Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Erin
I’m about to do something I wish I didn't have to, but I think it's for the best. I’m going to sneak around a bit to fix things, even if it gets me into trouble with a broad-shouldered mafia man with a spanking hand.
I’m ready to end this so Gregory and Lucian can have the reunion they deserve—safe and sound. With my past behind us and Gregory still protected from the world that Lucian worked so hard to shield him from.
Today I must pivot. Again. I hope I’m doing the right thing.
It starts with convincing Lucian that he’d be capable of showering alone for once, so I can clean the kitchen.
I need a stolen moment with Lucian’s unlocked burner phone.
And a call to Bayne.
Bayne called Gregory and brought him here without asking Lucian, so maybe he’ll bend the rules for me. He’s apprehensive at first, but when I explain my plan, he’s game.
Then, I grab my burner phone and call Mary. I ask for her help. She’s scared, but eager. I connect Bayne and Mary so they can hash out the logistics.
Then I go to the fridge.
Funny, the random things you can buy on the streets of New York when you have a little extra cash. I stare down at the chilled syringe as I slide it into my purse, nestled by my knife.
Everyone has an Achilles heel. Mine is Lucian.
Caleb’s is insulin. Drinking too much can be dangerous for people with diabetes. He knows that, but he drinks like a Scot, anyway.
Too much alcohol followed by a heavy insulin injection? It can cause his blood sugar to drop dangerously low for hours—enough to trigger seizures, brain damage, or even death.
If the syringe I brought all the way from New York doesn’t kill Caleb, at least it can incapacitate him long enough for me to finish him off with the knife.
I’m not naive enough to think I’m a killer, but I hope that in that moment when I need all my bravery and anger to come together, that I can be fueled by vengeance to make me strong enough to end him.
Bayne says that I’m only there to lure Caleb. That the Kings will take it from there.
But I’ll bring the syringe and the knife, just in case.
Then I’ll beg Lucian for forgiveness, and he, Gregory, and I will hang out in peace. Get to know one another.
Later, I say I have a headache, and go to the room. Lucian and Gregory are chatting in the living room. I slip out the window into Bayne’s waiting arms.
Now, I sit in the back of the van, heart pounding like I’ve already been caught.
Everything about this is wrong. The dress I packed, the sexy black one Lucian bought me from Posh. The smoky eyeliner. The red lipstick.
I should be wearing this on a date with Lucian, his arm protectively wrapped around my waist. I hate lying and hiding things from him, my stomach clenching with guilt, but this was my plan, and I’m sticking with it.
My dark hair slicked back into some twisted version of a femme fatale—the way Caleb liked it best—when inside I’m a shaking girl with too much to lose.
“You okay?” Bayne asks from the front seat, voice thick with his Shetland accent. He’s got a smirk that belongs in a fight club and a knife on his hip that makes me believe he’s used it more than once.
I nod.
Lie.
He glances at me through the rearview mirror. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”
“Lucian’s not going to be happy.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
He chuckles. “He already gave me an earful on the phone. Telling me he’s going to kick my ass for bringing Gregory out. Now, when he comes at me for sneaking you out? I’ll be lucky if I live.”
“I’m the one he should be mad at. Don’t let him give you a hard time.”
He laughs again.
I launch into a monologue of thoughts, “I’m sorry I have to involve you in this. You’ve already done so much for me. But I believe I can coax Caleb out.” Caleb doesn’t trust strangers, but he’ll come for me. He always has, hasn’t he? I cringe with disgust.
Bayne says, “All you are allowed to do is get him alone. We’ll be watching and we’ll be ready.”
“Then we can end this tonight. And Gregory won’t be exposed to everything Lucian was protecting him from,” I finally take a breath. “Plus, your men can go home. I’m sure they’re tired of babysitting me.”
“We Kings are just fine. Who doesn’t like a little vacation?” He gives me a serious look in the review. “But you stick to the plan. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Of course.” Still, I clutch my purse close. Just in case I get to use the insulin. Or the knife.
We park near the club where Mary told me Caleb’s runners have been seen—an old industrial warehouse turned into a “private lounge.” It’s the kind of place where no one asks questions and where girls disappear.
Innocent, beautiful girls like Gretchen.
Bayne hands me an earpiece. “Stay sharp. If you see him, give us the signal.”
“What’s the signal?”
“You screaming?”
“Helpful,” I mutter.
“Joking. Anything. We’ll know.”
I take the earpiece gratefully. “Thanks. And thanks again for agreeing to this.”
“I understand the need to take care of your family.”
“Thanks,” I say one last time.
My fingers shake as I step out of the van, heels clicking on the wet pavement. The wind is sharper than when we left, and the sky is heavy with storm clouds. The alley smells like grease, beer, and incoming rain.
I’m leaning against the damp brick wall outside the bar, shivering in a skin-tight black dress that I never would’ve worn before Lucian. It hugs me like a second skin, and the slit up the thigh makes me feel naked in the cold.
I wear it anyway.
I’m bait tonight.
And bait has to be tempting.
The back door to the bar swings open behind me, a flash of light and music spilling out before slamming shut again. But no one comes outside.
I glance over my shoulder.
Nothing.
No movement. No shadow. Just the empty stretch of cobblestone street and flickering lamplight. A car passes slowly, headlights sweeping across the alley, and I step deeper into the shadows.
I can feel them watching.
The Kings.
Somewhere on the rooftops or crouched in shadows. Bayne wouldn’t let me walk into this alone. Not completely. But it still feels like I’m the only one exposed. My nerves are strung tight. My skin is electric.
I take a breath. One more.
And then the back door opens again.
This time, it’s her.
Mary.
Her mascara is smudged. Her jaw is tight. But she gives me a slight nod as she walks past, barely slowing down.
That’s my cue.
A doorman eyes me as I approach, a flash of interest in his gaze before his expression flattens. I flash him a smile and slip inside.
The club is loud. Dark. Smoke coils through the beams of colored light, cutting across the room. A low thrum of bass pulses through my bones as bodies move like liquid, drowning the air in sweat and tension.
I scan the room.
Then I see him.
Not Caleb.
Someone worse.
Caleb’s father is from Glasgow and is supposed to be there now. He’s one of the leaders of the Hoax. An angry ginger whose name literally means, ‘red king.’
Rory.
My stomach flips. This was not a part of the plan. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Last time I saw on my social media stalking, he was in Glasgow.
It never crossed my mind that he would be here.
We were going to get Caleb, kill him. Make it fast, make it clean, and leave the Hoax wondering who took him out.
I’d be the last suspect on their list.
Now that Rory has seen me, killing Caleb tonight is out of the question. He’ll know it was me, and he’ll know I had the Kings’ aid. It’ll start a war.
The Kings did not agree to that. And I wouldn’t ask it of them.
What do I do? I can’t just walk away. I’ve dragged Bayne and his men out here for this. We have Caleb cornered. And if we don’t do something tonight, I’m not the only civilian at risk.
I’ve got Gregory to think of now, too.
I remember Cass on the floor, the blood, the pain, and I know—I never want Lucian to feel the agony of seeing his sibling hurt, especially not after everything he’s done to protect his brother.
I need to think. Fast.
Rory’s leaning back in a chair near the back, a girl half his age on his lap and another perched on the table. His knuckles are bruised. There’s a jagged scar running down his cheek now. He looks meaner. Hungrier.
His eyes land on me.
And his grin spreads.
“Well, well,” he drawls, standing slowly and pushing the girl aside. “If it isn’t the pretty little sister.”
I don’t flinch.
I walk straight toward him.
“You know who I’m looking for.”
Rory chuckles, eyes glittering as he strokes his busy red beard. “He’ll be here.”
“Tell him I want a word.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he gives a gruff, condescending laugh.
I turn away.
I walk toward the bar, my gorgeous, costly heels steady despite the dread twisting in my gut. The shoes were another gift from Lucian. It feels disloyal to wear them when I’m going against everything he wanted from me, but I can’t think about that now.
Act like you belong.
I order a vodka tonic. Force a smile at the bartender. God, I’m terrible at trying to be sexy.
I don’t think about how I marched into Lucian’s apartment that night, ready to sell him my virginity and take his soul along with his money.
Instead, for a much-needed boost of confidence, I think about all those words Lucian heats my ears with, the ones that make my skin flush, dark whispers about how beautiful I am, how ‘god damn gorgeous,’ he thinks I am.
I remember who I’m doing this for.
I lean against the rail just enough to give any man watching a full view of the line of my legs, the bare strip of skin leading to my pushed-up breasts.
God, Cass would laugh if she heard me think I had ‘ample cleavage,’ and then come back with some biting comment about how I’m barely a C cup even with the million-dollar bra my rich boyfriend bought me.
I hold the small black leather purse tight at my side and think of her.
Of Ryan.
Of vengeance.
Lucian would kill me if he saw me like this.
Actually, no.
He’d kill them for leering at me like they are.
I try not to think of the things he’s going to do to me when he finds out about tonight.
Instead, I plot. We can’t kill Caleb without starting a war. I told his father I needed a word with him.
I need to make that word count.
I may not leave with blood.
But I can leave with power.
I tuck my chin against my chest and update Bayne, whispering to him the new plan. He agrees. Minutes pass. My nerves heighten. Bayne checks back in on the earpiece.
“No sign yet.”
Then I feel it. That tightening in my chest. The prickling on the back of my neck. The heavy silence behind the sound. Like the room is holding its breath, waiting.
I catch a flash of movement in the corner.
A man steps into the doorway.
Tall.
Black leather coat.
The shape of his shoulders…
My heart lurches into my throat.
It’s him.
Caleb.
He watches me for a beat, then disappears into the shadows of the hall.
I finish my drink and follow.