Chapter 24 #2
Dale leans back, her expression far away. “He just came to my room. Not drunk. Not angry. Just…tired. He sat on the edge of my bed and said nothing for a while. Then he looked at me and said, ‘You belong to me.’”
The words hang in the air between us as we sit in the silence. Brown eyes on green, unwavering as we share the moment.
“What did you say?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“I didn’t say anything,” Dale murmurs.
She looks back at the fire, like she has more to say, but is holding back for my sake.
“I hate this,” I murmur, staring into my glass like it might give me an answer. “Not knowing where Ford is. Or what Hayden’s doing.”
Dale nods, curled up beside, her blanket pulled to her chin. “I keep telling myself Ford’s fine. That he’s Fordham Huntington-Russell, for God’s sake, but it’s not helping.”
I glance at her. “Being in love is almost too much to bear, isn't it?”
She hesitates. Then exhales slowly. “Ford’s arrogant, but he’s not untouchable. And whoever has Ford means they’re capable of something awful.”
“I just need them to walk through that door,” I whisper. “I don’t even care if Hayden yells at me for disobeying. I just want to hear his voice.”
Dale shifts closer and rests her head against my shoulder. “I know. Me too. I want Ford back. Both of them.”
We sit like that, pressed together beneath the weight of worry, watching the fire burn lower. And even though the room is warm, I can’t stop shaking.
Hayden Herron
The tires scream against the pavement as I push the car harder, faster, the engine growling under the weight of my rage.
I should have seen it. I do not hit dead ends, yet everywhere I turned, there was one.
It didn’t matter how much money I threw at the problem or how many high-tech security experts I brought in; nothing worked.
The truth was right there all along. A problem that didn’t exist could never be solved, and this was a Brotherhood problem. I should have known they had him.
I should have known Ford was with the Brotherhood all along.
It seems almost absurd now. When I met with Ford and Dex, it was clear they were grappling with a problem they intended to solve creatively, yet I never stopped to consider how deeply the Brotherhood was entwined in their situation.
Now it is obvious that a faked death was clearly part of a larger assignment.
And all along, I had been under the assumption that we were operating under the radar.
That Ford and Dex’s deaths were a personal choice in a plot to rid themselves of their father.
And while Dex may have been collateral damage, Ford’s death wasn’t real at all.
Of course, the Brotherhood’s deeper involvement had been unfolding right under my nose in only the way the Brotherhood could.
The twins went to the Brotherhood for permission to kill their father, something that had turned out to be a bit more complicated than they had anticipated.
Henri Huntington-Russell had been wrapped up in dark shit, and the Brotherhood made the tough decision that, although he was a Legacy, he needed to be eliminated.
The moment you’re no longer trusted, you’re gone.
The twins had a plan, and when they asked for my help in exchange for their sister, I recognized that manipulation was at play.
I could sense the edges of it—the careful weaving of a scheme designed to pull me in, but my pride and ego kept me from pressing for the truth.
I didn’t ask the right questions. My obsession with their sister had narrowed my vision until I could see nothing beyond her.
Every calculated move, every whispered conversation, every subtle shift in their behavior became irrelevant next to the thought of claiming her.
Knowing the truth might have been critical later, a key that could have changed the course of what came next, but I led with ego, measuring my days only by how close I was to having her.
“Why the mausoleum?” Hudson asks from the passenger seat, disrupting my train of thought. His voice too calm for my taste, or for the rage exploding through my body.
Archie leans forward from the back. “You think he’s hiding out there? I mean, c’mon man, I’m here to help, but there’s a lot of holes here that need filling.”
I don’t answer right away. My hands are locked around the steering wheel, knuckles white, the bone in my right thumb screaming where it connected with Douglass’s jaw.
“There were never loose ends,” I snap. “Not with Ford or Douglass. It always ties back to the Brotherhood. The twins faked their death to have a clean kill on Henri. There were all of these odd contingencies with the inheritance, and I remember Ford saying it was the only way. So I helped them.”
Because I did, my security team took Henri out with one simple handshake. My wife for a bullet.
Hudson goes quiet. Archie slumps back into his seat with a sigh.
If I hadn’t been so consumed with her, I would have seen. I would have known.
“It was never a loose end; it was clean from the start. They have Ford. I know they do because I helped put him there,” I growl, with little more than instinct to support my theory, yet confident enough to stake everything on it.
If I am going to fix this mess for my wife, I have to be willing to burn through every barrier until I reach him.
It’s not that Ford is unsafe in their grasp; it’s that my wife needs him more than the Brotherhood, and I’ll do anything to make that happen for her.
The wheel jerks in my grip as I take the turn sharply, tires lifting slightly before thudding back down. My jaw is tight enough to ache, my chest burning with the need to be two places at once.
I need to get back to her.
Martine.
She’s alone at the estate, still technically at risk from the Brotherhood.
Vulnerable. Probably doing precisely what I told her not to do.
But I can’t turn around. I have to fix this.
I have to finish what I started. I have to bring Ford home, for her sake.
If I walk through the door without him, I’ll see it in her face—that flicker of hope dying in her eyes.
And I will not let her break.
“I don’t get it,” Archie says. “If Ford is alive…what’s the endgame? And where the hell is Dex?”
Hudson glances over at me and follows, “Yeah, what the fuck happened?”
I don’t answer right away. My grip tightens on the wheel, the leather biting into my palms. My knuckles are already bruised, blood crusted along the edge of one from Douglass.
“They made a decision to end their father, and in exchange for permission, they committed to something with the Brotherhood,” I say flatly.
“I think Ford agreed to complete some testing, sort of like a special training, in exchange for permission to end their father. I’ve heard of the Legacy members requiring a deeper training than regular Bonesmen.
I just didn’t think about it enough to see what was right in front of me. For Dex—I’m not too sure.”
“So the twins really did kill their father?” Hudson presses.
“Yes,” I growl, jaw clenching. “Technically, I did, in exchange for their sister. I think their Legacy status made them more important, and they needed leverage to ensure the estate was passed over to Martine. Martine was my contingency for helping them get rid of Henri.”
I gulp in some air before I can continue, speeding down a twisting back road to make it to Eulogia. If Ford were forced to fake his death by the Brotherhood and undergo brutal training, there would have been an insurance plan in place.
“But she was also the Brotherhood's contingency for allowing the twins to murder their Father. This testing, if he failed, if he broke. If he tried to run, then she was the soft place they could strike. His little sister was the threat against him. They would hurt her if he didn’t stay in line.”
Hudson’s voice sharpens. “So you’re saying Ford chose this? Chose to go through with the training? What even is the training?”
I nod once. “I’ve heard of this happening.”
The more I delved into Martine’s family, the more I discovered.
Yet, all I could do was become consumed by the knowledge of Martine, overlooking the information I was uncovering about the family's history and plans. Martine’s father and uncle underwent a similar special ops training to turn them into the perfect members of the Brotherhood.
“He let them strip him down to nothing—because as long as they had him, they wouldn’t come for her. I took a huge risk taking her for myself.”
I slam the wheel with the side of my fist, heat flaring behind my eyes as I reach for another cigarette.
I should have seen this.
I was taunted with a training of my own once.
Once they sought out the leverage that came with my name, they extended an invitation into the Brotherhood with a promise of more—the more being a profound, focused, specialized dedication to my membership—a training of my own.
When I expressed disinterest, they moved on.
Not interested in forcing a member into special ops who didn’t share the desire.
I have to find Ford for Martine, because that’s the only twin I know I can get for her.
I have to fix this for her. I have to bring her brother home, even if it means forcing the Brotherhood to end his training early.
Even though it was his choice, even though it was an exchange for something more, my wife knowing Ford is out there would be too much for her.
She needs him, and I’ll stop at nothing to get her what she wants.
Besides, I’m still dealing with the contingency of marrying her myself.
I never should have taken her away from Archie, and yet I was so selfish that nothing could have kept me from having her, even if it meant putting her at risk with the Brotherhood.
I need to end this contingency now, before they come for her once and for all.