The can exploded in his fingers, followed by the echoing bang of a gunshot. All the adults, and even some kids, froze as blood splattered the rock wall. Keys didn’t move a muscle, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He’d debated on wearing sunglasses and a hat or a hoodie, but the Riley brothers convinced him not to, saying he’d probably get arrested or beaten up by helicopter moms if he showed up to a playground looking like a pedophile on the prowl.
Several heartbeats passed before a series of echoes followed the first. Keys reached into his pocket and hit the button that ignited the various blasting caps they had buried in the surrounding grass, under benches, or on the plastic of the equipment as Goose shot blanks.
Grabbing the can, Keys joined the panicked adults and kids scattering for safety. One of the fears Keys had with his plan was someone getting hurt in the stampede. He’d never forgive himselfif a kid got hurt, all so he could plant Oscar’s blood and Rose’s hat.
As Keys had told Rose, she’d hidden herself too well. They had to make her sudden re-appearance believable. Something tragic enough not to raise eyebrows, while also leaving behind the appropriate amount of evidence that facts couldn’t be disputed.
Tyson Kennedy might not come out of hiding for Rose, a woman he clearly hadn’t loved and was planning on turning into one of his sex workers. Even knowing she’d been the one to turn him in might not be enough for him, given the cushy deal he’d made himself.
But for his son?
Keys had every reason to believe that that would make him crawl out of the hole he’d dug for himself.
“I’m clear,” came over the earwig.
Keys let out a sigh of relief. “Good. Come pick me up. I need to get in front of the social media posts.”
* * *
Sixteen Days to Present
“What’s up with you?”
Keys looked up from his computer at Cage, his heart racing in his chest as he tried to frantically recall where in the building Rose and Oscar were. “Huh?”
“This is the fourth time this week you’ve cancelled on us. What’s going on?” his club brother asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Nothing. I’m fine. Just busy.” Though his eyes didn’t leave Cage, his fingers typed a command into his keyboard.
WiseWave620: MC in building. Stay put.
Cage’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not buying it.” He stepped forward and put his fists down on the wood of Keys’ desk. Which put him nearly eye to eye with Keys. “Talk, kid.”
Keys felt a cold sweat coat his skin. “Nothing, really. Just pissed at myself for losing that deal, I guess. I’m fine. Honest, Cage. I think I just need to get some sleep.”
“You’re a shit liar, kid.”
Keys’ cheeks flamed, but he kept his mouth shut.
Cage stood up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you trust me?”
“It has nothing to do with trust!” Keys insisted, almost frantically. He never wanted anyone in his club to think he didn’t trust them.
“Then tell me what’s going on.”
Keys lowered his gaze to his keyboard. Rose and Oscar were finally here in Mount Grove—hell, they were in his building—and yet he barely saw them. He wanted to give them space, time to adjust…and maybe there was a part of him that wantedRoseto come to him. Plus, there was keeping an eye on what they’d staged in Illinois. Reports of the park shooting had remained regional because it was reported that there were no deaths, minor injuries, and minimal structural damage. But Oscar’s blood was still put in the system, as was Rose’s DNA.
Now they just had to wait for the results to be processed to see what roaches stuck their heads up. If none did, which Keys highly doubted but had considered, then Rose could come out of hiding with no issues. Didn’t mean there had to be a large banner and massive celebration, but she could live her life without the constant fear of someone using Oscar against her.
A part of Keys wanted to push the results through faster, hating the waiting part of the plan, but the results had to be organic. And unlike in the movies, DNA and crime scenes aren’t actually processed that quickly. Pissed Keys off to no end, because he could havefakedthe entire thing, including reports,witness statements, footage,andthe forensics in a matter of days. But if there was anyone working for the roaches with his and Rose’s computer skills, they would pick up on the trail. So as organic as possible was, unfortunately, the way to go.
It was just so fuckingboringwaiting on the slow wheels of justice to churn.
Glancing up, Keys realized that Cage was still in his computer lab, still staring down at him. Shit, his mind had wandered again. And from the expression Cage was giving him, his brother wasn’t going away anytime soon.
“I, um…” Keys struggled with something to say. Fuck, why did he have to be such a shit liar? “I met a girl. A woman,” he hastily corrected.
Cage’s expression went from suspicious to ecstatic. “Yeah? Is it Poison’s tech?”
