21. Rae
21
RAE
I ’m still agitated from the conversation with Leni when I try calling Ash but get no answer.
So, I head directly to the hotel, speaking to the staff by the pool in case anyone found my bracelet.
No luck.
I head upstairs and quietly let myself into Ash’s suite with the key he insisted I keep in case something came up.
There’s no sign of the jewelry in the kitchen or living room or bathroom, the only spots I was in when I was here.
But something else is off.
Ash’s door is open a crack, but there’s no sound from within. Not even his light snoring. Alarm bells go off in my head.
I throw open the door of Ash’s room, see his stuff still there. No Ash. No Gavin. In fact, I don’t see anything to indicate anyone other than Ash has been sleeping in this room.
But on the bedside table…
There’s a collection of bags and pills.
No . Shit. Shit, shit. Has he been using the whole time?
I try Ash again. Still no answer.
Next, I hit a contact on speed dial.
“Harrison, it’s me,” I bite into the voicemail. “Ash is gone. Something’s wrong.”
I head downstairs and get into the car with my driver and security.
“Where to?” the driver asks.
That’s when I realize I have no idea.
“Where would he go?” I mutter, thinking back to the room. There were no suitcases. No shoes belonging to anyone but Ash.
I know what happened . “Where is Heaven’s Gate?”
“It’s difficult to get to.”
“I don’t care. We’re going.”
* * *
When we arrive, the driver stays in the car while security accompanies me through the pine forest to the secluded lookout. Tripping over roots, I second-guess this idea more than once.
“Ash!” I call through the dense brush.
I curse as I scrape my knee. Once I emerge from the trees, I find a hunched form sitting near the edge of the lookout.
I wave off security, motioning for them to stay back.
My racing pulse steadies a few beats as I approach him.
“It’s a hell of a view,” I comment.
Ash turns. “That’s why people come here. Americans. Brits. Everyone. They say they come for the party, but they come for this. To feel free.”
He’s high. Dangerously so.
I sit next to him. “Is that how you feel?”
His shoulders tighten. “Not so much, Raegan.”
The heaviness in him breaks my heart. “He left, didn’t he?”
There’s no answer for a few minutes. All I hear are the waves far below, the insects in the forest.
“His girlfriend showed up. He left with her.”
The raw anguish in his voice rips me up inside. Emotion rises up my throat, and I swallow it back down.
Ash inches closer to the edge, and I grab his arm. “Let’s stay back.”
“But you can see better the closer you are. It’s like you could fly off into heaven.”
“It’s not so bad here. People love you and need you. The rest of your team. Me. Harry.”
“He’s here?” Ash turns quickly, as if hoping for his brother’s presence.
“Not right now.”
I wish he were here. For me, for his brother.
But he’s in London. Not because of something important—because no matter what he promised me about focus on our future, his vendetta is once again taking priority.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go back to the villa.”
After I get Ash to the car, I check my phone. Still nothing from Harrison.
I send off a text.
Rae: We need you at the villa. This is not a fucking drill .
* * *
HARRISON
“My hands are tied, Mr. King.” The man across the conference table in the London boardroom taps a pen on the desk. “Ivanov offered us a better price, and the deal has been inked.”
My efforts to interrupt Mischa’s operations the past few days have been mildly entertaining, if not even wholly satisfying. The rats in his Paris club were especially vindictive. But yesterday, my efforts caught up to me when I learned my real estate team was waiting on a signature to renew a major lease and couldn’t reach me.
Because of it, I lost my lease on a fucking club.
Now I’m negotiating to ensure one of my more profitable venues—one of a handful of which I don’t own outright—continues.
There’s no way I’m giving it up.
I survey the executive at the property management company. He might be responsible for billions in real estate, but so am I.
“What if I tell you Ivanov won’t be in any business in a few months?”
“Forgive me if that’s hard to believe.”
The windows in the historic building let in filtered light, and I shift out of my chair to cross to one, getting a view of the street below and the park on the far side.
“You don’t have to believe it, but know this—it’s easy for you to review paperwork and file deals and cut checks, but when you sign on to work with Ivanov, he’s not interested in those things. He’s a gravedigger.”
“And he’ll fall into one of his own graves by mistake?”
“No. The next one he digs could be yours.”
Whatever he sees on my face has him blanching.
“Tell him,” I start, “that you were mistaken about the dates on Echo’s contract. The venue is no longer available. For your inconvenience, I’ll ensure your son’s tuition is covered at Eton next year.”
He extends a hand and we shake.
I leave the boardroom grimly satisfied.
On impulse, I pick up my phone and leave a voicemail as I head down the hall.
“You can’t beat me. Whatever you do, I will watch you. And cover you. I won’t forget what you did.”
I click off and take the three flights of stairs down to the main level.
It feels good to stretch my legs after a day of travel. The past week has been hell, but I’m on my way back to Ibiza, where I can hold Raegan in my arms.
The limo is waiting at the curb to take me to the airport. But before I shift inside, I pull up.
The rear tire is flat.
I knock on the driver’s window and motion him over.
He rounds to my side, hand curling at his hip when he sees the damage.
“I’m so sorry, sir. I don’t know what could’ve happened.”
There’s a slice as long as my thumb clean through the rubber. “I do.”
It’s twilight, and I need to get on a plane for Spain, but while the driver promises to call me another car, I’m already tuned out.
Up the block, another black car is idling.
The back window is shaded, so I stare in the front for a second. Two.
I cross to the park on the other side of the street, sinking onto a stone bench with a view of pigeons playing in a fountain.
Less than a minute later, a man is out of the back and approaching me.
“I trust you heard I got the lease back,” I say as he shifts onto the other end of the bench.
Mischa’s mouth twists. “Never like to deal with landlords. Better to own property. Your parents always said that.”
“Before you killed them.”
He lifts a hand as if I’m the one being unreasonable. “I didn’t kill them. They indulged.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Remember when we did that job together? We made a strong team.” Mischa stretches his legs out, and it’s like we’re two old men reminiscing about good times.
If the good times were trafficking narcotics.
It was the first and last thing I did for his parents, back when he was trying to convince me to work for them.
“No. We were never a team. You never had a chance at recruiting me.”
“That’s what I told my parents.” He sounds almost sad.
I don’t know what they did to him for his failure.
I can’t find it in me to care.
“Congratulations,” I say, thinking of his engagement. ”I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”
He grins. “I have plans for her. You won’t miss her? I used to prefer blondes, but lately it’s brunettes. Strange to have preferences change after decades.”
My gut twists.
He’s not talking about Eva. He’s talking about Rae.
I lean across the bench, ignoring a pack of schoolchildren that runs past, and grab his collar. “You will never have her.”
The children are barely past when two men—no, three—start to close in on us from around the park.
I didn’t bring security to London, preferring to leave them with Raegan.
Now, I realize that was either wise or foolish as Mischa rises, dragging me with him. He produces a knife, holding it at my stomach, hidden from prying eyes by my jacket.
Despite the public setting, the blade is an unyielding promise against my abs.
Bloodshed is a crass way to get what you want. I prefer deals with wits and money. But adrenaline and rage pound in my veins.
“Coward’s way out,” I rasp. “You always took it, even in school.”
“Would you do it?” He wraps my hand around his, flipping the knife so it’s against his stomach. “You say you’re not like me. Let’s find out.”
I could do it, could end this for all of us.
My phone jumps in my pocket. I ignore it, but he grins.
The next second, he’s gone, turning and slipping into the stream of pedestrians along the sidewalk that borders the park.
I’m not a killer like he is. But I wish I were.
It’s not until I’m in my new car and on the way to the airport that I check my phone.
A slew of messages and notifications fills the screen, and one in particular grabs my attention.
Rae: We need you at the villa. This is not a fucking drill .
I call her.
No answer.
I hang up and try again.
Midway back on my flight, she finally answers.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did Ivanov?—”
“It’s your brother. He had a bad day, and he’s really upset, and it messed with his head.”
My eyes squeeze shut. “Thank fuck it’s nothing serious. I’ll be home in ninety minutes.”
There’s a long pause. “No. Not ‘thank fuck,’ Harrison.” Her voice trembles, with sadness or rage—I can’t tell which. “Not everything wrong in the world is caused by a single man.”
She hangs up on me, and I’m left staring at the phone, frustrated and angry myself.
The plane lands, and I waste no time getting back to the house.
“Raegan!” I call when I barge in.
Leni’s the one who appears, looking tired and wary. She tilts her head toward the patio.
I stalk through the house and find Sebastian lying on the table. Confusion grips me as I watch him point at the sky, stabbing his finger in the air as he murmurs words I can’t hear.
Unreal . I hurried home with a gut full of panic only to find my own flesh and blood has indulged in some kind of party drug.
“What did he take?” I demand.
“Not sure. Rae found him. We’re waiting for him to come down.”
My jaw clenches. I cross to my brother and grab him by the shirt collar.
His glazed eyes find mine. “Harry?—“
“Don’t,” I bite out, my grip tightening as I lift him to sitting.
Sebastian’s hands close around my wrists, trying to pry me off him.
“I’ve been trying to bring down the man responsible for all our problems, and you’re getting high?”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Rae’s voice at my back has me spinning.
“This is what you called me back for?” I demand. “My brother went on a trip?”
Her eyes flash. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What I know is my brother fucked himself up. I don’t tolerate drugs. It’s the only thing I can’t abide.”
Rae grabs my wrist and stalks into the house. “He had a rough night,” she says under her breath. “I went to find him.”
“He doesn’t need a keeper. He’s an adult.”
“And he fucked up, like we all do. That’s why we have friends and family. You showed me that. How you take care of people. It’s one of the things that made me love you.”
“I’m too much of a damned bleeding heart, and it’s going to stop.”
Shock collides with hurt on her face. “I know you’ve been dealt some shitty hands in this life, but I won’t watch you destroy your family”—her gaze cuts toward the patio, toward my brother—“or yourself.”
Low laughter comes from Sebastian. It cuts off the second I level my gaze on him.
I nod to Rae. “Let’s go upstairs.”
But she steps back. “No.” Disbelief slams into me as she tilts her head at my brother. “Come on, Ash.”
“You’re going with him?” I demand.
“He needs help. You have no idea what happened to him, and you don’t want to. That’s how I know this isn’t you.”
Her eyes shine with more emotions than I can name. If I weren’t overtired and bewildered, I’d make her stay until I could tease them apart, have her explain each one to me until I understood.
She piles him into the car while I watch. I’m helpless and furious. A terrible fucking combination.
I call out to her, “You owe me a favor.”
Rae freezes and turns. She crosses back to me. “What did you say?”
My heart starts beating again. I’m not sure when it stopped, except everything in me seems synced to her.
“When you first came here last year, we made a deal that included three favors,” I go on, threading my hands into her hair. “You gave me two.”
Her lips part. “Harrison…”
“Don’t,” I mutter, leaning in to press my lips to her hair as my fingers tangle in the strands. “Don’t walk out on me.”
She’s not going to, I realize as she lets me hold her.
But when she pulls back, it’s to brush her lips over mine, cool and fleeting. “I am doing you a favor, but you have to see that.”
Those are the last words before she disappears into the dark and I’m alone.