Chapter 23 #2
“Take the night off,” Gray says. “No surveillance. I’ll assign someone else to do it. Go get drunk. Get laid. Do something other than torture yourself watching her live her life.”
I don’t respond. We both know I won’t listen. We both know that as soon as the sun sets, I’ll be back in my usual spot, watching over Kayla whether she wants me to or not. Because I can’t do anything else. Because I don’t know how to stop loving her.
* * *
“Nothing?” I lean over Hack’s shoulder, scanning the screen for something, anything he might have missed.
“There’s got to be something. Tax evasion?
Unpaid parking tickets? A library book he never returned in third grade?
” My fingers drum an impatient rhythm against the back of Hack’s chair as he sighs for what must be the tenth time in as many minutes.
A year and a half since the divorce, and I still can’t stand the idea of any man getting within ten feet of Kayla.
“For the last time, Roman,” Hack says, shoving my hand away from his keyboard, “Todd Grant is clean. Squeaky clean. So clean that if he was a floor you could eat off him. There’s nothing here.”
We’re currently in Hack’s domain, a tiny little room tucked away in the back of the clubhouse, a cramped space filled with monitors, towers, and enough tangled cables to make an electrician weep.
I’ve been hovering over him for nearly an hour, watching him run search after search on Kayla’s new boyfriend and growing increasingly frustrated.
“That’s impossible,” I insist, grabbing a spare chair and dragging it closer. “Nobody’s that clean. Besides, I’ve got a bad feeling about this guy. Dig deeper.”
Hack swivels in his chair to face me, his expression a mix of annoyance and pity. Neither sits well with me. “You just don’t like him because he’s dating Kayla. I’ve checked the guy out thoroughly. There’s nothing.”
I run a hand through my hair, frustration gnawing at my insides. “What about his job? Maybe he’s embezzling?”
“He works at his uncle’s Honda dealership,” Hack says flatly.
“Exactly! That’s suspicious right there! Nepotism. Probably is too much of a hack to get a job anywhere else.”
“You’re really reaching here Sullivan.”
“He’s probably a closet alcoholic. Gets drunk everyday at work and his Uncle covers up for him.”
Hack gives me a look that suggests he’s questioning my intelligence. “Well if we’re moving into the realm of fantasy, maybe we should look into the possibility that he’s actually the Zodiac killer. Or maybe the tooth fairy.”
I ignore that little dig and press on. “What about his family, where is from?”
Hack turns back to his computer with a long-suffering sigh.
“Born and raised in Utah. One of two kids. Father’s a high school principal, mother’s a nurse.
He graduated from the University of Utah with honors.
Father died years ago, mother moved to Billings a few years ago, probably to be closer to her daughter.
Todd came with her.” He gestures at the screen. “It’s all right here.”
“And you’re sure that hasn’t been doctored?” I press.
“Jesus Christ, Roman.” Hack throws up his hands. “What do you want me to tell you? That he’s secretly a serial killer? A Russian spy? The Pope? The guy is exactly what he appears to be; a used car salesman with no skeletons in his closet.”
I collapse back into my chair, a hollow feeling spreading through my chest. I had been thrilled when Kayla ended things with Kirby, the very perfect, very boring accountant. But somehow, Todd Grant is worse.
“There has to be something,” I insist, more to myself than to Hack. “I just need one thing, one reason to—“
I stop abruptly, catching myself before I can finish the thought.
Hack’s eyebrows rise. “One reason to what, Roman?”
“Well I’m just…I just want to make sure there isn’t any reason to be concerned about this guy,” I finish lamely. “He’s dating my ex-wife. I have a right to know who he is.”
“Uh-huh.” Hack’s tone makes it clear he’s not buying my explanation.
“Well, like I said, he’s clean. No criminal record, pays his taxes on time, probably calls his mom every Sunday.
” He scrolls through more information. “Oh, and he coaches his nephew’s Little League baseball team in his spare time. ”
I sit up straighter, staring hard at the family picture Todd recently posted on Facebook. “Nephew? Are we sure that’s his nephew?”
“Well…yes” Hack keeps scrolling. “Son of Jodie Small, Todd’s sister. It’s all right here.”
“See that’s suspicious,” I say, leaning forward. “Are we sure that’s actually his sister? They don’t look anything alike. Maybe that’s actually his secret wife and kid. Maybe he has families stashed all over the country. I’ve read about things like that.”
Hack turns to look at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Roman, are you drunk?”
“I’m just saying it’s weird,” I mutter, though even to my own ears, I sound ridiculous. “I’m telling you, I’ve got a bad feeling about this guy. He’s got skeletons somewhere.”
“Well you can go have bad feelings about the guy somewhere else. I’m done. Any further digging into this guy’s life is a waste of my time.”
I sink back into my chair again, sulking. Logically, I know Hack is right. But something about this guy makes me want to take him apart right down to the bones until I find out what I’m sure he’s hiding.
“What are we looking at?” Gray’s voice behind me makes me jolt. I hadn’t heard him approach.
“Roman’s latest background check on Kayla’s new boyfriend,” Hack replies before I can stop him.
Gray steps into the small room, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes flick from the screen to my face, his expression unreadable. “Find anything interesting?”
“The guy’s a Boy Scout,” Hack says. “Steady job. Close to his family. Coaches Little League. Roman thinks it’s all suspicious.”
Gray snorts. “Of course he does.” He moves closer, scanning the information on the screen. “Todd Grant. He looks dangerous all right.”
I glare at him, but Gray just shrugs, unfazed.
“He’s dating my wife,” I growl.
“Ex-wife,” Gray corrects mildly. “And from what I can see here, he seems like a decent guy who will probably treat her very well.”
I go back to sulking.
Gray reaches over and smacks the back of my head, not hard enough to hurt but enough to get my attention. “Hack isn’t going to find a reason for you to kill this guy either, Roman. Just like he didn’t with the vacuum cleaner. So stop bothering him.”
I rub the spot where he hit me, scowling. “I’m just looking out for Kayla.”
“No,” Gray says, his voice softening slightly. “You’re not. You’re looking for a way to stay connected to her. You’re looking for an excuse to keep her in your life, even though she’s made it clear she wants to move on.” He straightens, heading for the door. “Let her go.”
The hollowness in my chest expands until it feels like it might swallow me whole.
“You want me to keep looking?” Hack asks quietly.
I push myself to my feet, suddenly needing to be anywhere but here. “No. You’re right. He’s clean.”
As I follow him out of the room, Gray’s words echo in my head. Let her go. As if it were that simple. As if I hadn’t been trying to do exactly that for the past year and a half.
As if I had any idea how to exist in a world where Kayla isn’t mine.
* * *
Just over two years of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Two years of guarding Kayla every night, two years of searching for Demon and finally the threat materializes.
I was right all along. Not that being right brings any satisfaction; just a cold knot of fear for what this could mean for Kayla, and a burning desire to end this threat once and for all.
Gray stands beside me, his face a stone mask that reveals nothing.
The club’s VP has always been hard to read, but the tension in his shoulders tells me he’s as concerned as I am.
A group of Demon’s men were spotted near Redbird.
Most of them scattered when our men intercepted them, but we managed to grab one.
The big question now is whether he’ll talk, and whether what he says will finally give us the answers we’ve been searching for.
“You good?” Gray asks, his voice low.
“Fine,” I reply, though we both know it’s a lie. I won’t be “good” until I know Kayla is safe. Until Demon is no longer a threat. Until this whole nightmare that started with her kidnapping is finally over.
Dragon appears in the doorway, his expression grim. “Let’s go,” he says simply, before disappearing into the interrogation room.
I follow Gray inside, my eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. The room is sparsely furnished; a table, a few chairs, a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. It’s tucked away in the basement of the clubhouse, soundproofed and secure. Perfect for conversations that shouldn’t be overheard.
The man in front of me looks younger than I expected, his wrists zip-tied to the arms of the chair.
He’s got a split lip and the beginnings of a black eye, courtesy, no doubt, of whoever brought him in.
He’s glaring at us and what strikes me immediately are his eyes.
They are a familiar, eerie golden-green.
Dragon stops short, staring at the captive with a stunned expression.
“Finn?” The name escapes Dragon in a breath, barely audible.
The young man’s lip curls in a sneer. “Fuck you,” he spits, blood flecking his chin.
I glance between them, confusion momentarily displacing my concern for Kayla.
Dragon runs a hand over his face, suddenly looking older than his years. “Kit really dragged you into this?” he asks, his voice heavy with disappointment.
Finn just glares, his silence as hostile as his words.
Dragon turns away, pacing toward the far wall. I’ve never seen him this rattled, this uncertain. He’s always the calm one, the rock that anchors the rest of us. But now he seems almost lost.
“I need to know what’s going on, Finn,” Dragon says finally, turning back to face the captive. “I need to know where Kit is hiding.”
He just laughs, the sound harsh and bitter. “Kiss my ass, Henry. You don’t get to play the concerned big brother now.”
Big brother. I stare at the young man in the chair with new understanding. The resemblance is subtle but unmistakable now that I’m looking for it. It’s not just the eyes, it’s the shape of his jaw, his nose, that mirrors Dragon’s own features.
“What do you want to do?” Gray asks quietly. “I can apply some pressure, get him to talk.”
Dragon looks at Gray like he’s spouted a second head. “We’re not going to torture my brother.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, unable to help myself. “How many brothers do you have?”
Dragon turns his glare on me, and I raise my hands in a placating gesture. This isn’t the time or place for that particular line of questioning, no matter how curious I suddenly am about the Bryant family tree.
“Finn’s just a kid,” Dragon says, his voice low but intense. “Kit’s dragged him into something he doesn’t understand.”
“He doesn’t look like ‘just a kid’ to me,” I observe, glancing back at him.
Dragon’s jaw tightens, but before he can respond, Finn’s voice cuts through our hushed conversation.
“Hey, Viper,” he calls, a taunting edge to his words. “How’s the plant lady doing?”
I turn slowly, a chill creeping up my spine at the mention of Kayla. Finn’s lips curl into a smirk that reminds me so much of Demon it makes my blood run cold.
“I’m sure you’re doing a really good job keeping her safe this time, right?” he continues, his voice dripping with mock concern.
I take a step toward him, hands clenching into fists, but Gray’s firm grip on my arm stops me.
“Don’t,” he warns quietly. “It’s what he wants.”
I know Gray’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to resist the urge to wipe that smirk off the kids face. Instead, I focus on the more pressing concern; Kayla’s safety.
“I‘m going to check in with the men watching Kayla,” I tell Dragon, already moving toward the door.
Gray nods, his expression troubled. “Go. We’ll keep working on him. See if we can get any more information from him.”
“We’d have more luck asking for help from the devil himself,” Dragon mutters, his voice so low I almost miss it.
Deciding to just head over to Kayla’s myself, I stride through the clubhouse, barely resisting the urge to break into a run. I’ve spent two years preparing for this moment, two years waiting for Demon to make his move. And now that it’s happening, all I can think is that I can’t fail Kayla again.
Not this time. Never again.