Chapter 25 The Fall #2
This made Wolf laugh so hard that Jack saw his back teeth. But that was only further confirmation that Wolf was like him, because the best way to tell someone came from nothing was to look into their mouth. Teeth always told a story the lips tried to hide.
Jack appealed to Wolf’s ego, and eventually he gave in. For the next five years, he became a shadow to the man. He learned every secret connection and how the world actually worked.
Wolf saw him as an extension of himself. He wanted Jack to be savage and ruthless. “When you decide something, you don’t waver, Jack.”
He taught Jack every illicit way a man could survive. Treated him as a son and a protégé. There was no question, Jack had potential. He was well read and ambitious, but what drove him most was his bone-deep hunger for revenge.
Wolf decided to bankroll his future. “The only way to turn a real profit,” Wolf said one evening, drunk on scotch and jazz. “Is to have some sweat in the game.”
By his seventeenth birthday, Jack moved out of Myrtle’s flat and into one of Wolf’s mansions, which Wolf referred to as the shallow end of the kiddie pool.
By his eighteenth birthday, Jack was ready to jump in the game.
And by the time he was twenty-one he’d earned what any man would deem a fortune.
He hid his wealth in biotech brands and made a hobby of studying the most corrupt investors. Giants of every industry attracted Jack’s interest, and once he found their weakness, he moved quick and relentlessly, cutting them down.
He consumed the fortunes of evil men. Most never even knew what hit them. But when it came time for the chancellor’s retribution, Jack made sure he understood what was happening.
First, he went after his interests, then his assets. Piece by piece, Jack dismantled the foundation which the chancellor stood on, and his career in parliament naturally crumbled.
But Jack wasn’t done.
He bided his time, letting the chancellor feel what it truly was to live in fear. He stripped away every last privilege until survival became his sole priority.
Next time he saw Jack, he was just a skeleton of a man, rotted from the inside out.
“Jackie? Is that you?” His hardships had blurred his memory, but Jack’s mind was sharper than ever. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to kill you.”
First the chancellor laughed, as if the words were said in jest. Then his memory cleared and he saw Jack’s motive clear as day.
He tried to run, but age and poverty had weakened him. In the end, it was personal. Jack kept him alive, even as he begged to die. And when it was finally over, there was nothing left for the authorities to find—nothing but a ring.
He looked up at Daisy, haunted by the shameful things he’d done. “I’m not a good man, Daisy. I’ve done terrible things.”
Questions moved silently across her face. “Who are the Volkovs?”
He frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“Someone told me they run the feast, but all the invitations said J.T. and Aunt Vanessa said it was you who changed her life forever.”
“You met Hunter Volkov in the hall. There are three of them. They’re brothers. People refer to them as the three bears.”
“Charming.”
“They’re not bad men. They’re just protective of their own. Tributes aren’t permitted anywhere near the family wings, and you were running directly there.”
“What’s their role in the Feast of the Fallen?”
“They own The Preserve, but I’m the host. It’s all me. I hire them to vet the participants and run security. I rent the grounds, but that’s as far as their involvement goes.”
“How many times have you done this?”
“This marks the tenth.”
Her eyes widened. “And it’s this big every year?”
“It varies, but one hundred is the average—fifty hunters, fifty tributes.”
“And you pay them—honestly? For each capture?”
The fact that she had to question his integrity stung, but he understood. “Every single one is paid. And if there’s ever an incident in question, I always favor the tribute’s side over the hunters.”
“How much—”
“The last feast awarded one hundred and sixty-two million.”
“Jesus.” She gaped at such a number. “In one night?”
“In one night.”
She looked away and smiled.
It broke his heart because he wasn’t sure if this would be the last time he ever saw her look like that. So beautiful. Happy, somehow, in the midst of whatever this was.
When she returned her gaze to his, she said, “A bad man wouldn’t do that, Jack.”
She was wrong. He was a bad man, and he did it year after year. “When I found you tonight, out in the rain, I made a decision. This is going to be the last Feast of the Fallen.”
“Why?”
“Like everything that involves man and power, corruption eventually spreads.”
“But what about all the people you’re helping?”
He looked away. “Was I helping you tonight, when Welles hurt you?”
“That wasn’t your fault—”
“All of this is my fault. I’m responsible for every tribute out there. I knew Welles was a red flag. I should have pulled him.”
She took his hand and gently traced the cut on his split knuckle. Slowly, she lifted his fingers to her lips and pressed a kiss. His breath caught as everything inside of him turned too heavy to carry.
She slid off the edge of the tub and lowered to the floor, sitting beside him. “What happened tonight was my fault. I knew he was dangerous, but I went back anyway.”
“Why did you?”
Her face pinched as she rubbed the hollow of her throat. “I lost something.”
The tributes only came with the items they were given at The Becoming. “What?”
“A locket—and before you lecture me about the rules, I knew we weren’t supposed to have personal items on us, but I didn’t care. I brought it anyway.”
“Why?”
Sadness drifted across her eyes. “It has a picture of my mum in it.”
“What does it look like?”
She laughed as color rushed to her cheek. “It’s nothing special. I bought it for eight pounds at a pawn shop—”
“What does it look like, Daisy?”
“Gold. Oval.”
He pulled out his phone and shot a text to Cole, instructing him to send whoever he could spare to find it. “Do you know when you lost it?”
“I’m not sure. I think when Hadrian grabbed me the first time.”
He pocketed his phone. “I’ll make sure it’s found.”
“Jack, it’s not—”
“If it’s important to you, it’s priceless. We’ll find it.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Thank you,” her voice was small, but laden with gratitude. Then she sighed. “I don’t…” She looked away.
“What?”
“I want to hug you, but I don’t want to upset you.”
A hug.
When was the last time he had a legitimate hug?
“Listen to me, Jackie. Be a good boy and do exactly as you’re told, understand?”
“I’m always a good boy, Mum,” he said cheekily, throwing his arms around her neck and squeezing tightly.
Jack’s throat tightened to a pinhole. “I…” His heart raced. The last hug he received turned out to be the greatest lie he was ever told.
He wanted Daisy’s hug more than his next breath, but he couldn’t find the words. And the thought of letting anyone that close to him…
“It’s okay. We don’t—”
“No.” It wasn’t okay. Hugs were how it started. Playful little lies of safety. But Daisy wasn’t trying to trick or trap him. In his heart and gut, he knew that. But his nervous system didn’t.
A cool sweat covered his shoulders under the weight of his clothes. Rising off the bathroom floor, he held out a hand and carefully pulled her up.
She looked up at him with glassy eyes, her expression unsure. “Where are we going?”
His voice abandoned him, so he faced her, wanting to get this right. Slowly, he stepped to her front, wrapping his arms around her waist until his hands met at the small of her back.
“Oh,” she said as he rested his head on her bare shoulder, her arms tentatively lifting to hold him tight.
Jack shut his eyes, letting the moment of peace wash over him.
Time stopped existing. He wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, only that it was the closest he’d ever come to experiencing bliss.
They eventually pulled apart in awkward increments, and Jack didn’t know what to say, so he simply asked, “Are you hungry?”
“Do you have anything to drink other than the brown stuff?”
He laughed. “Champagne?” When she smiled, he said, “You like champagne?”
“I think so. I only had my first sip yesterday.”
Holding her hand, he led her into the suite and stopped at the state of the room. “I, uh…” He led her to the chair by the fire. “Just need a minute.”
He made quick work of cleaning up the mess he made, righting the table, and gathering the broken dishes onto the tray. When he found the syringe and nail file from his travel kit, he turned to her in question.
A bright flush rose on her cheeks. “You had a gun. That was all I could find.”
He chuckled. “I get the file, but I’m a little confused about the Vitamin B.”
Her head sagged forward. “It’s vitamins?”
“Yes, for energy.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, it still has a point.”
He carried the tray to the bar and retrieved a bottle of Dom from the wine fridge, along with two glasses. Setting them on the table in front of her, he caught her chin under his finger and lifted her face to look at him.
Once more, her beauty took his breath away. He bent and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, which she leaned into. “The gun,” he whispered against her lips, “was to protect you, not harm you.” He licked softly, and she moaned.
“That may be true, but that needle was for your eye.”
“Ouch,” he laughed. “Should I still be concerned?”
“That depends on your behavior.”
He twisted the foil and popped the cork with practiced ease. Once he poured two glasses, he handed her one. “Cheers.”
“To friendship,” she said, clinking her glass to his before sipping. When he didn’t drink, she covered her mouth and set down the glass. “Don’t you like it?”
He sipped, realizing he was making it awkward, then set down his glass next to hers. “It’s fine. I just had a thought.”
“Oh? Care to share?”