I hate being in this office. Watching cameras and waiting. I don’t miss the rush of being on the streets, but I hate not being beside the men who are risking their lives for me right now. Without the first move made on this side, the leaks and intel can’t be trusted.
I’m waiting. The adrenaline competes inside of me with the hate and pent-up rage. And here I sit. Waiting.
“Carter.” Jace’s voice carries through the closed door. I haven’t left since Daniel slammed it shut earlier and it’s only now that I remember our fight. My brothers rotate in and out of my office, I’m used to them coming and going. And seemingly forgetting past conversations in order to handle business.
“Come in,” I call out to him, and instantly the door opens.
“The Red Room, the stash in the backroom is gone, and the fucker who broke in last night to take it was found face down in the river this morning.” Jace’s words come out like an assault as he paces to the chair across from me, gripping the back of it and staring at me waiting for answers.
All day, this is what I do. Accept information and move chess pieces. That’s how true empires are built. The bloodshed is nearly the conquering of a knight. Some poor fool dies, so the men with power make a simple move, knowing more are to come and there’s more game left to play.
“Do the cops have any idea who did it?” I ask him, bringing my thumb to my chin and running the pad along the stubble there. I need to shave. Jace and I are more alike than I care to admit. The back and forth of the motion keeps me focused on Jase and this shitstorm.
Jace speaks in rapid fire, giving me all the details from his conversation with Officer Harold. No leads on a suspect, no trace of him on any city cameras once he leaves the edge of town and heads down to the woods on the edge of Jersey. Yet, he’s found dead at the river next to his house hours later.
“It doesn’t add up,” I answer Jace, meeting his gaze as he lowers himself to the chair opposite mine on the other side of my desk. His thumb raps on the armrest as he nods.
“Someone’s fucking with us. Letting us know that they can steal from us, kill on our turf, and they can get away with it.”
“Marcus,” I say the name without thinking. “He’s the only man who’s ever been able to get away with that shit.”
“And only because he’s a fucking ghost with no face.” He takes a calming breath before adding, “Just one look on a tape and we’ve got his ass.”
“How many decades now has he gotten away with it? Any territory, any head he wants severed?”
“Why fuck with us though? Why us?” He leans forward, letting the anger show in his voice and his posture.
“Daniel turned on him first, blaming him for what happened to Addison with no proof.” Instead of indulging in the rage of having product stolen from us and the opportunity for justice torn from my hands, I consider everything logically. It’s how it needs to be handled. With nothing but cold-hearted control.
“I don’t know… If he set up Addison…” Jase’s thoughts are left unfinished, but I know what he’s thinking. If Marcus is after us, it’s only a matter of time before we find out what he truly wants.
And if he went after Addison, he won’t stop until he has her.
“The cameras and men have the safe house fully under surveillance?” I question Jase, although it’s more of a reminder to myself. He nods with his thumb brushing across his lip.
“Yeah, there’s no way he’d get in without us knowing.”
“And who knows?” I ask him as the pieces fall one by one into the puzzle of how to handle this.
“Who knows what?” he asks to clarify, a brow lifting.
“Who knows we had someone steal from us and then they turned up dead?”
“Jared and two of his men. The men in our pocket at the station want to know what to do; they haven’t asked outright, but they think it was our hit on the fucker.”
“Good.” My quick response in a hardened voice surprises my brother. He should know better by now. “Tell Jared I handled the prick who broke in. Tell the police that we’re grateful for their cooperation and pay them off.” Jase’s eyes go wide and a look of outrage is there for only a moment. But as soon as it comes, it’s gone.
“So, no one thinks we don’t have this under control?” he surmises.
“Exactly.”
“But we don’t.”
“It’s about perception, Jase. One moment of what could look like weakness and our allies become enemies. The men we have under our thumb think they can wiggle free and take a shot back.”
“What do I do about finding out who did this shit?”
“Put Declan on it. He needs to go through home security system footage around the river starting at the dead fuck’s house. We can’t rely on the city surveillance.”
As Jase nods, he settles into the chair. No one steals from us or fucks with us. Even Marcus wouldn’t dare. I never thought it was him when it came to Addison. Daniel came up with that shit himself because he had no one else to blame.
“I’ll let Declan know,” he tells me, still nodding in agreement.
“You’re not going to tell me one thing and then turn around and tell our men something else, are you?” I let the words slip out with my disappointment and a trace of animosity evident in my tone.
“Don’t do that shit,” he bites back, shaking his head. “Tell me I didn’t do the right thing, and I’ll apologize.”
The large clock ticks steadily in the background as my grip tightens on the armrest and a tic in my jaw spasms.
“You were… in a state where I think you would agree I needed to step in.” He raises his hands quickly as my gaze narrows and the temperature of my blood rises. “It was a difficult night, and I would have never stepped in if what happened wasn’t exactly how it happened.”
My blunt nails dig into the leather armrests as I try to contain my anger, even as my brother sits there as if we’re just having a casual conversation as if he’s no threat to me.
“I won’t do it again,” he tells me easily, and then clears his throat. “I didn’t want…” he trails off and looks away over to his left, to the box still on the ground and out of place. “I just,” he looks back up at me and I can read the sincerity on his face, “I didn’t want her to hate you.”
It takes a moment for him to contain the uncertainty and pain in his expression. With each second, every tick of the clock, the truth of what he says chips away at the resentment I feel over what he did. “You’ve been mad at me before; I know you’ll get over it. This isn’t the first time I’ve crossed the line and it won’t be the last. But I love you, as my brother and my friend, and I didn’t want her to hate you. I know you love her.”
I haven’t seen Jase like this in years. Not since the last funeral he went to. And the second his confession is over, he starts up a new conversation, never giving me the chance to respond.
“I didn’t come in here to bother you with this shit.”
My throat is dry, and I reach behind me for two tumblers and whiskey before asking him, “What shit did you come in to bother me with then?”
“About Aria meeting with Nikolai.”
“I know she decided to go. I spoke to Eli when they left.”
“She already left?” he questions, shaking his head. “What is he going to tell her?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say to put an end to his bullshit. “I let her go. She wanted to go to him.” I down the whiskey in my glass before pouring myself more and then pouring three fingers into his glass and offering it to him.
He takes it but doesn’t drink.
“How many men did he bring?” he asks me.
“Just him,” I tell him, and he lets a smirk spread on his face in response.
“He may be young, but even I’m not that stupid.”
“I know why he did it.” Even though I realize I’m talking to Jase, I speak absently, knowing why Nikolai came alone and what he bargained away just for her to get the note. “He’s desperate.”
“He has a death wish,” Jase speaks up, and I move my attention from him to the screen.
“I told Eli to let her make the decision. If she wants to go to him, let her… and she did.”
“It would be easy to simply lock the door and coming from me…” Jase shakes his head and takes the first sip of his whiskey.
“I want to see what she’ll do.” Every ounce of me wants to control her. To demand she behave exactly how I want her to. Even as I stared at the monitor a half hour ago on the computer, watching her as she picked up a silk blouse I bought her, intending on wearing it for him, the urge to get to her faster than she could walk into that room raced through my mind. To keep her there if I couldn’t convince her otherwise.
“Are you sure that you’re sure?” Jase questions me again. I should feel angry that it’s becoming a habit for him to question me, but I know he’s thinking what I’m thinking, that she’ll choose him again.
With a painful thud in my chest that numbs my body, I answer him, “Yes. She’s already there, waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“For me to tell Eli to let her in.”
“You aren’t going to be there?” he questions me with a look of complete disbelief.
Placing my palms on the desk and leaning forward so he can understand exactly why I’m not there, I ask him, “Do you think it would be helpful if he were in my presence right now?” My jaw hardens, and I can’t help it as I tell him, “This is for her.” It fucking hurts to admit, “She wouldn’t want me there.” He’s shaking his head, and I shrug.
I tell Jase, “She’s not in danger. The only thing that could happen is if she…”
“If she chooses him and tries to run.” Jase finishes my thoughts and I nod once, bringing my attention back to the monitors. Jase looks like he’s contemplating what to say next, so I remain silent.
“Eli will kill him if he tries?” I nod again at his question and throw back my second glass of whiskey.
“I just have to give Eli the go-ahead to let her in,” I admit to him as I stare at the screen knowing I’m giving her what she wants, but not knowing how it will affect us and I can’t fucking stand it.
The moment he touches her, I’ll see her reaction.
I will never forgive her if she chooses him over me.
