Me: Whoever they are, seems we’re running out of time.Braxton: And neither of us can afford for that to happen until we are sure. We fuck this up? We’re both dead.Me: Price I’m willing to pay.Owed it, anyway.
Braxton: Speak for yourself, asshole. You might relish the idea of getting cozy six-feet underground, but I personally have plans on wreaking a little more havoc before I call it quits.Could almost hear him chuckling from the other end of the earth. Braxton was a scary motherfucker. He never thought twice about smothering what needed to be extinguished.
But I also trusted him with my life. Two of us tied in this thing together before either of us had known what was happening.
Braxton: Patience, brother.Me: Three years not enough?Braxton: And that means you should be able to hold out a few more weeks. Don’t do anything stupid. He’s paranoid. Believe me when I say you’re not the only one after him. His time is coming.Braxton: Trust me to get a little more. I’ll press Ridge. See if he has a lock on who might have pinned you in Savannah. Until then, sit tight and don’t get stupid.I hesitated, hating that I was at the wheel that was driving all of this. Riding too fucking fast when it felt like I’d been frozen still for half my life. What this could mean for Braxton and the rest of the people tied to me.
Me: Don’t like that I have you so deep in the middle of this.He didn’t have to be standing next to me for me to hear his scoff.
Braxton: There was a reason I swore loyalty, Leif. Don’t question it now.Me: Thought you said you didn’t relish the idea of going to ground.Braxton: One-hundred percent. But it’s not fucking going to come to that. Won’t let it.I blew out a heavy breath as I made it around to the back gate, the area fortified like I was entering a fucking palace.
Sounded about right.
Me: Okay. Keep me posted. Just . . .I paused, trying to figure out how to put it into words. Fact I couldn’t allow the mistakes I’d made—the life I’d chosen—to affect the people I cared about.
I glanced through the metal bars meant to keep monsters out, guts getting twisted up in painful knots when I thought of the people sleeping inside. Wondering how the fuck it was that I’d gotten so careless. Dragging more people into my lane.
Me: . . . Just find out who knows I’m here. Keep this shit in L.A. Can’t afford for anyone to come sniffing this way.Braxton: I’ll handle it. Stay safe, brother.A disorder blew around me, and I stuffed my phone into my pocket while I punched in the code with the other hand. The lock beeped, disengaged, and the gate popped open. I climbed the two steps through the entrance that led into another world.
I moved toward the guest house, slowing like some kind of fiend when I caught the wispy figure barely seen through the enormous windows across the yard. They could almost pass for mirrors in the shimmering, lapping night, my face some kind of hollow void in the reflection, overcasting the silhouette that stood facing away in front of a blank canvas.
Her delicate hand was poised with a brush, and her entire being tremored with expression. But her fingers were held, the ghosts I could almost see swirling around her leaving her with nothing to say.
I scrubbed a palm over my face like it would break up the image.
Make it different.
But it was her. She was the artist.
Knew I had to get out of there before I let myself slip any farther.
Get gone before she noticed.
Too late.
Her spine stiffened and her shoulders tensed, her entire being coiling tight when she sensed my presence.
Slowly, she shifted around to peer out the windows into the night, the profile of her face sharp and bitterly sweet.
That ache in my gut tightened tenfold.
Remember, my conscience screamed, what little of it remained, only thing left the scraps of loyalty and gutting wrath.
That didn’t seem to matter, though, because I took a step forward into a sliver of light shed from the porch above. Something inside me wanted to erase the fear I could see slithering across her flesh, same thing I’d felt that first night. All the while, I knew I couldn’t do anything but add to it.
Her throat bobbed when those sable eyes traced me through the window, our faces over-laid in the glass.
What the fuck was I doing?
I needed to turn my ass around and head for the guest house. Lock myself inside. Pack my things and just go.
But no.
I was moving in the wrong fucking direction. To the door at the far left that led into the west wing of the house, fingers foolishly entering the code that was meant to protect but clearly had been bred for the sole-purpose of disaster.