Chapter Two
Mason
“Get out of my way.”
“You heard what the doctor said. You’re supposed to—”
“I don’t need you to tell me what the doctor said,” I cut in. “Move out of the fucking way, or I’ll make you.”
Oliver presses his lips into a thin, white line.
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you deaf?”
Oliver continues to lean against the wall, myriad emotions dancing across his face. I shift from one foot to the other and scowl. Then I let my eyes sweep over him with a bored expression. I inch closer, and panic crosses Oliver’s features.
I’m not in the mood to coddle him.
It’s not my job to erase the guilt gnawing away at Oliver. He has no one to blame but himself.
You dragged him away from the life he’s been building. How did you expect him to react?
Frowning, I glance at the empty hallway behind Oliver, trying to keep my anger in check. A heartbeat later, I drag my gaze back to my brother. Oliver takes a step to the side.
“You need to be careful,” he says. “There’s a lot more at play here.”
“Is there something you want to tell me, little brother?”
I hope he’ll come clean, if only so I won’t have to deal with the betrayal.
I don’t want to punish Oliver for trying to remove me as a chess piece in the hopes it would solve his problems.
I don’t even want to acknowledge the role he’s played in all of this.
Don’t be an idiot. You can’t ignore this forever. Brother or not, Oliver betrayed you once, and if word gets out and you don’t punish him, he might do it again.
Still, the thought of making Oliver pay doesn’t sit well with me. He’s the younger brother I’ve watched over my whole life.
I have no idea how many people know the truth about his involvement, and the thought makes me sick because I have no idea how long I can keep covering for him.
Not without risking everything I’ve worked hard to build.
All it takes is one wrong word, and everything will come crashing down around us.
Goddamn it.
“No,” Oliver replies. “I’m just saying you need to tread carefully, especially with what’s been happening. God knows how many more people they have on their payroll.”
“I’m used to having people who want to kill me,” I say. “I’m not going to sit around and wait for them to finish the job. I have things to do.”
Including two prisoners who need a special touch.
It’s been days since I’ve been down to see Noah. I’m relieved to have one less thing getting in the way of my relationship with London, but I know I can’t put it off forever.
The rat and his brother need to be dealt with, even if I do have more pressing issues at hand.
For now, London’s ex and his reporter brother are a thorn in my side, but I can’t overlook the damage they might cause.
Not with so much at stake.
Oliver struggles to match his pace to mine. “At least let me come with you.”
I toss him a look, my thoughts tumbling over each other. Finally, I stop in the middle of the hallway to give him a chance to catch up. “Don’t get in my way.”
Without waiting for a reply, I set off again with Oliver next to me.
I ignore the pinprick of pain racing up and down my back. By the time I reach the basement, there’s a thin trickle of sweat on the back of my neck, and my lungs feel like they’re on fire. Carlisle’s eyes widen when I reach the bottom of the stairs, and he sees Oliver standing behind me.
I venture deeper into the basement, where Noah is still tied to a chair with a smattering of bruises scattered across his face and arms. He stares at me through his good eye, and a flicker of something flashes in his eyes.
His expression turns blank when I sink into the chair opposite him and roll up my sleeves.
“You look like shit,” Noah says. “Finally piss off the wrong people?”
“I’d be more worried about myself if I were you.” I offer him a cursory look. “Still insisting that you have nothing else to hide?”
Noah stiffens. “I’ve told you everything I know.”
I glance at one of the men behind him, and he steps forward with a pack of tools. Slowly, and with exaggerated ease, I flip it open and examine the tools underneath the dim lighting. My fingers close around a knife, and I watch as Noah’s throat moves, but no sound comes out.
Come on. Just tell me what I want to know. You don’t want to be here any more than I want you to. Don’t be an idiot, Noah.
A sheen of sweat breaks out across Noah’s forehead as I lean forward and touch the tip of the blade to his hand. “I’ve had a lot of time the past few days to think about how this is going to go. I want you to know that I’m going to enjoy this.”
Noah’s eyes widen, but he remains silent.
“You’ve been a pain in the ass from the beginning,” I continue. “I would say it’s not personal, but we both know that isn’t true.”
“We both know you’re not going to hurt me,” Noah says quietly. “You can cut the crap.”
I stand and gesture to one of the men, who melts into the shadows.
A short while later, Ryder is brought into the basement, bound and gagged.
As soon as the bag is removed, his eyes widen and sweep the room.
He makes choked sounds as a chair is dragged and placed next to Noah.
Once Ryder is forced into the chair, he faces Noah, and the shock and hatred burning in his eyes is almost worth it.
Turning the brothers against each other is going to be easier than I thought.
I might even enjoy it.
I nod at Katia, and she steps forward and whips the gag away. Ryder sputters and gasps, his face a bright red. He tugs at his restraints, and his mouth moves soundlessly. Finally, Noah’s brother fixes his gaze on me and clears his throat.
“Whatever this is, I’m sure we can sort it out.”
I hold the knife up to the light. “No, I don’t think we can. I don’t like people looking into my business.”
Ryder shakes his head. “I don’t even know who you are—”
I cut Ryder off with a punch to the gut that leaves him wheezing. “Let’s agree not to lie to each other, shall we? I know who you are, and you know who I am. I know you’re digging into me because of what your brother said.”
Ryder lifts his gaze and swallows. “I can drop the story.”
I tilt my head to look at him and scratch my chin. “That won’t be enough. I want you to print a retraction.”
Ryder’s face turns a deeper red. He glances at his brother and then back to me. “Look, I don’t know what my brother did to piss you off, but printing a retraction will kill my career. I can’t do that.”
I circle Ryder.
When I step behind him, he goes as still as a statue. I yank him back by his hair and press the knife to his throat. “I was hoping we could come to an agreement, but if you’re not going to play, this whole thing is useless.”
Ryder winces as I dig the knife deeper, and a thin red line of blood forms. “I can pull the plug on the piece, and eventually the chatter will die down. You’ll be old news in no time.”
I dig the knife deeper. “That’s not good enough.”
A tremor moves through Ryder as he tries to hold still.
I look over at Oliver, who stands near Katia, white as a sheet.
I struggle with the image of Oliver in the chair, subjected to the same pain and torture.
As if sensing my train of thought, my brother lifts his gaze, and our eyes meet from across the room.
He doesn’t look away, and I wonder if he can read any of it on my face.
If our father finds out you tried to have me killed, there won’t be a damn thing I can do to stop him. If anything, the fact that you carry the same name will only make the punishment worse.
Jack Payne is many things, but patient isn’t one of them, and if he gets a whiff of Oliver’s involvement in the attack on my life, my brother’s days are numbered. I’m still grieving his betrayal, but I can’t let him fall into my father’s hands.
Carlisle has done what he can to destroy the evidence that points to my brother, but I have no idea if it’s enough, and the longer I go without giving my father someone else to focus on, the more danger Oliver is in.
Oliver wouldn’t survive your father’s wrath, and you know it. You need to give him a name, and fast, otherwise it’ll only be a matter of time before his involvement is brought to the light.
I’m not going to be of any use to anyone if Jack goes after me, too.
Katia steps out from the shadows, and I release Ryder’s head. I circle back to the front, lean over him, and wait for Noah’s brother to look at me. The fear and hatred in his eyes are clear when I draw my arm back and punch him in the face.
Ryder hisses and doubles over.
I run the knife over his jeans and pause at his ankles.
Then I dig the blade into the soft flesh there.
Blood pools and drips onto the floor beneath him.
Slowly, I lift the blade up to his arm and cut through the flesh there, earning another hiss and a growl of pain.
Ryder is panting when I put the knife away and select a pair of pliers.
Katia rips off Ryder’s shoes, and I look at his toes. “I think you need a little more persuading. What do you think, Noah?”
“Leave him out of this,” Noah replies. “I’ve already told you what you need to know. He has nothing to do with this.”
“Wrong.” I clamp on one of the toenails and pull hard enough to make Ryder scream in pain. “You made sure he was complicit when you told him. You have no one to blame but yourself.”
Ryder shrieks again when I pull out the toenail, and blood comes rushing out.
I look up to find Oliver turned away, his eyes pinched at the edges. I stare at him for another moment and will my brother to look at me. When he doesn’t, I swing my gaze back to Ryder and turn to the other foot, my eyebrows drawing together when I pull out another toenail.
Ryder’s hair is plastered to his face, and there’s a sallow tint to his skin.
Still, he won’t break, and I’m almost impressed by his resilience.
It’s been a while since I’ve had to work this hard.
An hour passes, and even though Ryder is trembling and his body is covered in sweat, he still won’t give me what I want.