Page 93 of Saving Wyatt

He shook his head and sighed. “And how do you think I keep the lights on? How am I supposed to support my family? You think it’s easy?”

“Your family are all adults with their own jobs, and you are crazy if you think I’m going to have any sympathy for you getting into bed with the devil.”

This was preposterous. Hank Mitchell and his family were something akin to a founding family in Mayberry, coming from a long line of police officers and community workers who’d helped build this place up into the island it was today. To think Hank desecrated that history with his connections and accomplices was nothing short of blasphemy.

“What about Dakota? Is he part of your little mafia or is he ignorant to his father’s side gig?”

Hank rolled his eyes. “He’s far too good to get involved in this. I, on the other hand, am not so conscientious.”

I shelved that information for later and focused on the man of the hour.

“So what’s the endgame here, Hank? Why did you bring me here?”

“Oh, I didn’t.” He laughed. “The big guy did.”

“Wilson,” I said.

“Did you have to cause a scene? He was happy to let you run your little group of pathetic retired heroes and no one needed to get hurt. But you had to ruin it.”

I spat in front of him, making Hank stand up and take a step back. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t willing to let him destroy everyone’s lives while he runs this island. That’s not me.”

Hank sighed. “Well then, my friend, I’m afraid you deserve what’s coming,” Hank said, and I braced myself for a punch, but he didn’t touch me.

No.

He simply stepped to the side as another tall man walked up to me, and this time my eyesight was much better to know it was Salieri. Wilson. The mayor. The devil.

He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, turning from the goody two-shoes mayor into a threat.

“I don’t appreciate people coming to my office and shouting at me. Especially your kind,” he said.

Gone was the composed and well-mannered front he put on in his daily life as a philanthropist and mayor. This was a sinister man with a bone to pick.

“My kind?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

What did he know? What was he talking about? Did he know about me? Did he know about Ari?

My heart started racing, and he put me out of my misery by landing his first punch straight at my nose.

“Heroes,” he snarled.

Pain ruptured through my head. Hot blood poured from my nose, wetting my moustache, lips, and beard, but I held strong. I’d been through worse. I could put up with more. I had to.

“You think you can save everyone, but you’re always getting someone killed,” he continued, and his foot connected with my stomach.

For a moment, I froze, unable to breathe or function. When the moment was gone, I coughed. I inhaled. Nothing worked.

“You think I wanted to kill Mr. Rogers? He did nothing to me. He never hurt me. But you and your stupid men—” He punched me on the side of the face and the top part of my body turned sideways, as much as it could considering how tightly I was bound.

Before I did anything else, I straightened myself so I was facing him and gritted my teeth through the pain.

“—wouldn’t drop it. You kept stalking my guys. Stalking me. I thought a saint like Wyatt Goodman would honor his word, but no. You wouldn’t fucking drop it.” His next punch found me in the ear, and everything started ringing. I could barely hear Wilson anymore. “You’d think with a murder pinned on you you’d be more careful, but even that didn’t work. You are a pest, Goodman. You and your little faggy group are a pest, and I’m going to get rid of you. One. By. One.” Each word was accompanied by another blow. And another. And another, until I could taste copper in my mouth.

“You can try,” I groaned. “But you’ll never get rid of all of us,” I said. “Someone else will come and take down your cells, and your drug mules, and your trafficking rings. You’re a nobody, Wilson. Or should I call you Raymond Salieri? You never actually told me? Which came first? Wilson or Salieri?”

“My identities don’t matter to you, Goodman,” he said. “And if you think your men can take me and my organization down, you must be crazy as well as an idiot.”

I glared at the man beloved by an entire island, and all I could do was breathe in and out and tap my foot on the ground.