Chapter 8
Evan
Threats can make you weak,
To think of what’s to come.
To avoid seeing what’s here and now,
Living life as if you’re numb.
The lies are spinning webs,
To trap and hold you still.
The sinners hiding in plain sight,
Hold your fate against your will.
N ew York City is a sight that never fails to impress. It’s a mix of things—the nightlife, the skyscrapers, the people themselves. But winter is when it’s the most beautiful, I think.
Only the trees are wrapped with Christmas lights this early in November, but soon everything will be covered in white and blue lights. The shop windows in Rockefeller Center will be decorated with luxe details and high-end staging, and people will come from around the world to see it.
It’s stunning, but what’s best about it, is the crowds. During the winter months, this block is constantly packed. That’s exactly what I need right now.
I need to remove one of my gloves to turn on my phone and check the messages. My foot taps on the hard cobblestone beneath my feet as I wait on an iron bench.
The phone goes off in my hand and I stare at the message from my father.
Just a bit overworked because of my dumbass son.
Are you sure you’re all right? I ask him and ignore the insult.
It’s fine.
If you went to the hospital, I text him, it must’ve been bad.
On the subway here, I got the message from my father that he was being released.
He said he felt light-headed in the grocery store and the manager called an ambulance.
He said they were just being dramatic, but I know my father. He’s stubborn and hates hospitals.
I’m fine. Go make it right with your wife , he tells me, and I have to tear my eyes away from the phone.
I’m trying.
I hesitate to tell him, but the heat flowing through my veins begs me to text my father. She’s pregnant. I can’t help it. I’m so fucking proud. Like I did something amazing for the first time in my life.
His response is immediate.
Thank God. Now she has to forgive you, right? he texts back, and I let a small chuckle escape.
I wish it were that easy. That’s not how it works, Pops.
He messages back, It’s Pop-Pop now. I’m so happy for you two. You better make it right with her.
My phone pings again and this time it’s not my father, it’s the person I’ve been waiting for. I’m here.
A few children shriek with laughter as they run by me and I lift my eyes, watching them chase each other. That’s when I see her. Samantha.
I shove the phone in my pocket, stand up and put my glove back on, then shove my hands into my coat pockets as I walk toward her.
“Thank you for meeting me.” Sam greets me with bright red cheeks that match the tip of her nose.
Her hair’s been blown around her face by the wind, even though she has on a white cable knit beanie and a matching scarf.
She slips her phone into her fur-trimmed jacket and declares, “I feel like I’m being paranoid. ”
I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to.
The only reason I agreed is because I have questions as to who could have broken in and if she has a lead on anything at all.
I’ve got nothing and no one. There’s not a soul in the industry I’d trust with this information, sure as hell not with the cops on my ass for murder. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“James messaged me and said what happened to Tony could happen to me. He told me to lay off the demands for the divorce.” Her bottom lip quivers and again she glances over her shoulder.
“As in … an overdose?”
“I don’t know.” She takes a deep breath and looks to her left and right as her face crumples. “I think … I think he was threatening to kill me.”
Anger threads itself through me as the woman in front of me breaks down. “Are you all right?” She shakes her head.
“No,” she says and her voice cracks. “He didn’t really kill him, did he?”
“The coke was laced with enough fentanyl to kill an elephant and the cops are convinced it was intentional,” I tell her.
“I would say I don’t think James is capable of that,” Sam murmurs with sad eyes. As she speaks, her breath turns to fog. “But he’s done things before …”
“Things like what?”
“He’s choked me, thrown me against the wall. He’s threatened me in the past. But he’s never …” Her eyes become glossy as she says, “I didn’t think he would ever do it.”
“You think he killed Tony? Do you think the threat was a real one?”
She nods her head once, a frown marring her face as she gets choked up. “He said it was for you,” she speaks softly, her eyes flicking from me to the cars passing behind us. The chill of the breeze bites down to my bones as her words sink in.
It was James, and the coke was intended to kill me, not his client.
I don’t give her a response in the least, hiding the anger as my heart thuds hard in my chest at the confirmation of what I already suspected.
“What did I do?” I ask her.
“It’s because of me,” she says and her voice cracks.
“You didn’t do this.”
“You don’t understand,” she says, gaining more composure and wiping under her eyes as the wind whips between us and forces her hair behind her. “He wants me to give him everything in the divorce. The properties, our investments, the business, he’s not budging on any of it.”
“I thought it was finalized?”
She shakes her head and says, “I pushed back.” Her words come out hard. “He’s pushed me around for so long and he thought he could just get rid of me and throw me away like he did his first wife. But I made the company what it is today.”
“So why go after me?”
“To prove a point.”
“And what point is that?” I ask her.
“That he could eliminate whomever he wants.”
Anger narrows my gaze as I tell her, “He missed his shot.”
“He’ll do it again,” she says, “and I’m scared.”
“It’ll be all right,” I tell her although I’m not sure it will be. I’m already trying to figure out how to end this. All roads lead back to James and the only thing I need to know is the fastest and safest way to put that asshole six feet in the ground.
“Please help me, Evan,” she begs, and her voice is rife with agony. “I don’t know where to go or what to do.”
“The police,” I tell her and it’s the first time in my life I’ve ever thought of going to them. “You can tell them everything. Tell them he threatened you with that.”
“He has them in his back pocket,” she says bitterly then adds, “You know that. Did they tell you anything?”
I shake my head and say, “Only that the coke was laced enough to kill. It was made into a murder weapon.”
“Oh, God,” Samantha says then lets out a gasp and hunches forward slightly. I feel the need to put my arm out to steady her and she clings to me.
A moment passes in the wintry cold, where I think back to a few times we’ve gotten out of tight spaces. I thought a client here and there would go to trial, but they never did. I didn’t think it was because of James, though. I thought they didn’t have enough evidence.
“He’ll go down for what he did,” I assure her as one name and one face come to mind. Mason. Jules’s husband. He’s gotten off for murder, just last month. There’s more corruption in this city than there are tourists. Mason knows it as much as I do and I can trust him.
He killed his father, and everyone knows it. Well, the whispers in certain circles are sure of it.
He’s from a different world than me, but I know him from back in the day. Back when both of us were a little too eager to cut loose. I helped him out back then and never called in the favor I’m owed. I haven’t spoken to him since I split up a fight a few months ago.
He owes me for that too. And Mason’s the type of man who pays his dues.
“What are you going to do?” she asks. Samantha scoots closer to me, almost too close, and I take a step back.
“I know a guy,” I tell her and she’s quick to nod, but then her face falls.
“Shit,” she whispers, her eyes focused on something behind me and I whip my head around to see what she’s looking at.
“It was him,” she says then covers her mouth. “Shit,” she repeats with tears in her eyes.
“He can’t hurt you.” I turn around and keep an arm behind me to protect her. My eyes search the crowd, but I don’t see him.
Her hands tug at my arm, pulling me back to her. Her bright red lips glisten as she licks them and tells me, “He went down to the subway, but he saw us. I know he did. At least I think he did,” she says then closes her eyes tightly and takes a step back. “It was definitely him.”
“Is he following you?” Her eyes are still on the subway entrance and her body’s still as she holds her breath.
“I don’t know.” Her bright blue gaze flickers to mine as she says, “I’m scared, Evan.”
“You should go to the cops, Sam—” I start to tell her she needs to protect herself, and if she doesn’t trust the cops she can always hire private security, but she cuts me off.
“It’s not me. I’m not worried about me. If he thinks you know, you’re not safe.”
“I don’t care what he thinks. Or what he thinks I know.” I stare into her eyes as I tell her, “I’ll kill him before he touches either one of us again.”