Chapter 18
Aron
Just when I think we might be totally fucked, Matt’s men back off.
I watch as they get back in their cars, start the engines, and drive away, totally perplexed by their sudden about-face.
Did Matt get to a phone and call off the assault?
It would be great for us if he did, but I know from experience that there will be repercussions for changing his mind in such a big power play.
His Syndicate officers will see this as an act of weakness, and I worry for his safety when he gets back to them.
I hope Matt didn’t just sacrifice his own life to save ours.
Once the Syndicate cars are gone, Emily brings Maria back out of the van. “That was weird,” she says with a frown. “Is it a trap?”
“I don’t know.” And I really don’t. Matt could do just about anything at this point. I’ve lost the ability to read him well enough to predict his moves, which saddens me. Before this got crazy, the trust between us allowed for the kind of communication that didn’t require words.
A phone buzzes in Emily’s pocket, and she hands Maria to me so she can answer. Emily walks a few paces away, just out of earshot, nodding and muttering at sporadic intervals.
There’s a large amount of trust lost with my wife, too. I never used to care who she talked to on the phone or what she did when I was at work with Matt, but now? Now, I barely trust her to take care of our daughter when I’m present.
After a few minutes of hushed conversation, she hangs up and giggles like a fiend, twirling in a circle on the driveway.
“Oh, Aron, I have such good news!”
I’m almost afraid to ask. “What is it?”
“Uh-uh!” she says in a creepy singsong voice. “It’s a surprise.”
Great. More secrets. Just what I needed. I place Maria in Emily’s arms and rub my temples as a massive headache settles in. After the night I’ve just had, I could use a stiff drink.
“What next, boss?” One of Emily’s guards, a man who goes by the simple moniker of “King,” holsters his gun as he looks to me for guidance.
That’s right; I’m in charge. I forget sometimes.
“We need to relocate. Matt’s hackers have probably found all our hideouts by now.
We have to liquidate everything at those locations and start over.
” I turn to Enrique, who automatically pulls out his phone and starts typing.
“I want a new headquarters found and purchased within the hour. Nothing too elaborate; just someplace large enough to accommodate our core officers and their families, if they have them.”
He stops typing and casts a confused glance my way. “Uh, Don Aron, we already have a place like that. It’s—”
The flat of Emily’s palm collides with his face, cutting him off. “I said it’s a surprise!”
I should be shocked and appalled by her violence, but honestly, I just want to rest. Exhaustion weighs heavily on me, causing my shoulders to slump and my lids to droop.
Not exactly the best look for a don who’s supposed to be on constant alert, but I can’t help it.
“Well, then, let’s get to this surprise location and regroup.
Spread the word down the chain of command, and for God’s sake, be cautious.
We don’t know how far Matt’s ears reach. ”
Emily waves a dismissive hand. “We don’t have to worry about Matt.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Em, what are you talking about?”
She shrugs. “You’ll see.”
This surprise of hers is sounding less and less like the good news she claims it to be. I’d sneak away to call Matt, but idiot asshole that I am, I smashed his phone. There’s no way to contact him right now.
“Whatever.” I straighten and run a hand through my hair to smooth it down. “Let’s just go to this surprise site and get it over with. We all could use a good rest.”
We pile into our cars—Emily and Maria with me and King, the other guards taking the van—and drive off. I let Enrique take the lead, since he apparently knows where this surprise location is.
The drive is longer than I expected. I veer slightly out of my lane several times, barely able to keep my eyes open.
Finally, Enrique turns down a dirt road that’s so well hidden by trees I almost miss it.
I don’t quite understand where we’re going, though.
From what I recall about the area outside the city, this is all farmland for miles.
Did Emily buy an abandoned farm for our next base of operations?
Granted, Matt’s less likely to expect it, but still … a farm?
Sure enough, an hour later Enrique pulls up to a large gate centered in an expansive wooden fence.
Above the gate is a rusty metal sign declaring this to be “Lone Empire Farms.” Normally, I’d chastise Emily for choosing a place with such an obvious name, but I’m too tired right now.
I just want to get inside the fucking farmhouse and go to bed.
The dirt road turns to gravel inside the gate, and the rock surface crunches under the weight of our tires. I try to drive slowly, but the jostling wakes Maria anyway. She whimpers and starts crying, and Emily shushes her.
At least the farm doesn’t smell like one.
Whoever owned Lone Empire Farms before must’ve long since left, taking any livestock with them.
There’s neither a cow nor horse in sight, and the fields are overgrown with tall, wiry grass and thick weeds.
I make a mental note to have someone tend to that, as it would make it too easy for Syndicate trespassers to hide from any surveillance the farm might have.
In the distance, around a curve in the drive, I finally see the farmhouse. It’s impressive, more modern than I expected, with crisp white walls, a wraparound porch, and a roof lined with solar panels.
There are already several Empire vehicles parked on the front lawn. A few associates stride from their cars to the front door, vanishing inside.
I figured we’d park in front as well, but instead, Enrique turns towards the massive barn behind the house.
The barn looks big enough to store our entire fleet of cars and still have room left over for gym facilities and a few interrogation rooms. I wonder what the previous owners did with such a huge barn. Surely it wasn’t just for horses …
Glancing up at the rearview, I catch Emily’s eyes in the mirror. “Why are we going to the barn?”
“For your surprise.”
I’m getting really sick of this surprise talk. Why can’t she just tell me? What in the fucking hell could be in there that’s so damned special?
The van eases to a halt by the large barn door at the end of the building.
I pull up next to it and get out, helping Emily get Maria out of the car seat before following Enrique and the other guards inside.
Emily walks at my side, easily matching my gait despite her shorter stride.
She seems extra eager to show me whatever’s in the barn.
With her post-fake death mania and wild delusions, I can’t tell if it’s a good surprise or a bad one.
She acts as though it’s something I’ll enjoy, but her twisted mind has different ideas than mine of what’s enjoyable.
Inside, the barn’s high ceilings are outfitted with bright fluorescent lighting, illuminating the interior.
Rows of stalls, each big enough for a car, line the sides of the barn, while a long corridor between leads to a closed door at the other end.
Judging from the length of the interior versus the appearance of the exterior barn, I’m guessing there’s a room behind that door.
Everything in the barn, despite the apparent age of the front gate, looks new and in good repair. As we pass the stalls, I glance inside a few and see that they’re being used for storage. Weapons. Drugs. Medicine. Bandages. Mundane supplies. Food. Just about anything the Empire could use or sell.
As we near the room at the other end, Emily practically vibrates with excitement. She goes from walking beside me to skipping and humming a little tune. I don’t know why, but her giddiness fills me with dread.
King reaches the door first, and he looks back to us before he opens it. The expression on his face is grim, the polar opposite of Emily’s.
I was right; whatever’s in there, it’s something I’m not going to want to see.
Step by step, I approach the door. King stands out of the way, and Emily takes my hand, practically dragging me inside.
The room is large, with slatted wooden walls and a high ceiling.
Another door sits in the far wall, likely leading outside, and more fluorescent lights cast an eerie glow on a pair of figures in the center.
One, a woman, stands with her back to this door, wearing a crisp, tailored suit with her silver-streaked blonde hair tied back in a severe bun.
She stands over a figure on the ground, a male in rumpled clothes, his arms and legs tied with rope.
He’s curled into a ball with his back to us, so I can’t see his face.
I can’t see his face, but I’d recognize him anywhere, anytime.
No … It can’t be …
Matt rolls over to face us. He’s bleeding at the temple, like someone pistol-whipped him to knock him out.
His eyes rotate up to look at the woman, and they widen to near perfect circles as shock and recognition set in.
He gapes like a fucking fish for several moments before finally finding his voice.
“Mom?”
… to be concluded in Vicious Crown …