’t want his business aired. He’d admitted to being reluctant in speaking to Zara, although bridges had been built during their work with the merger.

  “What about my parents?” Zave asked.

  “We need to sit down,” Zara said. Keeping Devon’s hand, she crossed toward the couches and grabbed her love as they went. But instead of sitting with him, Zara pushed Brodie onto the couch next to Zave and guided Devon to the one opposite. Linking their arms, Zara twined their fingers together. “I was there when Rave found out about his parents. I fought with him about learning the truth. Whatever you have to say, Devon, none of this was your fault. You’re Kindred. So you have to tell us everything, leave nothing out. Don’t worry about sparing anyone’s feelings. We’re family.”

  But it was Zave that Devon looked at for permission. “I don’t have to tell you what he said, if you don’t want to hear it in front of other people.”

  “Like Zara said,” Zave said, intent on her. “Tell us everything.”

  She’d seen the way Zave and Brodie spoke to each other, and from everything she knew, they were honest with each other. Zave had opened up to Brodie after losing his parents, and Brodie had helped him through that trauma.

  Zave kept Zara at a distance because he didn’t want a repeat of the Bronwyn situation, but Zara must have proved herself to the Kindred, and she’d married Brodie. They weren’t sitting in a room of strangers. They were sitting in a room with trusted friends.

  “Ok,” Devon said. “But no one can leave this room until I’m finished.”

  “Agreed,” Zara said and nudged her. “Good rule.” Pointing a finger at each of the men, Zara swung it between them. “That means you two keep each other in line, as well. You’re too big for either of us to stop on our own. So if either takes a hissy fit, the other has to put him on his ass.”

  Devon appreciated Zara’s candid attempt to break some of the tension because they were all nervous, and this was about to get worse.

  “Ok,” Devon said. “I’ll start with what he told me in the hotel room.”

  Recounting the story of Zave’s parents to him was difficult. But it taught them all about what they were dealing with. Devon started with Game Time and a lot of it she thought the others already knew. But there was some information they had been ignorant to.

  She spoke for nearly an hour, and at various points everyone except her was on their feet, storming away, or turning their back. The bar had been opened for Brodie, her, and Zara, but Zave wasn’t drinking. She’d never seen him with alcohol.

  “I can’t believe Thad would do this to us,” Zara said. “I can’t believe it.”

  Devon had gotten to the point in the story where Mitchell had said he was going to introduce his team to her. “Fuck him,” Brodie muttered.

  “Why would he do this to us?” Zara asked.

  Devon had neglected to tell them one fact, one that she was desperate to hold onto. Except, she didn’t want them to be blindsided with it. “There’s one more thing,” Devon said.

  Brodie was at the bar, staring into his empty glass. Zave was seated on the couch, elbows on his knees and his hand over his mouth. Zara was on her feet, at the end of the coffee table. Devon was seated exactly where she’d been when she started talking. “What?” Brodie snapped.

  Squirming, she was hesitant. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “It can’t be any worse than what you’ve already told us,” Zara said, going over to give Zave’s shoulder a squeeze before she joined her man at the bar. “And I thought we were telling each other everything.”

  “It’s about Thad?” Zave asked, and she made eye contact.

  “Yes. But… it’s about Bess too. I don’t know how we’re going to do it. I don’t know how we’re going to go to that poor woman and tell her what’s happened.”

  The pressure of heat in her sinuses pissed her off because she didn’t want to get upset. But when she thought about returning to the island, somewhere she wanted to be, and walking into the manor, the first image that came to mind was Bess and how she was going to react when she noticed that Thad wasn’t with them.

  She may panic that something had happened to her son, that he’d been hurt, or worse. But when they told her that he had betrayed the Kindred, she wasn’t sure Bess would recover.

  “We’re family,” Brodie said. “We protect Bess same as we always did. What that fucker of a kid did isn’t on her.”

  Zara stroked his upper arm, but he ignored the comfort.

  Devon couldn’t look at any of them as she made the confession. “Frank Mitchell,” she said. “Is his father.”

  Zave sat back, his hands sliding from his knees, up his thighs. Brodie swept an arm around to push Zara away as he moved a step toward the couch. “How the fuck did—”

  “They hooked up at a party after Grant was born,” Devon said. “I don’t know, his christening or naming ceremony, whatever he had. She got pregnant. All he told me was they came to an arrangement. Money for silence, I guess, I don’t know for sure.

  Zara was aghast. “Thad knew?”

  “No. Not until recently, I don’t know when, but I think that’s how they got him. They played on the father thing.”

  Devon wished that she had more answers and could make sense of this revelation for the men who had to be shocked by it. All their lives they’d been oblivious to who had sired their cousin, and it hadn’t mattered to them. But they could never have known that the man responsible for Bess’ pregnancy would wield power with his offspring decades later or that he would even want to.

  “His father,” Zave said, twisting to look over the back of the couch at Brodie. “His fucking father.”

  The cousins weren’t as audibly shocked as Zara was, but their amazement was unmistakable. “You’re telling me,” Brodie said.

  Still trying to get a grip on what this meant, Zara was both alarmed and astonished. “You had no clue?” Zara asked. “Didn’t anyone ever think to ask Bess?”

  “You don’t ask shit like that,” Brodie grumbled. “She never told and we never asked.”

  Taking some time to process, no one said anything for a minute. “Do you think Art knew?” Zara asked, reigniting the men’s fixation on each other.

  “Probably,” Zave said.

  Brodie reached for the liquor bottle. “I’d kick his fucking ass if he did. How could he know that and not tell me?”

  “Because he was protecting his sister,” Zara said, walking around Brodie to come back to the couch. “Puts into perspective why Art and Mitchell never saw eye-to-eye. Mitchell knocked up his sister and abandoned her.”

  “If he’d told m
e, I’d have taken him out,” Brodie said.

  Zara scowled at her husband. “It doesn’t matter what happened then. What matters is that we know now. And you had to tell us, Devon, because at some point we’re all going to be in a room together. Anything we don’t know can be used against us.”

  Devon appreciated Zara’s support. On the flight north, she’d made the decision not to tell anyone about Thad until she’d spoken to Bess. But as Zara said if any of them were faced with Mitchell, Grant, or Thad in the meantime, she didn’t want them to be surprised with this information. Syn may take that omission as a sign of weakness that the Kindred weren’t being honest with each other.

  “So we’ve got Old Man Mitchell, wiener Grant, and fraidy-cat Thad to take on?” Brodie asked and tipped more Scotch into his glass. “I’m quaking in my boots.” He picked up the measure and raised it toward his lips.

  Zara stormed over and clamped a hand over the top of his glass before it could reach his mouth and forced it back down onto the bar with a bang. “You’re not drinking anymore,” she said. “Swift is going to need us, and we’ve got Maverick in a truck down the stairs, he’s sober, so it’s all on you.”

  “My aim drunk—”

  “Is better than your aim sober,” Devon whispered, remembering what Caine had said. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud, and it got Brodie’s attention.

  He abandoned his wife and his liquor to storm over. “Where the fuck did you hear that?” Brodie demanded.

  Devon bypassed Zave in favor of concentrating on the scowling man looming above her. “There’s more than just the three of them. Thad, Grant, and Mitchell are the only three that are blood, as far as I can make out. They want to recruit this Dempsey because he trained under Swift, and they knew they could never turn Tuck. But they have two other men on their team already.” Switching her focus to Zara, Devon rose to her feet. Brodie backed off. “Both men asked about you.”