Total pages in book: 238
Estimated words: 231781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1159(@200wpm)___ 927(@250wpm)___ 773(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 231781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1159(@200wpm)___ 927(@250wpm)___ 773(@300wpm)
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 playing 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.”