Chapter Eighteen
Mason
I draw my hand back and land another punch to Ryder’s stomach, making him double over and wheeze. “You are a waste of space.”
He lifts his head and stares at me through his good eye. “I must be good for something if I’m still here.”
I use a towel to wipe my knuckles. “I don’t care what lies you tell yourself to get through the night.”
Ryder’s lips curl into a smile as blood drips down his chin. “I think we both know I’m not the one who’s lying.”
I throw the towel onto the table and pick up a pair of pliers to examine them. “You should listen to your brother. At least he’s got some common sense.”
Noah was a lot harder to break than his brother, but at least I’m sure he doesn’t know anything else.
His half-cooked attempt at taking me down by having his brother expose me has already unraveled around him, and he has nothing left. Not London, not the prestigious job he worked hard for, and certainly not the father willing to sell him out.
I almost feel sorry for him.
With a frown, I set down the pliers and reach for the knife, the hard steel glistening underneath fluorescent lights. “You’re both of no use to me.”
Ryder pauses to spit out a mouthful of blood. “Are you sure you aren’t the one who hit your head? The story is still out there, remember? And my editor knows where to look for the bodies.”
I face Ryder and hold the knife up to the light. “You mean Sharlene? Yes, we had a nice chat over coffee.”
Some of the blood drains from Ryder’s face. “You’re lying.”
“She suggested we meet at that little bistro in a lesser-known part of the city. Sharlene told me you like to go there to write.”
I advance on Ryder and hold the knife to his throat. “It’s a nice place, and that cute little brunette there? I can see why you like her. Maybe I’ll go back and have a chat with her.”
“Stay the hell away from her!”
I chuckle and press the knife against his flesh. “You’re not in a position to make any demands.”
Ryder holds still. “Neither are you.”
“Stop taunting him,” Noah snaps from a few feet away. He lifts his head and looks at his brother through his half-swollen eye. “He’s baiting you, Ryd. Don’t give him anything.”
Ryder scowls. “I think you’re doing enough of that for both of us.”
“I’m trying to keep us alive.”
Ryder tilts his head to look at his brother, and a flash of anger moves across his face. “No, you’re trying to stay on his good side, so he doesn’t kill you. I never pegged you for a coward.”
Noah’s expression flattens and his eyes blaze. “It isn’t cowardly to want to live. One of us has to be smart.”
“You think this is being smart?” Ryder laughs. “He’s not going to let you go. Not when it’s much easier to keep you here. This way, he doesn’t have to worry about you and London.”
“He won’t hurt me while—”
I push the knife into Ryder’s leg, and his scream echoes in the room. Noah swallows and swings his gaze to mine. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“As amusing as it is to watch you two, I have better things to do.”
Like figure out a way to get London give up the baby.
She’s steered clear of me all day, avoiding my gaze whenever our paths cross.
I hate not being able to hold her or touch her.
You can’t do either of those things until you figure out a way out of this mess. Otherwise, whatever backup drive Ryder has with the exposé on you won’t matter.
None of it will matter.
I’m already on edge, snapping at everyone within reach and second-guessing every decision.
I don’t know who else knows, and despite London’s assurances, it’s only a matter of time before my enemies find out.
Will Oliver deal a final blow?
Will Matthew make sure he strikes where it hurts?
Will our father stop any of it?
I pull the knife out of Ryder’s leg. “You’re going to tell me where your backup drive is.”
“I don’t have a backup drive,” Ryder pants, the sweat on his forehead glistening.
“I know you’re lying.” I position the knife over his other leg and watch him flinch. “So, let’s try this again?”
“I don’t have a—” I cut him off and drive the knife into his other leg as he shrieks. His head falls forward, panting and wheezing, then goes silent. When I use two fingers to push the knife in deeper, he whimpers.
“Just tell him what he wants to know, for Christ’s sake.” Noah’s voice cuts through the silence. “No story is worth your life, Ryd.”
Ryder’s head snaps up, and he looks at his brother.
“Do you have any idea what’ll happen if I pull the plug on this?
I’ll be the laughingstock of the paper. No one will touch me with a ten-foot pole.
My career and everything I’ve worked for will be over.
That backup drive is the only thing keeping me alive.
Once he has it, he’ll have no reason to keep me alive.
No guarantee I won’t try and run another story. ”
“Don’t be stupid,” Noah murmurs. “We can still walk out of here together.”
Ryder makes a low choking sound. “We both know that’s not going to happen.”
“It will,” Noah maintains, his voice rising slightly. “We’ll get through it together, I promise.”
“I don’t want your promises,” Ryder says. “It won’t do me any good.”
I yank the knife out and throw it onto the floor. Then, I cross over to the table of tools and turn my back on them, my mind spinning. A door opens in the background, and I smell Carlisle before he says anything. When he comes to stand next to me, I hand him two strips of cloth.
Carlisle kneels in front of Ryder to stop the bleeding.
I stride over to Noah and wait for him to look at me. “Any last words?”
“I won’t play this game with you.”
I shrug and kick his chair. He falls sideways and cracks his head. Noah groans, blinks a few times, mumbles something, and goes slack.
I drag him to his feet.
“Where are you taking him?” Ryder protests. “You can’t do this. You’re not going to get away with this.”
I glance at Carlisle. “Shut him up.”
Ryder’s eyes widen as Carlisle stuffs something into his mouth. He sputters and jerks as I drag Noah up the stairs. I pause at the top and set him down to push the door open and gesture to one of the men beyond it. In silence, he scoops Noah into his arms and carries him to the car waiting outside.
Carlisle pulls Ryder up the stairs and stops next to me. “Should I knock him out, too?”
I shake my head. “I want him to be awake and aware of everything that happens next.”
Ryder makes a final attempt to break free, and it ends with me using the butt of my gun against the side of his head. Fresh blood pours out of the wound there, and he sways on his feet. Carlisle hauls him off, and I catch a glimpse of his pale face before he rounds the corner and disappears.
In the kitchen, I stop to wash my hands and adjust the collar of my shirt.
On my way out, London comes down the stairs, her hair pulled into a ponytail on top of her head. She takes in my bruised knuckles. She quickens her pace until she reaches the foot of the stairs, and we stare at each other.
She reaches out a hand, but I step out of reach.
I feel London’s eyes on me as I stride out the front door where Carlisle and a few other men are waiting for me.
“You know where to take him,” I tell Carlisle, pausing with my hand on the door. “I’ll come by once I’ve taken care of the other one.”
Carlisle scans the darkness and nods.
A moment later, I get into the car and watch Carlisle through the glass.
He waits until my car is at the gate before getting into the other one.
Next to me, Noah’s head rests against the cool glass, his chest rising and falling evenly.
As we drive away from the estate, he begins to mutter.
I’m halfway through my second glass of whiskey when Noah stirs and begins to struggle against his binds.
“Don’t waste your time.”
Noah goes rigid. “London will never forgive you for this.”
“She has more important things on her mind, trust me.”
“She won’t forgive you,” Noah repeats. “And what kind of man ties up his enemy? Aren’t you at least going to give me a fair fight?”
I raise an eyebrow at Noah. “And why would I do that?”
Noah pauses. “Because she would want you to.”
I scoff. “If I were you, I’d spend a little less time worrying about what London wants, and a little more time planning what I want to do next.”
“I already told you that I won’t beg for my life.”
I set my glass down. “You could bargain, you know. At least for your brother’s life. Or does it mean so little to you?”
Noah studies me. “I don’t think it will do any good.”
“It won’t.” I offer Noah a cruel smile.
Sometime later, we pull up in front of a townhouse in the suburbs. I push the door open before the car comes to a stop.
Then, I reach across the seats and grab Noah by the scruff of his neck.
I drag him past a small gate, down a cobblestone path, and up a set of stairs. Once we reach the front door, I ring the doorbell and wait. Noah shifts from one foot to the other and inches away from me, but I yank him back and force him to his knees.
The door finally swings open, revealing a hazy-eyed mayor in a thick robe. Noah Sr. does a double-take when he sees us. He rubs a hand over his eyes.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“An olive branch.” I shove Noah at his father. “Now, let’s talk business.”
Noah Sr. barely looks at his son before he turns to me. “I knew you’d see reason.”
I grunt and step past the mayor and into the tile-floored foyer. Noah and his father exchange a few heated words before they turn to face me. With a frown, Noah Sr. turns back to me with a smile.
“Won’t you at least untie me?”
“Not until Mr. Payne and I are done,” Noah Sr. replies without looking at him. “Don’t want you getting any ideas about laying a hand on our guest, now, do we? Shall we go to my study, Mr. Payne?”