Chapter Twenty-Five
Mason
I lift the binoculars to my face and frown. “Unfuckingbelievable.”
“What do you want to do, boss? I can take a few men over there to send a message.”
I lower the binoculars and turn to face Carlisle. “Let me think.”
Barging in there will do more harm than good.
I’ve already tried threatening to harm anyone who attends these meetings, and I’ve gotten my point across a time or two.
Clearly, that isn’t enough.
With a frown, I lift the binoculars again and study the docks. Michael Everett and Lance Fitzpatrick are facing each other, silhouetted against the setting sun. I look away and spot their security detail patrolling nearby. When I think one of them sees me, I exhale and turn to Carlisle.
“I need your men to spread out,” I bark through gritted teeth. “I don’t like surprises.”
I have no intention of going in there unprepared like last time.
If they want a fight, I’ll give them the fight of their lives, but I have every intention of sorting this out on the docks.
This won’t spill over into other aspects of the business if I can help it.
Carlisle pauses. “What about the inside man?”
I run my fingers over the outline of my gun. “Find out what you can and then we’ll take care of him. I don’t want any loose ends.”
I can’t have anything tying this back to me or my men, no matter how useful or loyal our mole has been.
Once a mole, always a mole.
Turning on my enemies is one thing, but I won’t give him a chance to do it to me.
His reward will be a quick and painless death.
Carlisle nods.
When he disappears, I step out into the dying light and stuff a hand into my pocket.
I unfasten a button on my jacket and take long, even strides.
One of Michael’s men spots me, but he’s too slow to reach for his gun.
My bullet slices through the air and lodges between his eyes, and he’s on the ground before the panic has even fully registered on his face.
I turn my gun on Lance’s men next.
One more drops, and the other clutches his arm and fumbles for his gun as I step over him and kick it away. Then, I point the trigger at his temple and watch the life leave his eyes. I look up to see that the remaining security detail has formed a protective barrier around Michael and Lance.
Fucking cowards.
Why don’t they have the nerve to face me themselves?
They’re all bluster and bullshit behind closed doors. When push comes to shove, they don’t have the balls to do what needs to be done.
So much for renegotiating a deal that honors the alliance under new terms.
Michael shoves forward, his face is bright red with anger. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I don’t miss a beat. “I’m assuming my invitation got lost in the mail.” I don’t blink at the several guns aimed at my chest. “Having to clean up after you two is getting so tiring.”
Michael bristles. “Who told you we need you to clean up after us?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Meeting behind my back once is a stupid mistake. Doing it twice is just asking for trouble.”
“We’re not meeting behind your—”
I throw a knife toward Lance, and it slices his ear. “Enough with the fucking lies. I already know your plan. What I’m trying to understand is why you two morons are still allowed to run around.”
Or why the higher-ups haven’t reigned them in.
Either the heads of their respective families have no idea what’s going on, or they’re testing the waters to see how we’ll react.
I don’t like either of those options.
Michael Everett and Lance Fitzpatrick are no longer thorns in my side.
They’re bad enough separately, but together, they’re becoming something of a threat, and I need to eliminate the problem before it causes any further damage.
They’re the reason business has been slow.
Without constant access to the docks and marinas, I’ve had to come up with other costly arrangements, and I don’t know how much longer I can fend off my father’s questions.
The news will reach him eventually, and I want to have this tied up by the time it does. If someone else goes to him first, I have no idea how we’ll react, or how far the damage will spread.
Lance stands next to Michael, and his eyebrows draw together. “Look around you, Payne. You’re not exactly in a position to be making threats.”
I let out a low, humorless laugh. “When I fucking threaten you, you’ll know.”
“You’re outgunned,” Michael adds. “If I were you, I would turn around and walk away. There’s nothing here for you.”
They actually think they’re going to walk out of this unscathed. Either they have something else up their sleeve, or they really are dumber than they look.
I give them both a slow, cold smile. “It’s a good thing neither of you are me, then. I assumed that I knocked some sense into your thick fucking head in my office the other day, but I can see I’m going to have to resort to more drastic measures.”
Think this through, Mason. Don’t do anything stupid.
Except the time for caution has passed.
They’ve all but waved the banner of war in our faces, and I can’t allow their behavior to go unchecked if I want the empire to emerge unscathed.
I can’t let them continue to test the boundaries more each day.
Lance steps between Michael and me, one arm thrown up on either side of him. “We can still resolve this. We can come to an agreement—”
My hand darts out, and I yank Lance’s arm behind his back hard enough that it makes a loud popping sound. Abruptly, I pull him to me, his men spring into action, and there’s a clamor of confusion and anger as they glance from him to each other, unable to settle on a decision.
Mindless buffoons.
I should’ve known Lance wouldn’t hire people who can think for themselves.
“What are you doing?” he says between clenched teeth.
I press my mouth to his ear. “Teaching you the goddamn lesson I should have before. You should’ve stayed in your corner, Princess.”
Lance’s breathing is ragged and uneven. “You don’t want to do this, Payne. You can still walk away.”
I twist his arm harder, forcing him to cry out. “I’m getting pretty fucking tired of people telling me what I can and can’t do. I’ve been more than patient, and I’ve given plenty of chances.”
A lesser man would’ve put a bullet through their heads. As tempted as I am, I know it won’t solve anything.
Still, I envision the message it’ll send if I send Carlisle with their heads in bags.
The image is so tempting that it takes me a minute to shake it off.
Michael and Lance might be acting like they call the shots, but that they’re just pawns making a name for themselves.
Someone higher up the food chain is using them to send a message.
That’s the only explanation I have, even if I don’t understand the hows or whys just yet.
I hate hypotheticals, but I know there will be time to unravel all of this later.
Lance squirms to look at me. “We can still figure something out.”
I dig my gun into his side and drop my voice. “And why the hell should I make a deal with either of you dimwits? Neither of you play by the rules or honor your word.”
“We can,” Michael maintains. “For the right price, of course.”
“No honor among thieves,” I mutter. I pull Lance backward, and he stumbles. “I’ve indulged you two long enough. It’s my turn now.”
Michael’s expression tightens. “There’s no way you’re getting out of here alive, Payne.”
I chuckle. “Did you think I would show up without backup? I’ve got other measures in place.”
Michael’s nostrils flare, and a flicker of unease springs to his eyes. “You’re lying.”
“Are you a betting man, Everett?”
Michael glances around nervously. “Let him go.”
I twist Lance’s arm harder, and he howls again. “No, I don’t think I will. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Everett.”
Michael takes a step in my direction, and a bullet flies out of nowhere, lodging in his leg. A heartbeat later, he falls to the ground, and one of his men props him up. They form a circle around him, their eyes darting around in confusion and panic.
I had left Carlisle with explicit instructions.
Take down anyone who looks like a problem.
Michael fit the bill.
I had a feeling his mouth would get him into trouble, but this wasn’t quite how I pictured it.
“I told you not to be an idiot,” I add. “That was a warning shot.”
Michael’s head emerges from the circle. “Let him go, and let’s settle this like men.”
I laugh and shove Lance aside. “Let’s go, then. Give me your best shot.”
Lance falls to the ground, pressing his lips together to keep from crying out.
A long, tense moment passes where nothing happens, and I begin to think Michael is full of shit.
When I take a step toward Lance, the blood drains from his face, but he still tries to push himself to his feet.
Two of his security men move in my direction, and I give them a cursory glance and point to my gun. I point it at Lance’s head and wait.
Slowly, I kneel in front of him and wait until he’s looking at me. “Guess you’re not the only one who’s been deemed dispensable.”
Lance’s eyes narrow. “Fuck you.”
“Unoriginal last words, but I’m not surprised.”
I hear Michael before I see him, and I’m on my feet in an instant. I spin to face him, the blood pounding in my ears. He charges, and the gun falls to the ground with a clatter. Laughing, I square my shoulders and charge at him, knocking him to the ground.
He doesn’t stay down for long, fury written on his face.
Michael swings and misses by an inch, and I kick out my leg.
He gives his security detail a warning look when they move to help him.
They stiffen but do nothing. Then, he wheels on me and throws another punch, this one close to my ear.
I curl my hand into a fist and wait for him to throw a few more punches before I attack.
Michael thrashes and growls, but his movements are slow and unfocused, and the wound in his leg is bleeding profusely.
The metallic smell of his blood only fuels me.
I’ve been waiting for an excuse to beat the shit out of him. Now that I have it, it’s all I can think about.