“It wouldn’t, Grier,” Reid admitted. “It would probably stop them from making people fight against their will, but this underground fighting’s taken on a life of its own. For ninety nine percent of the cases, they’re offering money for fighting. An exchange of goods.”
“But the risks—” Grier persisted.
“Everything’s got a risk. I want to help you. And others who truly need the help,” Reid said.
Chapter Fourteen
Dylan stood. “I’ll take Kell and Teddie back to the hotel. We’ll talk about this more tomorrow.”
Before she left, Teddie walked over and gave Grier a hug. “It’ll work out,” she whispered, and Grier was grateful for the woman’s support.
When she and Reid were left alone, she sat in one of the chairs and said, “I can’t believe that it’s come to this.”
“It always was this—when Benji testified, it wouldn’t have taken down the fighting ring. You’ve got a better shot because of who you are, but you know we can’t save everyone. You can get justice for Benji. That’s got to be enough. You know that.”
Maybe she always had. “It feels … unfinished.”
“They’ll keep popping back up. The only way to stay alive, really and truly, is to be able to take on the small battles worth fighting for.”
“The more I see, the more I realize you’re right.”
“You can still continue to do really good things if you decide to work with us. You already did. Look at Teddie. Look at us.” He paused. “Come on, Grier—I read people and situations for a living, and before I did it for profit, I did it for survival. What’s really the problem here?”
“I’ve always had the urge to take things too far. But I’ve always had the law to stop me, to rein me in. If you take that away …”
“It’s not easy,” he admitted. “Don’t look so surprised. Rules make life seem easy. But nothing good comes from easy. You’ve always got to fight for anything that’s worthwhile having.”
She leaned forward on her elbows and asked, “Who else haven’t I met?
“Cam. Riley and Skylar. You might know her books.”
“I’ve got several on my Kindle. Guess now I’ll have the time to read them.”
“Then there’s Mace—he owns the bar. His wife is Paige. And Caleb is with Vivi.”
“The hacker extraordinaire.”
He nodded. “She tried to work for the FBI but she likes working with us better.”
“Sounds like a big happy family.”
“It is. Never thought I’d have that—not until Kell and I met these guys. We can’t go back there until you make your decision.”
“You really think you can hide me better than WITSEC?”
“You can hide you better than WITSEC. But we’re here to assist.”
“You’ll all be in danger. As long as I’m with you. Because even though we didn’t stop the ring completely, my testimony put away some major players. They want revenge.”
“I don’t care. The team doesn’t care. That’s what we do. And if you’re well hidden enough, you can work with us. Still help people.” Reid put his arm around her, pulled her close. “I won’t let you go this time, Grier. You can try to go into WITSEC, try to hide from me, but goddammit, I’ll find you.”
“And drag me back?”
“Yes.”
She pressed her lips together, because she wanted to hold the words in and realized there was no reason to. “I love you, Reid. Maybe you knew that. But I love you.”
Reid pulled her up and close to him. “I love you too, Grier—probably from the first night I met you. And I hate that you have to associate such good memories with forcing your retirement from the job you love.”
“I was wrong about the retirement part,” she told him. “Confused. Guilty. But I’m not wrong about what I want now. And I have such a different perspective on the witnesses. I always thought I knew what they were going through. Understood how hard it was to give up everything and move on. I likened it to when my sister was murdered—the hurt’s always there but you can still live. And now …” She shook her head, and then said, “It’s all a compromise. This is one I can live with.”
“Dylan spoke with the DA handling the case,” Reid said. “They’ve proven that the money in your account—and Jack’s—was put there without your knowledge. They have the teller who completed the transaction and she fingered our two friends in a line up.”
“So she’s going to testify?” Grier asked and Reid went silent. “Shit. Don’t tell me that she was in protection.”
“Not yet. She was under police protection until the approval from the marshal’s office came through. She was killed in the motel before that happened. Cop watching her was tasered.” Reid looked troubled.
She reached out and held his hands across the table. “It really is just me.”
“You’ve got to call the DA now. I’ll leave, if you want.”
“I don’t want that.”
Reid nodded, dialed and left the phone on speaker. The DA on the case was a man named Ryan Horner and he was crisp, no nonsense.
“I’m glad you’re safe, Grier. I respect your decision to stay hidden, but it’s highly unorthodox.”
“I know,” she said. “But I’ll be there to testify.”
“Normally, I like to work with my clients ahead of time.”
“We can Skype, Ryan. It’s all I can give you, for the good of the case.”
There was a pause and then Ryan agreed. “I have to tell you, Grier—there have been threats made.”
“From Mark and his cohort?” she asked.
“Yes. They told me in no uncertain terms that if you testify, you’re dead.”
Reid tightened his grip on her hand. Even though it wasn’t anything they didn’t expect, hearing it out loud like that was still hard. The fact that they were giving the threat directly to the DA meant they didn’t care about their jail time, and that they had the power and influence to pull off what they said. In this case, the threat was as good as a promise.
“I’m assuming that the threat is good, even if I don’t testify,” Grier told him.
“I don’t think you’re safe either way, no,” Ryan told her honestly. “You don’t have to do this, Grier. You know that.
“I know. But nothing—no one—can stop me from testifying.”
“You know the marshals aren’t happy that you’re not coming in here.”
“I know. But that’s my decision. I’ll be in touch. Dylan knows how to reach me.” She paused. “Watch your back, Ryan.”
“I’ll be all right—I’m a tough old son of a bitch.”
She kept her fingers interlaced with Reid’s and her thoughts to herself for a good long while. The fan created shadows across Reid’s face and the light breeze played with her new short hair, reminding her just how different everything was.
Chapter Fifteen
Reid had watched Gunner doing the last half of Keegan’s cover up late the night before. The former OA had been stoic, but man, it had to hurt.
Looked good, though. Reid considered getting one, but there was a part of him that was always wary about being recognized by a tattoo, the same way Special Forces soldiers always worried about being recognized for who they were. Even ex-military had a huge bounty on their heads in many countries where they worked black ops. Reid preferred to go in as anonymous as possible, even though he was a wanted man in many places, both from military sanctioned jobs and black ops ones.
“They’ve been blowing up my phone,” Keegan told Reid now as he handed Reid his cell phone. “You’ll get rid of this for me?”
“Not a problem.”
“I really hope the OA doesn’t give you guys any shit.”
“Dylan made a big production of calling them to find you—said you never showed up for your shift. I think, at this point, they’re more worried you’ve been targeted by the Killers.” The Killers were a rival MC, and always at war for one reason or another with the
OA.
“I’m glad you and Grier got together again. Circumstances suck, but hey …” Keegan shrugged.
Reid glanced over to where Grier was talking with Gunner by the kitchen. Circumstances be damned, she was coming home with him.
*
It was done. Grier couldn’t believe there had ever been anything else on Keegan’s back. Gunner had lasered some areas, deliberately washing them out so the ink in the patinas rang true.
Gunner had given the man a new lease on life. With his hair a darker shade of blond and contacts and different clothes that included more of a grunge look than the leather, Keegan disappeared effortlessly into his new role.
And she had it so much easier. Keegan was forced to run away and she was lucky enough to be able to run toward something. Someone.
And that someone loved her. “It looks amazing,” she said as Keegan and Gunner bent their heads over a table across the room, going over travel documents and the like.
“He’s good,” Reid said. “Mostly self-taught.”
“Did he do his own?”
“Some. But these guys make it a point to travel and get ink from other artists. Some kind of tattoo artist code.”
“Hey, Grier, check this out and make sure nothing stands out as suspicious,” Gunner called to her. He’d pulled together all new IDs and bank accounts, gotten him a social security number and created a past for Keegan that the former OA member had memorized.
She imagined him going over and over the new details of his made up past, doing so until they’d begun to seem as though it really was his life.
The other packet should be labeled, How to save a life. She looked through what would be entered into police evidence, including a bloody jacket with bullet holes and an article about the shooting that would run in the local paper.
“And the Internet spreads shit faster than the speed of light.”
“What if they want to see the body?”
“They’ll see pictures of the body. But since no one claimed him, he was cremated,” Gunner finished. “It’s the best we can do—can’t risk anything else.”
The tattoo cover up would save him more than anything else here. “When are you doing this?”
“I’m leaving tonight,” Keegan said. “And I’d tell you that if you need me, call …”
But he couldn’t. Ever. And if for some reason he ever ran across any of them, he’d have to walk the other way, pretend he’d never known them.
“It’s worth it for me, Grier,” he told her. “Don’t be sad for me. I’m not. I’m ready for this.”
All she could do was hug him. He hugged her back and when she pulled back, he said, “Reid’s a great guy. I’m happy for you.”
“Me too.”
“It’s time, Keegan.” Gunner held a bag and a suitcase. “Your ride’s out front.”
“Just tell me it’s not a minivan,” Keegan said.
“I couldn’t do that to you. Okay, I wanted to, but Reid wouldn’t let me.”
Grier looked up to see Dylan, Kell and Teddie in the shop, waiting to say their good-byes to Keegan as he readied to disappear.
Teddie. Keegan. And now her. There were so many people out there hiding themselves, so many with secrets no one would ever know.
“He’ll be all right,” Reid told her. “And so will you.”
She realized that she believed that as well as she waved good-bye to Keegan and watched his car disappear into the night.
Chapter Sixteen
They stayed with Gunner for six months, and Reid never left her side for longer than it took to run to the store. She was able to go out a bit with her bodyguards. She said good-bye to Keegan. She let Gunner tattoo her with a symbol Reid picked out, and decided tattoos were addictive.
And finally, the date of the trial was set—continuances blocked. It was fast-tracked because of the danger to the witness, and because the men she was testifying against were already behind bars. That last part was thanks to Dylan, who’d taken Jack with him to track them down in Mexico and drag them back across the border. Except Jack denied that last part and claimed he caught them in Texas and she began to understand that, at times, there were things in the gray that needed to be there.
She also understood that Jack was in deep trouble, as much as she was, for his part in it. But he continued working with the marshal’s office, knowing that Grier wouldn’t be coming back.
“Are you ready?” Reid asked her. He’d been plying her with beignets and coffee and now it was time to begin the drive to Texas. Dylan would be with them and the rest of the team would be waiting for them at the hotel and the courthouse.
“You come back and see me again,” Gunner told her.
“Hey,” Reid said. “You’d get both of us.”
Gunner shrugged and grinned. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Twenty-four mainly sleepless hours later, Reid escorted her to the courthouse. Even though he wasn’t by her side, his presence gave her the most comfort. He and his team—their friends—were fanned out everywhere, her own personal security team. That allowed her to be able to concentrate on her testimony.
She sat next to Ryan, her hair back to its original dark color for now. She felt like she was playing a role and she supposed it was good that this felt wrong.
She’d had Dylan not allow her parents in the courtroom. Reid couldn’t protect all of them. But Benji’s parents were there, along with the parents of the other teens who died during their fights.
She made a special request to talk to Benji’s parents and the bailiff escorted her over to where they sat, several rows behind her. She slid into the bench next to Benji’s mom and there was so much she wanted to say. But when she opened her mouth, all she could croak out was “I’m sorry—I tried.”
“Thank you” was all Benji’s mom could manage as well, and she took Grier’s hand in hers while his father nodded stoically.
“He didn’t want you to worry,” she said finally.
“He had a good heart,” his father agreed.
“Grier, it’s time,” Ryan said gently behind her.
“We’ll get him justice,” she told them. “For Benji, for the other kids who were hurt by all of this.”
“We know our son hurt other people … but not on purpose,” Benji’s mom told her suddenly. “He wasn’t a killer.”
“No, he wasn’t.” Grier gave her hand a last squeeze and was back in her seat, rising as the judge entered the courtroom.
From there, things were a blur.
It took three weeks before all the evidence was presented. She’d been grilled for four days straight, grueling questioning that had her reliving her experiences, her failure to keep Benji safe and why. The fact that she was now a target for the rings of illegal underground fighting that would still remain in existence, despite all her testimony.
But she would make a small difference, and that’s what counted.
Every afternoon, Grier was walked outside between the two police officers who would escort her to the marshal’s office. They were upset that she hadn’t surrendered ahead of time, but she had no charges pending against her and had no legal obligation to testify. She’d checked in regularly with the lawyer and so far, so good.
From there, Reid would take her to the safe house. Today, they were going there temporarily, waiting to be called back. The jury would deliberate and they hoped their plan would work.
“We’ve been followed,” Reid confirmed now from the back of the marshal’s car Jack drove.
“Good. Exactly what we were hoping for,” Jack said. “They think she’s going into hiding with the marshals after the trial. They know they’ll have to get her before that happens.”
“I can’t believe I have to die again,” she said.
“You’re good at it,” Reid pointed out, and she guessed they’d gotten to the point where they could joke about it. But his eyes had clouded for a moment and she bit her apology back, because she’d promised him she’d s
top.
“If you think it’s the best way.”
“I do. I wouldn’t put myself through it again if I didn’t think so.”
It took two days of waiting, pacing, Reid doing anything he could to take her mind off things—and he got very creative—before they got called back in.
The jury pronounced the men guilty. Tears rose in her eyes but she pushed them back and remained stoic as she made eye contact with the men responsible for Benji’s death and her kidnapping and imprisonment. The man no longer wore the rings, but he grinned at her.
“You’ll get yours now, bitch,” he mouthed. And yes, she would.
It was a little different this time. The car waiting to take her to the safe house was driven by Kell. Jack was with Reid, since he was still a target and the police officers who walked her out to the car wore bulletproof vests as protocol.
So did she.
Her throat tightened and she pushed forward. Someone was going to shoot her—she just prayed Reid was able to stop the shooter in time.
*
While the jury deliberated, Kell, Reid and Dylan waited in the building diagonal to the safe house. The top floors were abandoned and they’d be the best place for a professional hit man to station himself.
Dylan would be in the actual crowd when Grier walked out, in case they were wrong and the shooter would come from that direction. But Reid doubted it. This shot would be to send a message to anyone else who messed with the league.
Reid would make sure that message came through, loud and clear. The hit man was a gun for hire—money would be wired to his account and he’d never have to be in contact with the league again.
They could’ve killed him, but Dylan argued that muscling him out of the job while letting him keep the cash the league had given him to kill Grier would be easier. Kell had been tracking the guy through his bank account—thanks to Vivi—for the past few days. He and Reid made the exchange with the hitman hours before the jury came back and they remained in the same spot where he’d been setting up.
“It’s time,” Kell told him. Reid’s hand shook as he bent down to check the scope. “Let me do it.”
Lonely is the Night Page 10
