“I canna tell you anything other than they’ll be fine where they’re going,” he says.
“That’s not an answer!”
“That’s all you’ll be getting,” he shrugs, going back to his work.
The cloudy skies clear enough for the weak afternoon sun to shine on the water as another boat pulls into the harbor. It’s enormous, but it’s probably just a starter yacht for assholes like these.
Four men disembark, all looking like accountants, aside from the one in the middle who looks like he eats children for breakfast and shoots kittens to relax. He’s silver-haired, with an expensive suit and a vicious slash for a mouth. As he’s climbing the steps with his entourage, he looks up and I step back from the curtain. I don’t know who he is, but I know I want nothing to do with him.
My mother, who was a huge Stephen King fan, always swore I had “the shine” when I was little because I’d successfully predicted a thing or two. She used to joke that it was a shame they couldn’t take me to Atlantic City and make a million at Blackjack. Even then, I knew people like us never “got lucky.” Not like that, anyway.
Still, I don’t have to be psychic to know that man radiates malice, and the gut-twisting, throat-clenching feeling I have is telling me to keep the hell away from him. Wallace comes up behind me, looking over my shoulder, and he’s frowning, too.
“Who isthat?”
“The father of two of the Lords,” he says, stone-faced.
A terrible thought hits me. “He wouldn’t happen to be Red Leather Mask’s dad?”
“He is.”
“Does this mean they already know about him being…” I’m floundering. Can I say the words? “Is this suite bugged?”
I get a half smile from him. “No. I’ve found surveillance devices in the past. After I taught them a lesson, they’ve never tried again.” He holds up something that looks like a TV remote. “I still run a sweep every time I enter the suite.”
“Does this mean they already know that Red Leather- for fuck’s sake, what’s his name? Does this mean they know?”
I don’t realize that I’ve been pacing and waving my hands until he grabs them, pressing my palms together.
“Take a breath, aye?” he orders, and I do, holding it for a moment. “They dinna know yet. They’d notify the rest of us first if Deacon was found.”
“Oh, good.” I wheeze gratefully.
“Though as soon as they realize he’s missing, they’ll raise the alarm,” he continues, destroying my sliver of calm. “It won’t take them long to find him.”
“And his father being here, that’s going to make everything extra bad, isn’t it?” I don’t know why I’m whispering, he said the room’s not bugged. It seems too scary to say it out loud, like it solidifies that what happened is real. I’d almost managed to forget Red Leath- Deacon’s blank stare and his head twisted at that unnatural angle.
“Grayson is worse than his sons, which is one hell of an accomplishment,” he says grimly. “You’re going to stay out of sight while he’s here.”
“For once, I am in complete agreement,” I say fervently.
Chapter Seven
In which Kai discovers that manipulating someone else into finding the person he killed is exhausting.
Kai / “Wallace…”
Well, that’s some shite timing right there.
What the feck is Grayson doing here? The island is the Lord's territory; parents either dinna want to know what happens here or have no interest.
Locking my paperwork in the desk drawer, I stretch, enjoying the creak of muscle and joints. And the fact that Luna can’t take her eyes off me.
Someone pounds on the door.Right on time,I think.
“Wallace! Pull your dick out of the girl and open the door.” It’s Marcus.
“Go into the bathroom,” I tell Luna, “lock the door until I come get you.” She nods, behaving for once.
