a killer lay
a week later
Fallon
It seemed simple enough—kill Evander Foley.
The thought had crossed my mind countless times. I'd even pictured myself going to his house, gun in hand, but the reality always slammed back: I wouldn't make it out alive. He knew I was after him—that I wanted payback for what he'd done. Any friendly overture would be met with cold calculation—a trap. How to breach his fortress of security had become an all-consuming puzzle, a week-long mental block.
"How's it going?" Brady asked, refilling my coffee.
"Shit," I groaned, banging my forehead lightly against the kitchen table. "Nothing. Not a single decent idea."
"Anything more on the black Lexus?"
My head snapped up. I stared at him, caught. How could I explain I'd been out for drinks with the guy? I didn't know if I could trust him, but when he smiled… all my suspicions seemed to melt away. Was I losing my edge? I shook my head, forcing myself to meet Brady's concerned gaze.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, confusion etched on his face. "You're not thinking of confronting him, are you?"
I saw the worry in his eyes, and a decision bloomed. It was a risk, but maybe it was time to let someone in. When I didn't answer, he gave me a searching look. I stalled, sipping my spiked coffee. Brady always knew when I was holding back.
"Fallon, what the hell did you do?" He growled, fists clenched but voice low, keeping it from Julian.
"Nothing, Brady. I just told him to get lost…" My words trailed off, hoping he'd drop it. But he didn't.
"And?" He waited, tapping his foot, and I mimicked the motion, tapping my pinky against my thigh seven times.
"...and I put a tracker on his car and went to his house," I finally admitted, a small wave of relief washing over me. But he knew there was more.
"Please tell me you didn't sleep with him."
I glared. "No, I didn't sleep with him,asshole."
Brady relaxed slightly, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn't completely convinced. "Fine," he muttered, "but next time, just tell me what you're planning before you go do something fucking stupid."
I nodded, the realization hitting me: I should have confided in him from the start. In the silence, guilt gnawed at me. I'd dragged Brady into my mess. But I also knew I couldn't have handled War's harassment alone.
"Thanks for having my back, Brady," I said, finally.
He gave me a half-smile, ruffling my hair. "That's what brothers are for, Fallon. Just promise me you won't pull another stunt like that."
I nodded, relief flooding through me. With Brady, I knew I could face anything. Taking another sip of coffee, I felt a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support.
"Look, maybe we should work together on this. Two heads are better than one, right?" His eyes widened, and then a small smile crept onto his face.
"I'm in," Brady said, jaw tight. "Let's take that son of a bitch down."
And just like that, the plan began to crystallize. It was risky, but with Brady's confidence bolstering me, I finally felt like I had a shot at revenge. I quickly finished my coffee, stood up, and prepared to put our plan into action.
Evander Foley had no idea what was coming. And this time, I was determined to survive.
As I headed upstairs, Julian stopped me. His bright green eyes always snagged me, pulling me in. I’d get lost in them, seeing so many memories.
“Fallon, are you busy?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts… again, which was fine. Thinking about that was too painful.
“Uncle Hitch is coming over, but no, I'm free, kiddo. What's up?” I asked, following him up the stairs, my arms full.
“I wanted you to go Christmas tree shopping with us tonight.” He smiled, patiently waiting for my answer—damn, he was persistent, reminding me so much of someone else I knew.
