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“You’re right, there is a deeper connection between the three of us. Remi thinks we all met recently. Which, in part, is true,” Jasper starts off, running a hand through his hair. “But we actually came together the first day the hit was put out on her, and beyond that, we know of each other by our reputations.”
Grayson’s brows furrow together. “Okay…”
Jasper hates being cut off and shoots him a glare, even though he paused as if he was allowing time for a response. “Cole and I didn’t know anything about Remi until the hit came out. And even then the only thing we knew was what was provided in the hit order and what a quick google search provided. I’m sure Cole knew a bit more than me with his hacker skills, but at that point we didn’t have much time to gather further information.”
As Jasper gives the details of how we met, I lean against the wall, crossing my arms, and wait for him to finish. Why we’re going through all of this right now when we need to get to our woman is beyond me. We’re only allowing time for the Don to find out we’ve escaped our bindings and giving up precious time to get out of here.
Cole moves to the door, working on unlocking it. He doesn’t give a shit about what Jasper’s saying, he only cares about getting to Remi. She’s the only thing I’ve ever seen him actually care about. At least he shares the same priorities with me.
“Hold up a fucking second, are you trying to tell me you were one of the hitmen after her?” Grayson interjects, horror written all over his face as he takes a step back, trying to put space between us. His gaze turns to me, searching for an explanation as to why I’m not as appalled.
“That’s exactly what he’s saying,” Cole answers with a wry grin on his face.
Grayson’s jaw drops and I’m sure his thoughts go to the conversation we had in Cole’s living room when the subject was brought up that the stalker could be one of the hitmen. His eyes flick between each of us as he takes slow, measured steps backward. He jumps when he runs into the wall, stopping his movements. It’s then his gaze lands on me.
“How are you okay with this?” he demands, scathing disbelief dripping from every word. The wide-eyed shock is replaced with fury, and I can’t help but think Cole told him so bluntly simply so he could enjoy the reaction.
Heat travels up my neck as my anger grows with his distrust. How could he question my need to keep her safe? By now he should know the others wouldn’t hurt her either. They’re overly possessive when it comes to her. “Okay with what exactly?” I seethe, taking a step toward him. “The fact that they’ve done nothing but protect her?”
He takes a step, closing the distance between us. I’m a little surprised he isn’t backing down. The preppy boy toy sure has changed quickly. “How can you trust that they aren’t biding their time?” he accuses.
“Who’s being a fucking idiot now?” Cole growls from right behind Grayson. His hands land on Grayson’s shoulders and he leans forward to whisper in his ear menacingly. “I’d choose your next words carefully.”
Fucking hell. Cole is itching to murder someone. He clearly isn’t handling the separation from Remi well. I quickly interject before things can get even more heated. “I trust them because the moment they watched her murder that scum who tried to rape her, they became obsessed with learning more about her. I wouldn’t have been able to keep her alive if it wasn’t for their help. If they wanted to kill her, they would have done it already.”
Grayson crosses his arms and it’s clear we’re all riding a tightrope with Remi not being here to bridge the gap. Maybe by the time we get to her, we’ll figure out how to form our own bonds without her. “Let’s get the fuck out of here and find a phone so we can get back to her,” he mumbles.
“I thought it was already covered that we couldn’t track her through her phone,” Jasper unhelpfully interjects.
“She might not have her phone, but she never takes off the necklace I gave her,” Grayson replies with a smug as fuck smile.
Cole eyes him with new interest while Jasper asks, “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Because I put a tracker in it,” Grayson responds smoothly.
“Fucking brilliant,” Cole exclaims, respect in his gaze as he studies Grayson. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Chapter 12
Raven
There was only the smallest hint of guilt as I walked away from Grayson. It didn’t last long though. The need to put distance between myself and the men who betrayed me was more important. If Vander knows what’s good for himself, he’ll protect Grayson with his life. Or there’ll be hell to pay.
I very quickly latched onto the idea of escaping my life for a short time, leaving behind all the betrayals weighing me down. My brother offered me the perfect distraction, leading me from the club where our father keeps his office, to a flashy sports car, opening the passenger side for me like a true gentleman.
Before I know it, we’re driving into an almost empty parking lot. There isn’t much to note about the building aside from its large size, and the fact that we drove past so many bars and other clubs on the same strip. In the parking lot next door there’s a neon sign flashing with a woman’s form moving to different positions around a pole. “Strip club, really?” I tease him. “Do you seriously think this is an appropriate place to bring your sister?”
His cheeks turn pink but he gives me a slightly embarrassed smile and a shrug of the shoulders. “That would be a bit cliché, don’t you think?” he asks. Before I can answer, he raises his eyebrows in a taunting wiggle. “The strip club is actually PG compared to what I’m about to show you. And now that you mention it, this will be awkward as hell.” He rubs at the back of his neck before climbing from the car.
His hands hide in his front pockets, shoulders slumping for a moment, and I hear him murmur under his breath, “I sure hope she doesn’t judge me for this.” Right when he takes a few steps away his phone rings, and he lets out a curse. “Hold on a minute, Sorella, I need to take this,“ he announces before answering it.
Instead of waiting for him to finish with his call, I make my way toward the front of the club, which is around the corner from where we parked. Two burly men stand on either side of the door, their arms crossed and intimidating scowls pulling at their lips. I barely come into view before their attention turns to me. Good to know my brother hires help that’s actually competent at their jobs.
They don’t move, aside from their eyes, which watch me carefully as I strut toward them. “Membership card,” the one on the left asks when I’m standing in front of them.
“Don’t have one,” I quip, placing my hand on my hip so it’s closer to the gun tucked in the back of my pants. Something tells me there could be trouble since they have to be a part of the mafia.
“Turn around then, lady. No membership, no entry,” the other man replies, pointing to a sign affixed to the side of the building.
