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Nightfall: Chapter 39

Emory

Present

Lev and David carted everyone home in the SUVs, and after we’d scrambled into new clothes, and the kids and grandmas were secure at Kai’s parents’ estate, safely under the care of Katsu and Vittoria, we raced down the black highway, pulling on jackets. I slipped on a pair of black leather gloves Banks lent to me, since it was chilly.

But I was pretty sure it was because she didn’t want me leaving fingerprints.

I didn’t argue. She’d had more experience in this. The girls had filled me in last night on everything I’d missed over the years—Delcour, the Pope, Pithom, Evans Crist, Gabriel Torrance, and everything the guys did wrong—and right—in their quests for vengeance.

And Trevor. I’d known he was dead but not the extent of his demise. It all should’ve scared me. It was a lot to take in.

But I couldn’t help it. Something bubbled up inside me as Will drove, and I couldn’t believe how running wasn’t even an option. Even with the fear knotting my stomach, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Sensing him staring at me, I pulled my black ski cap on and glanced over at him in his black hoodie, and the veins in his tattooed hands bulging out as he gripped the wheel. His eyes flashed to me again, his mouth opening and closing.

“Stop looking at me,” I said, facing forward. “I’m coming, and you’re not stopping me.”

I knew he was worried about the mess he’d gotten me into, but he was forgetting that this was all my mess, too. I didn’t run anymore.

We pulled into Coldfield, the place swelling with a crowd, the explosion down on Old Pointe Road drawing people out of their houses instead of back in. Will didn’t even bother looking for a parking spot. He pulled up behind two cars, blocking them in, and shut off the engine.

Another SUV pulled up behind us, and everyone climbed out of both cars.

Will and I walked to the rear of the vehicle and pulled open the hatchback. He dug in a duffle bag, handing everyone their mask, but no one put them on yet, simply hooking them onto their belts.

Misha and Ryen jogged up, dressed in street clothes and ready to rock.

Will narrowed his eyes at his cousin, pausing. “What are you doing?”

But Misha just reached down, pulling out a black mask with a blue stripe. “This belong to anybody?”

Will dropped his eyes. “You don’t have to be here, man. You don’t have to be involved.”

Misha stared at him. “Yes, I do.”

He strapped his mask onto his belt and dug back into the bag, pulling out a white one for Ryen.

Will gazed between them, a smile slowly forming at his cousin diving into the fray with us. “And my wolfpack, it grew,” he said, choking on fake tears, “it grew by two.”

“Shut up,” Ryen told him.

Misha snorted, all three of them grinning ear to ear at The Hangover reference.

Misha and Ryen stepped away, and I didn’t know much about them, but I knew Misha wasn’t a Horseman and he wasn’t the typical Thunder Bay rich boy. Will was family, though, and he was here for family.

Will grabbed one more mask out of the bag, a yellow one with blood around the mouth and eyes.

“They could be distracting us,” Micah told him. “Drawing us out there, so they can destroy the town while we’re running around in circles.”

“They have nothing to gain,” Will told him. “Their beef is with us. They want to confront us. They’re not going to make it hard for us to find them.”

Then he held the mask out to me.

“Real monsters don’t wear masks,” I teased.

He shrugged. “Real monsters might not care about being identified, either. No mask, no fun for you.”

Aw, my man. Layin’ down the law. God, it turned me on.

I reached in and pulled out a black one to match his white one instead, both with a thick red stripe down the left side.

“I like this one,” I said.

He smiled and pulled his out, closing the back hatch and locking the car.

“Martin could be there,” he told me as all of us walked into Coldfield so we could sneak into the Cove undetected.

“Or he could not,” I pointed out.

But he shook his head, leading the way through the crowd. “Somehow I don’t think we’re lucky enough that all of this isn’t connected, Emory.”

Connected…

I slowed, thinking about Martin, Evans Crist, Aydin…

Who put Will in Blackchurch? We still didn’t know. Who had something to gain?

Aydin and Taylor had been in town two days. Why wait so long to make their presence known? What were they doing?

Like Micah and Rory, Aydin, Taylor, and their families would be useful allies to someone.

Evans knew Will had escaped, and now…

My chest caved. Evans put Will in Blackchurch.

Evans was connected to Martin.

It had been two days.

Two days.

I tipped my eyes up, looking around us, my face drifting from mask to mask to mask inside the haunted park.

Plenty of time to plan…

Shit.

“Wait,” I called out, and then turned my head and raised my voice as everyone continued to drift ahead. “Wait!”

Everyone spun around and stared at me, and I rushed for them as Will rushed back to me.

“They’ve been here for two days,” I said, everyone crowding around us. “Two days. What have they been doing? Taking in the sights?”

“They’ve been getting ready,” Michael guessed.

“No,” I told him, glancing around again for danger. “They’re not alone.”

Everyone gaped at me.

“They didn’t come here without help,” I clarified in a louder voice.

Blackchurch’s caretakers would’ve sent them home or to another facility. They escaped and got here fast with someone’s help.

A still figure caught my eye, and I did a double take, seeing him standing in the crowd and staring right at me as people bustled around him in a blur.

My whole body turned hot.

He wore a mask—a devil painted black—and I watched him as he watched me, my heart echoing in my ears.

Coldfield continued to rage like a party around us, people running, screaming, and laughing as “Highly Suspicious” played over the sound system.

“Their parents?” Rory threw the idea out there, and Micah shaking his head, not knowing.

But I answered for him. “No.”

“What are you saying?” Alex asked, stepping in.

I looked to Will. “It’s all connected. Evans Crist solicited Martin’s help to cripple your parents by sending you all to prison, but he didn’t anticipate that you’d get organized on your own when you got out. In time, you became a threat he needed to deal with, too.”

“My father may have done shit,” Michael chimed in, “for which he will pay, but he’s been quiet for years.”

“But mobile,” I retorted. “What if he sent Will to Blackchurch to cripple you like he did to your parents all those years ago?” I looked around at all the guys. “You haven’t moved forward with the resort in Will’s absence, after all. It worked.”

I shot my gaze to the right, seeing the figure again.

Or someone who looked exactly like him. He was also dressed in the same black jacket and black devil mask with the hood pulled up.

I darted my gaze back to the other one, noticing he still stood in the exact same spot. They were both staring at me.

“What if he knew the moment Will was broken out?” I asked Michael. “What if he enlisted the remaining prisoners and their families and had them brought here? What if Aydin and Taylor have been sleeping right down the road this whole time at your parents’ house?”

No one spoke, the wheels turning in their heads as they exchanged looks. As they came to terms with the possibility that Aydin could win tonight.

“Aydin engages in nothing until he’s sure he can win,” Alex said in a quiet voice. “She’s right. He’s not alone.”

I stepped in closer, our circle tightening. “They were probably at the wedding,” I said, gesturing with my eyes to the crowd. “They’ve been following us the whole time.”

I slid my eyes to the left, seeing another one. And then another one.

Slowly, the devils were all around us, slipping through the unknowing crowd and surrounding us like an army, and our crew averted their eyes, awareness finally written all over their faces that we were already caught.

“The masks,” I murmured. “The devils. It’s how their crew is identifying each other.”

“Shit,” Rika whispered, moving her gaze around the theme park.

We had enough to overcome Evans Crist with the eleven of us, plus Micah and Rory, but we might not now if Evans had Aydin and Taylor’s families behind him. And if he had Martin and a police force behind him?

We were screwed.

Rika grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the warehouse, everyone following as we piled inside, hurrying around a maze of dark tunnels, and slipping behind a prop wall, actors gasping as we found them sticking their hands through the holes to grab patrons and scare them.

Rika whipped off her hoodie and unhooked her mask. “Emmy, switch with me.”

She took my mask and hooked it onto her belt.

“Alex, switch with Banks,” she told her.

I remained still. “They’re coming after all of us,” I pointed out.

It was no use to hide my identity when she was in danger, too.

But she retorted, “Not Aydin and Taylor. They’ll be after you two first.”

Okay, maybe. And if Martin were here tonight, I would definitely be a target.

I slid off my jacket and tossed it to her, taking her hoodie and pulling it over my head as Alex and Banks did the same.

“Get to the underground,” Will told everyone. “Em and Alex will go with Rika and Michael.”

The underground?

But before I could ask questions, Ryen chimed in, “We shouldn’t split up.”

“We’ll move faster and easier that way,” he told her.

I grabbed his face and kissed him, out of breath already. “I want to go with you.”

He caressed my cheek. “We’ll meet at the Cove. I have to lead them away from the town. I just want to give you all a chance to get away before they catch up.”

We pulled on our masks and yanked up our hoods to cover our hair.

“You two go with Kai and Banks,” Will told Misha and Ryen. Then he jerked his chin at Rory and Micah. “And you both stick with Lev, Damon, and Winter.”

They nodded, pulling on their new masks. I kind of wanted to smile. Will had thought of everything, hadn’t he?

“Shake ’em,” he instructed us. “I left the door unlocked. Get to the underground. Get to the Cove.”

“Yup,” everyone said, moving out into the maze again. Damon and Winter slipped through first to get a head start.

But before I could leave, Will grabbed me, pulled me into his arms, and lifted my mask, kissing me hard and deep, his tongue making me moan.

I love you.

“Don’t get hurt,” I whispered against his mouth.

I nodded.

He gazed into my eyes. “I’m marrying you.”

And then he pulled down my mask and rushed me out of our hiding place.

Yeah, we hadn’t exactly finished the ceremony, and I wanted all of it.

Rika grabbed my hand, pulling me after Michael and Alex, and I whipped my head around, seeing Will go the opposite direction.

He disappeared around a corner, and I sucked in a breath, an awful feeling curdling in my stomach.

Shit.

I didn’t like this.

We headed through the haunted house, making our way for the Mad Scientist wing as Rika quickly filled me in on how Will owned Coldfield as a cover for…well, Coldfield, the underground transit system he’d discovered. I’d heard of the haunted theme park that had risen up in Thunder Bay over the past few years, but I’d never been here.

I couldn’t wait to see the city underneath.

We moved as quickly as possible, trying not to draw attention, but I couldn’t see where the others had gone until I spotted Damon grabbing a bloody sheet and throwing it over Winter, then sweeping her up into his arms like she was his latest victim.

She must’ve said something, because his lips moved, whispering back to her, and then he tickled her between her legs before they disappeared into a tunnel.

No one else was anywhere to be seen, and I kept my eyes peeled as we slinked through the life-size dollhouse portion, the fog drifting around our feet as the darkness loomed in the rafters above.

I passed mannequins with rotting green skin, fifties-style haircuts, and retro clothes, the joints of their bodies outlined in black to make them look like puppets, but as I slipped through, twisting my eyes from left to right, one came to life and jumped in my face. I screamed, raising my hands to hit her, but I stopped myself, running ahead instead.

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing her step back into place for the next victim, frozen in some creepy posture, but as soon as I whipped my gaze forward again, someone stepped into the pathway ahead of us, a dark form with a devil mask.

Alex, Rika, Michael, and I halted, seeing another one step into the path of our escape. I didn’t think they knew where the entrance to Coldfield was because they wouldn’t have been so keen to stop us if they knew where we were going and could follow, but there were a lot of them outside before, and probably more I didn’t see.

“Let’s go!” I yelled.

Twisting around, I raced between the houses, down a tunnel, and up the rickety stairwell, Alex and Rika jogging after me, and Michael keeping an eye on the rear.

I raced across the top floor and pushed through the door, stumbling onto the warehouse roof. Fog machines and strobe lights worked, pouring down on the party below while decorations, reapers, and evil angels blew in the wind, casting their foreboding doom over the courtyard.

Tall tents stood, protecting supplies from the rain, and I grabbed Alex’s hand, Rika and Michael following as I bolted across the roof to the other side. If we could get back down the fire escape quickly enough, we could lose the tail and make it down to Coldfield.

I looked left, though, and immediately halted, breathing hard as I inched to the edge and peered into the dark expanse below.

“Emmy!” Michael barked. “What are you doing?”

I couldn’t help but smile as I looked into the forest maze beyond, wolves howling and owls hooting over the speakers as a bus sat in the middle of all the activity behind the warehouse, a spooky red light glowing from inside.

Our bus. He’d been telling the truth. He had kept it.

My heart ached that he’d thought of it.

“Emory!” Michael growled again, and I startled, looking over to see him and Rika already at the fire escape, her descending first and then him climbing on after.

Alex ran over and took my hand, pulling me along, but then a dark figure swept around the tents, shoved me in the chest, and I flew back onto the ground, landing on my ass.

The world jumbled in my view, and it took a moment to draw in a breath. But then I blinked and found him struggling with Alex as he fisted her neck.

“Hey!” I heard Michael bellow.

But I was already shooting off the ground as Alex whipped off his devil mask and Taylor faced her, her leg hooking around his and sweeping his leg out from underneath him, sending them both plummeting to the roof.

Taylor landed on his back, her body crashing down on top of his, and he grunted, rearing his hand back and slapping her across the face.

She gasped, tumbling to the side, but before he could climb on top of her, I shot my foot right between his legs.

He cried out, curling up, and I dropped down on him, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as I hit his face. He winced, trying to shield himself, and I bashed so hard, pain shot through my wrist and up my arm.

Someone lifted me off him, my breath filling my ears as I breathed inside my mask, and I almost took it off, but I knew the whole place was wired with cameras for security, so I obeyed Will and kept it on.

“Come on,” Michael snapped, taking my hand and pulling me.

We all ran, heading over the side of the building, down the fire escape, and back onto the ground.

People rushed past, heading toward the stage as the announcer started the show, as “Devil Inside” boomed from the speakers.

I lifted my eyes, seeing masked devils heading over the side of the building, following us.

“Go!” I shouted.

But then my eyes caught something, and I stopped, spotting Martin.

He stood at the entrance, across the food court, dressed in jeans, a black pullover, and his dark hair perfectly coiffed.

He stared at me with his hand in his pocket. A smile reaching his eyes that he didn’t give away across his lips.

My spine tingled, seeing the challenge in his gaze.

“Emmy!” Rika called. “Emmy, let’s go!”

He stared at me.

I couldn’t move.

My lungs constricted, one foot ready to retreat, and another wanting to charge over and beat him until my hands were bloody.

A cry lodged in my throat.

I can’t move.

And then, a small hand slipped inside mine, the cold skin rough with dirt and grime.

I looked down, swallowing as I saw a little girl looking up at me.

Who…?

“Let’s go,” she whispered.

Blonde hair and maybe eight or nine years old, she wore all black except for the white undershirt I saw poking out from the bottom of her sweater. A black cap on her head, and a braid hanging over her shoulder, she smiled and pulled me along. I followed, looking to Michael and Rika for an answer, but they just gaped at her, looking equally confused.

She let me go and shot ahead, dipping down and diving through the tarp covering the crawl space underneath the warehouse. “Through here!” she called.

We hesitated only a moment before following, Michael ushering us in her wake and then following us.

We crawled, digging in our hands and knees, the cold earth seeping through my jeans as the kid led the way under the floor, all of us glancing over our shoulders to see who was following us.

“You sure you know where you’re going?” Michael asked.

“I own this town,” she fired back.

He chuckled despite the rush we were in, but I had no time to wonder where the hell this kid came from, or if she was really leading us to safety.

Right now, we had no choice.

Stopping, she rose up and popped up a floorboard, all of us crawling up into the warehouse, and right into the Mad Scientist’s wing again.

As soon as we were all inside and we knew where we were at, Michael picked up the kid, threw her over his shoulder, and ran, all of us following him.

“Oh, my God, I can walk.” She raised up and held out her hands. “Dude!”

But he wouldn’t stop as we raced into the lab, no one following us as we swung open the door and dived inside the room. Michael carried the kid down into the tunnel, followed by Rika and Alex, but I paused, sensing something.

Looking back over my shoulder, through the doorway and into the chem lab, I locked eyes on a group of figures draped in white in the other room. They stood like statues, black holes for the eyes and all of them looking like they were watching me.

Something crawled on my skin, fear snaking its way through me as my feet sprouted roots and dug into the ground.

Frozen, I stared at their faces, knowing.

I just knew.

And then…one turned his head, and my heart leapt into my throat. I screamed, knowing it might not be one of them, but it could be. Shit.

I slipped into the tunnel, closed the door, and raced after the others, tripping over a rock as I kept looking over my shoulder.

I stumbled, catching myself, and rushed up to the tracks.

Micah, Rory, and Lev were in the car ahead, already strapped in, and I barely had time to catch my breath before they sped off, their rail car zooming down the track.

There were only two cars left, so hopefully that meant that everyone else had already gotten out.

They got strapped in, Michael started the car, and I looked back, hearing the door creak open back down the tunnel.

Will…

But someone grabbed me and pushed me into the seat.

“Will!” I cried, feeling the seatbelt strap onto me. “Michael, no!”

“Hurry,” Rika yelled to him, the girl in her lap. “Go!”

The car shot off, my neck jerking back, and I twisted in my seat, seeing the lights behind grow smaller and smaller.

“No!” I cried.

There was only one car left. If someone saw where we went—if that ghost wasn’t an actor and he saw where I was going—Will wouldn’t get to the Cove.

I covered my face with my hands as the wind whipped across my body.

We shouldn’t have split up.

Tears filled my eyes.

We coasted around a bend, and we must’ve gone under the river, because droplets of water hit me from above as we raced back up again, lights periodically marking our way.

Michael slowed, and I held on, seeing us approach a platform, and then he screeched to a stop, everyone ripping off their seatbelts.

“Will,” I called to them, unbuckling myself. “We left Will! Aydin was back there!”

I knew it was him in the lab.

I followed them, climbing out of the car and onto the platform.

“What if Will can’t get past him?” I asked. “We have to go back.”

Michael pulled Rika and the girl up. “Will wanted you out of there. We stick together.”

“No!”

“He won’t fail,” Rika told me, looking at me dead-on. “He won’t fail, Em. He’ll be here.”

I stilled, holding her eyes. I couldn’t not go back for him.

I couldn’t…

But the kid pulled my hand. “Come on!” she cried.

I dug in my heels, but before I could argue, Michael grabbed her and twisted her around by the shoulders. “Not so fast,” he said. “Who are you? Tell me now and hurry.”

She straightened, clamping her mouth shut.

“And why are you living here at the Cove?” he pressed.

She jerked, trying to run, but he caught her and held her tight.

I glanced down the tunnel, but I still didn’t hear any other rail cars approaching.

I’d never seen her before, but it seemed like they had.

“Athos,” she finally answered. “My name is Athos.”

Like the musketeer?

“And your last name?” Michael demanded.

“I don’t have one.”

He frowned. “You have one. You weren’t born here, kid.”

“Maybe I was beamed down to study your species.”

Alex snorted, and we watched as the little girl took Rika’s hand and backed up, hovering close to the woman and away from Michael with a scowl on her face.

He rose, scowling right back. “What?”

“I’ve seen what your species likes to do to women down at that cave on the beach,” she told him.

Rika gasped, covering her mouth, but I caught the smile underneath as Alex laughed out loud.

“You saw that?” he asked, wide-eyed.

The little girl gave Michael a once up and down. “Hmph.”

He shook his head and grabbed her, swinging her up and over his shoulder again. “Let’s go!”

“Afraid I’ll get away again?” she griped.

We ran through the dark tunnel, this one concrete with rooms and doors. Racing up the stairs, we came into an old shop, long since closed down with the Cove, and ran outside into the park with the Ferris wheel looming in the distance.

“We’ll fight our way out of here,” Michael told me as we ran, “search for my father, and take care of both him and Scott.”

Take care of?

“You good with that?” he asked me.

I breathed hard, realizing I was going to have to take Alex up on her offer to train at Kai’s dojo at some point to get in shape. “Like murder him?”

He smiled. “I was thinking an island only accessible by train.”

Blackchurch. He wanted to send my brother and his father to Blackchurch.

I grinned back. “I can live with that.”

Damon, Winter, and everyone else jetted out from behind a game booth with a couple of other masked figures—extra security, I assumed—waiting for us, and I looked back to see both Damon and Banks holding Winter’s hands as she ran with them.

“I got you, baby,” he said.

“Where’s Will?” Misha asked, looking around.

Not here, I knew that. I dug out my phone and unlocked the screen, ready to dial him, but then I noticed people ahead and slowed, seeing Martin and a team of men and women walking into the park, their eyes already on us.

Oh, no.

We all stopped as they blocked our way out, and I scanned the area again, still not finding Will among us. How did Martin get here so fast? How did he know where we were going?

“Move,” I heard Michael tell him.

We were prepared to fight our way through Aydin and Taylor, but this?

Shit.

Michael stepped forward, everyone else behind him as he confronted Martin. I joined him, refusing to hide.

Martin gazed at me. “We never had to see each other again,” he said, stepping toward me, a shoulder holster strapped around him and everyone in his ranks armed and dressed to run.

Memories washed over me, hearing almost the same words he last said to me all those years ago at the police station.

It seemed like yesterday.

He reached down and took my hand, Michael jerking and ready to pounce if he hurt me.

I clenched my teeth, the slime of his skin seeping into mine.

The eye of the storm. I remembered Aydin’s words over and over.

Martin looked at my ring. “I wasn’t invited.”

I curled my fist and gently pulled away. “No, you weren’t.”

The eye of the storm…

“They know.” I tipped my chin up. “It’s too late.”

Everyone here knew about our lie and his involvement in sending them to prison.

But he just broke into a smile and chuckled, a chill rising up my spine. “You think that scares me?” he asked. “That was small potatoes compared to the decisions I’ve made since. And I’m not the only one with shit to lose if I go down.”

What did that mean? My gaze flashed behind him. The cops? I recognized a few of them.

“These officers know us,” I said. “You think they’ll really do this? All of them?”

Hurt Michael Crist, Kai Mori, Damon Torrance, and Will Grayson, not to mention Erika Fane?

He just tsked. “They’re not officers at this hour, Emmy.”

And I looked again, taking in the weapons and street clothes, not a badge in sight.

Footfalls hit the pavement behind us, and I whipped my head around, seeing Aydin coming through the park from where we entered. He looked at us, followed by a crew of people in devil masks, his black sweater zipped up to his chin, and his hair smooth and laying over his forehead.

Fire flashed in his gaze as he blocked us in from the back, and Martin blocked us in from the front.

“And I have so much more with me,” Martin cooed and then called out. “Evans?”

I jerked back around, my eyes shooting from Martin to the figure coming through his crowd, seeing Evans Crist step forward in a three-piece navy suit, with his gray hair styled to the side.

Evans. Martin used to call him Mr. Crist, but since he was coming into power himself, it seemed he fancied himself his equal.

“Son of a bitch,” Michael bit out.

Damon chimed in from behind. “We’re ready whenever you are,” he assured Michael.

Michael nodded, still facing his father, both men the same height.

Evans gazed at his oldest son, and I couldn’t imagine what was going through Michael’s head right now.

He’d killed Trevor. Was he going to kill his father, too?

“I didn’t tell Trevor to post those videos when he found that phone,” Evans told Michael. “But he told me after he did it. He knew it would serve me if Katsu, Gabriel, and the Graysons lost credibility with some orchestrated familial troubles.” He smiled to himself. “Some of it worked in my favor, other things didn’t.”

Katsu lost his positions on two bank boards for a time, and Gabriel lost deals. But Will’s grandfather remained senator, despite the bad press.

“But then we got powerful,” Michael added.

Evans nodded. “Rika became mayor, Kai’s been revitalizing Whitehall, Damon is Rika’s heir, not to mention he’s grooming Banks for national politics…” he listed off all of his concerns. “And Will discovered Coldfield, and now controls the underground transit system between Thunder Bay and Meridian City. I mean, if you had a playbook of how to make me sweat, that would be it.” He chuckled. “I bow to you. You’ve impressed me, Michael. I wish I had you at my side.”

“But that’s not what you and I were made for,” his son replied.

Evans shook his head. “No, you’re right. But you are in over your head.”

I took in the weapons and the sheer size of Aydin’s and Martin’s crew, knowing we were outmatched. We couldn’t fight them with a sword and our fists.

This couldn’t get that far.

I met Martin’s eyes. “He influenced your career and helped you fly up a few ladders, but he’s going down,” I told him. “Save yourself.”

“He had my father murdered,” Rika pleaded, stepping in.

He wasn’t getting away with it. Unless they killed us all, Martin was on the losing side.

But then Evans started laughing, looking to Martin, a knowing look passing between them both.

My stomach knotted.

“Who do you think cut the brake lines?” Evans asked Rika. “Altered the police report? Destroyed the vehicle before it could be inspected?”

She lunged for him, but Michael pulled her back, getting into his father’s face. One of the guards shifted behind them, ready to grab for his weapon.

“I promise you,” Michael said. “I won’t tell my mother any of this after you’re gone. She’ll never have to know.”

“It’s not for you to protect me, Michael,” someone spoke up.

Slowly, we turned around, the two masked figures I didn’t recognize standing on both sides of Kai as they pulled off their masks and pushed down their hoods.

Christiane Fane stood on the left, tears filling her eyes, as Delia Crist, Michael’s mother, stood on the right, her light brown bangs hanging in her eyes.

Kai shrugged, looking apologetic. “The kids are safe,” he assured. “I couldn’t stop them. Sorry, man.”

They must’ve cornered him at his mom and dad’s house, and he snuck them past Michael.

Christiane stepped forward, not taking her eyes off of Evans as she walked straight for him, her blonde hair—like Rika’s—pulled back in a low ponytail and her frail, quiet form looking too skinny to pick up a peanut.

She stopped in front of him, both of them locking eyes, and then…she whipped her hand across his face, sending him stumbling to the side.

The crew behind them tensed, and I balled my fists, ready.

He breathed hard, blinking and looking shocked, and then stood upright again, facing her.

She slapped him again, the same cheek, but the only part of him that moved this time was his head twisting to the side.

His jaw flexed, and I didn’t even care she wasn’t screaming at him for what he did to her husband and the years of torture since. She hit him again and again, and I almost smiled.

He grunted after the fifth one, sucking in angry air through his teeth. “Get the bitch off me,” he finally growled to someone.

Martin hurried to grab her, and we stepped forward, but just as Christiane raised her hand to slap him again, Damon shoved Martin back, telling him, “Don’t touch her.” And then Will raced ahead, dived in, and caught Christiane by the wrist, stopping her.

My heart leaped. Will.

With his mask hooked onto his belt and his kind eyes cast down on Rika’s mother, he said, “I’ll tie him up later, and let you have some more fun, okay?”

She stared up at him, almost looking lost for a moment, but then she broke into a smile.

She turned around, the tears streaming down her face as she looked at the ground, and even though Damon, Michael, and I had so many problems with the people who raised us, not all of the parents were enemies.

Damon put his finger under her chin and pushed, forcing her to lift her eyes up.

“Chin up,” he bit out. “And stop being a mouse, You’re my mother, for Christ’s sake.”

He faced forward, but she gazed up at him, love and longing in her eyes as he took her hand and led her back to the group.

Depositing her next to Mrs. Crist, Michael’s mother took her other hand, standing in solidarity.

Evans spit out blood and then stood up straight, fixing his tie and drawing in a deep breath. “That was always the real problem with you boys,” Evans said. “No matter how smart you could be or how many occasions you proved yourselves shrewd and clever players, you ultimately always resorted to violence.” He shifted his gaze from Michael to Will, Will’s threat to tie him up still hanging in the air. “You never could keep your attention focused on the long game, could you? Friends and girls were more important, and the immediate gratification was what mattered most, when you should’ve always realized that you could trust no one. Crists don’t build.” He looked to Michael. “We win.”

And they were going to win, too. We were vastly outnumbered. Evans and Martin could ship us all to Blackchurch tonight.

“Take your grandfather, for example,” he told Will. “No grudges, because we’re not friends. We gain more this way. Together, we bought time to delay your resort project.”

“His grandfather?” Kai repeated.

And just then, a puff of smoke drifted into the air, and we all looked through the cops to see Senator Grayson pushing off a ticket booth and strolling forward as he smoked a cigar.

I locked my jaw.

He wore a black, three-piece suit with a light blue shirt and the gold chain of a pocket watch draped over his vest.

I’d actually never seen him in real life before, which wasn’t a feat, since he lived in D.C. almost around the clock for the past twenty years.

But I recognized him immediately.

He stopped behind Evans, drawing a puff off his cigar again, his cool expression unfazed.

Shit. I glanced to Will at my side, the stoic look on his face making me more nervous. If William Grayson, Sr. was here, in person, this was bad.

We were all going to Blackchurch.

Or worse.

“You two?” Michael asked, realization dawning.

“Old timers…” Damon stepped forward. “You’ll be dead before we will. Step down with dignity.”

“Calm down,” Kai grit out.

“Fuck calm,” he barked. “I got rid of my parents, now they both do their part. Step up and deal with this, or else I’m ready to go Children of the Corn on this town.”

I walked toward Senator Grayson a few steps. “You put Will in Blackchurch?”

“Mmm…”

My stomach coiled tightly as Evans grinned. I could see where Michael got his smile.

They were a team? They got rid of Will together?

“You bastards,” Michael said.

Evans glanced over his shoulder at the senator. “You’ve been called worse.”

“I have,” he joked.

“I’m glad you came to me when you did,” Evans said, turning back around, but still speaking to Senator Grayson. “I’m glad we could help each other.”

“Me, too,” Mr. Grayson said. “I learned a great deal.”

“He’s your grandson,” I argued. “Why?”

The senator looked past me to Will. “He knows why.”

I felt Will approach my side, he and his grandfather locked in a stare. “Because I liked my parties,” Will said.

Mr. Grayson nodded. “You lack moderation, yes.”

“And because I was going nowhere.”

“And quite fast, too.”

Will moved toward his grandfather slowly, the other man walking to meet him.

“Because I needed time to think,” Will guessed.

“I hope you got it.”

“And because I’m weak.”

“As a kitten,” the senator teased.

Will cocked his head, and Mr. Grayson rolled his eyes. “A puppy.”

Will stared at him.

“Okay, a small dog,” the senator offered, placating his grandson.

I studied them, their banter almost warm. What was going on?

“Because I’m wild,” Will cooed.

And Senator Grayson smiled, approaching his grandson. “Oh, beyond belief.”

“And because I was an embarrassment.”

Mr. Grayson peered at Will, his eyes thinning in skepticism. “Never,” he answered.

I exhaled. “Then why did you put him in Blackchurch?”

For the fucking money? For the resort? To trip up Graymor Cristane? Why?

Senator Grayson smiled, looking lovingly at his grandson. “Because he asked me to,” he said.

And Will broke out into a chuckle, both of them with the same bright green eyes as they dove in and embraced each other, laughing and smiling as they hugged.

My stomach dropped. What?

“What the hell?” Damon snapped.

Evans’s face fell, watching the two men.

Will asked him to send him to Blackchurch? What?

“Missed you,” Will said to his grandpa.

Senator Grayson held Will’s face, taking him in after such a long time apart. “Missed you, too, kid.”


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