Chapter 72
T he whole day passed, and while I felt somewhat at peace with what had happened with Layla, there was still just enough confusion in my head that I couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous with how everything was playing out right now.
That Layla had said about the exact same thing that Morgan had had could not have been a coincidence—nor was the fact that she had not actually left for a job interview.
No matter how she phrased it, there was no way that she had actually gone out for a job interview. She was… well, as crazy as it sounded…
Was she going to see Morgan?
But for what?
Part of me said that it was, once again, to fuck me over. If she’d done it once, she could do it again.
But I’d seen her eyes. I’d seen how she looked at me during that last round of sex and how happy she looked and sounded when she left. She was manipulated; she was not a sociopath. She would not have pulled the same stunt on me twice.
So if so, did that mean that Morgan was… actually in my corner?
Just what in the actual fuck was going on these days?
No matter how much I played it out in my head, it made no sense. Something had to give, but I just had no clue what. Layla, with her pattern of behavior… short or long term? Or Morgan, with his sudden betrayal… except maybe he’d had a change of heart?
It made about as much sense as anything else that had happened over the last couple of months, which was to say very little.
An entire day passed by in which nothing of note happened.
A bit too nervous to have something happen to me, I just remained in Layla’s apartment, contemplating everything and understanding very little.
I watched the sun hit the high point in the sky, watched the tourists go by, and watched the sun then dip below the buildings—still providing the illumination of the night sky, but not quite announcing sunset.
And then the sun actually set, and Layla had not yet returned.
Well, it didn’t make much sense for her to abandon me in her own apartment.
It was unlikely that she had just walked out, never to be seen again.
And yet, how could I rule anything out? That possibility…
her uncle was Craig Taylor, wealthy business owner; who was to say that they hadn’t sold or gotten rid of the place in secret, leaving me to be caught as a squatter?
Then I heard the elevator doors open outside the hallway and footsteps approach the door. They sounded like heels, which made me feel reassured that I wasn’t about to get ambushed by one of Edwin’s goons, but…
Not sure why I succumbed to sleeping with Layla. I swore not to do it until I was done with Edwin, and…
Old patterns repeat themselves. Old habits die hard. I can’t shake it. Layla will probably have figured something out in the time she was out and kick me out.
I deserve it. For all the fuckups I make…
A key unlocked the door, and in stepped Layla.
With a giant grin on her face.
“Hey, what’s up?” I said.
“You look nervous,” she said, cocking an eyebrow.
I snorted a chuckle as something of a defense mechanism.
“Why wouldn’t I be? With everything that’s been going on? Can you blame me for wondering anytime someone walks through the door what might go down this time?”
Layla’s eyes softened in sympathy. She reached into her bag, grabbed something, and sat next to me, planting a kiss on my cheek. She hugged me close and took my hand.
I felt something metallic and chilled placed in it.
“What’s this?”
She again gave me a kiss on the cheek.
“This will be what you need to move your life in the right direction.”
Curious, I glanced at her with confusion. She motioned her head down to the device, which I followed. It was a recorder, no larger than my thumb, with just two buttons—seemingly one for record, and one for play.
“Go ahead. It’s set up for you to hear.”
I tried not to let my emotions go any particular direction, but goddamn if they didn’t vacillate all over the place from overwhelmingly excited to dreadfully nervous and back, all over the course of just a couple of seconds before I pressed play. With a gulp, I did just that.
“… damnit, Morgan, why do you keep seeing that fucking cocksucker?”
Edwin.
“Dad, what do you mean? He’s my brother!”
Morgan?
“He’s a goddamn cocksucker of a brother, Morgan, and if you so much as go around him again, I will make sure that you are fucking ruined for life. You hear me? Your goddamn whore of a mother—”
“Dad!”
“Shut your fucking mouth!”
A loud slap followed. Had Edwin… actually just hit Morgan?
“You listen to me good, you goddamn shit,” Edwin continued.
“I run the show. You think just because that whore is leaving me that I’m gonna cower and quit?
Not a goddamn chance. I’ll run you into the ground like I’m running that prick Chance down.
I’ll run you out of shop like a ran your little Miss Sunshine business out. ”
Claire…
“Dad, what the hell are you doing? What do you mean, ran them out?”
“Oh, you fucking fool. Who do you think hired all her employees away, huh?”
The smoking gun…
“And who do you think is going to crush Virtual Realty? You think I’m gonna let them rise?!? I’d rather burn a billion dollars than ever see Chance rise up!”
Holy shit. Morgan recorded all of this.
He recorded all of this and gave it to Layla.
He really is on my side now…
“Dad…”
“Don’t fucking ‘Dad’ me, Morgan Hunt!” Edwin bellowed. “I’ll make it clear one more time. You see him again, and I will make sure you never get a job for as long as you live. You’ll have to live off the grid like one of those goddamn hippies in Oregon, you got me?”
“Yes sir,” Morgan said, coughing.
The recording then sounded with Morgan leaving… but it did not end there. Had Morgan chose to leave the device in there?
“Goddamnit,” Edwin muttered, talking to himself. “Fucking prick Chance… need to get him out of here.”
He then grumbled to himself some about Andrew being in a pain in the ass for not taking his deal, suspecting that I had played a part in preventing him from getting the deal. Oh, how right he was—and how little he knew how much I had in my hands right now to destroy him.
“Chance ain’t ever gonna fuckin’ leave if I don’t get rid of him for good.”
Jesus. I was right.
“What the hell can I do… See if Mace can make it look gangsta… put a quick bullet in…”
That’s it.
Intent to murder.
“Make it… goddamnit, Morgan! What the hell do you want now?”
“So-sorry Dad, I just needed to grab something here,” he said. “To help me prepare for the meeting with Green Retail.”
“Well, shit, don’t be so goddamn forgetful next time you fucking shit!”
I looked over to see Layla texting on her phone at that moment, but I was too surprised and stunned at everything.
“Yes, yes sir,” Morgan said before the recording ended.
What I had just heard went well beyond unethical behavior. It went well beyond questionable morals. It went well beyond the typical Edwin behavior.
It went straight to the illegal. It was all the evidence I needed not just for the Wall Street Journal, but for the police. It was what I needed to take Edwin down.
And I had… Morgan and Layla to thank?
Promise me you’ll love me no matter what happens.
Promise me you’ll believe me no matter what happens.
Holy shit.
As if on cue, my phone buzzed. I knew who it was even before I took a look.
“Come to Hunt Industries,” Morgan wrote. “I’ve gotten everything taken care of.”
You had it all set up this whole time, didn’t you, I thought, unable to hide a wide grin on my face.
“Go,” Layla said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You got some work to take care of.”
That I did. That I finally, absolutely did.
Edwin Hunt was going down.