I feel fear. The fear of failing her. Of losing her.
Of becoming the kind of man who burns down the world and still can’t protect the one thing he loves.
Victoria presses her lips to my cheek. “You’re not alone,” she whispers. “I’ll always be by your side.”
I hold her tighter under the water, pretending everything will be alright for her sake, but in my head, where the monster lives, a new promise forms . . .
I will find the network.
I will tear it apart.
I will kill them all.
THE PRESENT
66
Lorenzo
Thirteen Years Later. . .
The phone vibrates again.I don’t look at it yet, but when I finally do glance down, the name on the screen tightens something in my chest.
Jaxson Price.
I answer without a greeting. “If this is about the servers being down, I already told you in the group chat that I don’t care. It’s not my problem.”
Jax’s voice laughs through the line. “You’re an asshole, but you will want to hear this.”
“Aw, look at you, Jax. You finally learned to flirt. Lay it on me.”
“You might want to sit down . . . I found him.”
The room goes very quiet. I swear I stop breathing because I don’t need him to tell me who he’s talking about. I’ve waited for this call for years.
I lean forward in my chair. “Say that again.”
Jax exhales, like he’s been holding it in for years. “The last name. The guy who went dark after you started carving up his buddies. He resurfaced three weeks ago under a different name. But I found him.”
My throat tightens. “Where?”
“He’s in Cape May. Waterfront rental. Cash paid upfront. He’s alone. And before you ask, I’m sure it’s him. I double- and triple-checked.”
I close my eyes.
Forty-two.
That’s how many names were on the list. Forty-two people were gunning to end my wife’s life.
Forty-one are gone.
Jax keeps talking, words tumbling now. “I know you said not to ask, and I didn’t, but—Lorenzo—are you ever going to tell me what this was all for? I’ve been scrubbing blood off your digital footprint for years. You don’t do this kind of cleanup for business. You do it for—”
“For survival,” I cut in. Silence. Then, softer, I say, “Soon.”
I hang up before he can push. I’ve been friends with the man for years. He’s helped us all out of so many tight binds, I don’t know why I don’t tell him the truth. I can trust him. I can trust all my friends . . .
Yet . . .
