Chapter 11
eleven
CALDER
I want to take the blade out of my pocket and slice it through Reggie Campbell’s throat. This dinner idea was not something I wanted to do. I didn’t want to subject Emerie to his presence, but it was unfortunately a must. He claimed to want to see her.
The moment he spoke down to her about her outfit pissed me off.
Emerie could walk around in a brown paper sack, and I wouldn’t give a fuck.
She’s a grownass woman and can wear whatever the fuck she wants.
I’ve learned one thing about my wife, and that’s she loves all things Christmas.
She can’t get enough of it, and I can’t get enough of her.
Seeing her in the sweater dress she’s wearing right now, I couldn’t help but take advantage of lifting the bottom of it to her waist and enjoying her sweet body.
It’s the reason we’d been late arriving for dinner.
We were supposed to be here before Reggie, but when it comes to Emerie, I can’t keep my hands to myself.
That was on me, and we weren’t going to have him figure out we don’t live here.
Midway through dinner, Emerie looks to me and asks quietly, “I wanted to ask before I forget, but do you think my friends and I could have our yearly Christmas night at home? It’s my year to host, but if you don’t want me to, we can go to Patience’s or Skyler’s.”
She’s speaking of our home, but thankfully not making it obvious about where home was. She could have easily said at our house.
I glance at Grant, and he shrugs.
We’d already dug into her friends and knew they weren’t associated in any way with Reggie or any of his men.
“I don’t mind.” I’ll find a way to be away from the house that night. “What night are y’all doing it?”
“Christmas Eve. We do it every year. Have Christmas theme drinks, games, and so on.” She smiles and tells me about this year’s theme and how they’re going with the National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation theme and making spiked eggnog and drinking out of moose-head glasses like in the movie.
“You guys could all join in too if you would like,” she says, glancing around to Grant and his brothers.
“We always make enough food for the fun.”
“How about we have it catered?” I suggest, seeing the look in my wife’s eyes. She wants me there, meaning I was going to have to endure the night I typically make my last kill.
Fuck.
“I think we can all make it work,” Grant says. “Catering would be easier for all of you to have more time to have fun.”
“Oh, no, please don’t cater.” Emerie laughs lightly, looking at Grant.
“We love doing it ourselves. Plus, I think Skyler would have a fit, considering she loves cooking. She runs a catering business, in fact, and we always make plenty. A lot of times, we use Christmas Eve, and well, any other time we do gatherings to test out new ideas. She’s already created a whole menu for it and was even making a cake that looks like the dried-up turkey in the movie. ”
“This Skyler chick sounds interesting.”
“I don’t know why you hang out with that woman or any of the others you spend time with. They’re low-class women who are only around you for money.” Reggie snarks.
Emerie stiffens and looks to her father with such hatred.
“They are not. I’ve been friends with them all since school.
We’re close, and they have never once asked for a penny.
Skyler opened her own catering business and started it out of her home before ever expanding and finding a place to work out of.
Patience worked as a stripper while paying for college to become a doctor, and didn’t want to have to deal with college loans.
Now, she’s one of the leading doctors at the children’s hospital.
Maggie is a successful event planner. She put together this year’s gala for the mayor.
And Litzy has made a remarkable name for herself with her voice acting and being a narrator. ”
Seems my wife has no problem standing up for her friends against her father.
“So, don’t sit there and look down on them because they’ve all made lives for themselves and didn’t have a silver spoon in their mouths. I, in fact, admire them for the lives they’ve worked so hard for.” Emerie huffs, her cheeks are flushed and her body tense.
If we’d been alone, I might have thrown her over my shoulder, taken her to a room, and fucked her. Hell, for that matter, I would have put her on the table and done it right here.
Reggie blusters and looks ready to go off on Emerie, but Grant speaks first.
“I’ll look forward to meeting these friends of yours. Maybe we can even speak to Maggie and Skyler about working a few events we hold ourselves,” he suggests.
Emerie smiles brightly and nods. “They would be more than happy to help, I’m sure of it.”
Grant nods and changes the subject once more, speaking to Reggie, distracting him.
Leaning into my wife, I whisper in her ear, “You standing up for your friends like you did has me ready to fuck you, Bellissima.”
I pull back enough in time to watch as her breath catches and her fingers curl into a fist, clenching her dress. Yeah, she likes the idea too.
We finish dinner, and Grant stands first, looking to Reggie. “Shall we go to my office to discuss further business?”
Reggie glances at the watch on his wrist, his lips give a small twitch before he stands as well. “Yes, that will be good.”
I follow suit, not liking the idea of this man being here any longer. Something’s up, and my gut is screaming at me that we don’t need to be in Grant’s office. More than that, we don’t need him here any longer.
Planting my hands on the table, I lean forward marginally. “What are you up to, Reggie?” I demand.
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I’ve done nothing wrong,” Reggie states tersely.
“He’s lying,” Emerie whispers, so softly I’m not even sure I hear her right.
My gut has to agree with her on that. He’s lying.
I glance at Grant as I straighten. My job was to make sure nothing happened to him, and I wasn’t about to see anything go down now. Not when I’ve always been one to trust my gut instincts.
Reggie was using Emerie as a decoy to get in here. To get to Grant. I know it. Grant knows it. We knew from the beginning that Reggie didn’t want an alliance. He’s always been money and power hungry.
When Reggie’s eyes slice back to his daughter, I suppose he may have heard what she said.
“Emerie, how about you join us in the family room,” Granger suggests, coming to his feet on the other side of my wife.
I meet his gaze and nod, appreciating him for doing this.
I knew without a doubt that Emerie was safe with Granger and the others.
Granger himself would make sure nothing happened to her.
He’s been fighting underground fights for a few years now, along with Gentry.
The two of them get off on the fights. They could easily go pro, but they refuse to do it.
Emerie looks to me, and I give her a slight nod. Her eyes speak volumes in not wanting to leave me, but thank fuck she trusts me. It’s there in the way she gets up without words and goes with Granger and Gentry. Gabriel stays behind to join our party.
With my wife out of the room, I return my attention to Reggie. “All right, Reg, what game are you playing at?”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to accuse me of, but I’m here only for the alliance,” Reggie snaps, hands going to his wide waist. He might think it makes him seem intimidating, but he doesn’t scare me or anyone else in this room.
He more or less looks like a red-faced Smurf the way he’s standing there.
Done with his bullshit, I stalk around the table, grip the lapels of his suit jacket, and jerk him toward me.
“Don’t bullshit us, Reg. We know you better than you think we do.
You’ve been up to something from the start of this.
You married your daughter off for a reason, and it ain’t for no alliance.
You trying to pull some Tristan and Isolde shit here, aren’t you? ”
Granted, it wasn’t exactly like the story, but it held similarities that don’t sit well with me. Only the Devore brothers know that I’m a history buff. I like reading it and watching documentaries about it when I actually do have time to do anything else.
The reason I enjoy it so much is due to so many things happening that seem to be repeated or used as inspiration. I like to be able to see through the bullshit before it gets to be too much and we’re left up shit’s creek without a paddle.
Hell, last year, for shits and giggles, Grant gave me the Art of War book at Christmas just to fuck with me. It was a first edition and now sits on a shelf for display in my office.
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Reggie blusters and looks to Grant. “You’re going to allow your man to disrespect me as he is? I’m a guest in your house.” His eyes come to me, and he sneers. “Maybe I should have the marriage to you annulled for my daughter.”
“It wouldn’t work,” I tell him, feeling my anger growing. I won’t allow him or anyone else to take Emerie from me. “She’s my wife and won’t be leaving me. I doubt you’d even be able to convince her of such a thing.”
Emerie was mine, and I’ll protect her from this asshole and anyone else who might try to come between us or take her away.
“Calder,” Grant calls, and I glance at him. “Let’s continue this in your office instead of mine. No reason for Emerie to walk back in and witness what happens next.”
I grin at him, liking the idea of going to my office. “Yeah, we can do that.”
My office outside the one at home, or the one in one of our office buildings, wasn’t exactly an office per se.
It’s more of a room beneath the house that was encased in cinder blocks and held all of the tools of my trade.
My men use the room when necessary. Typically, we did our business away from the house.
But it’s here for moments like this one.
Especially for moments like this.
Best damn gift Grant could give me.
Letting go of Reggie’s suit jacket, I grab his arm and motion him in the direction of Grant’s office. To get to mine, you have to go into his and through an entrance setup like the one at my house.
With Reggie in front of me and Grant behind, I usher the older man into the office. Grant closes the door behind him, and through Reggie’s shouts, I pull him to the hidden doors.
Before I can get the doors open, the window behind Grant’s desk is shattered. Unlike mine, his windows aren’t bulletproof as they should be.
Fuck. I shove Reggie away and move for Grant. The lights are cut, and all hell breaks loose.
This is what Reggie was planning all along.
“You didn’t think I’d actually allow my whore of a daughter to stay with the likes of you?” Reggie cackles.
“Fucker is a dead man,” Grant snarls low enough for only me to hear. The tone is icy and filled with rage—the very same coursing through my veins.
“They all are,” I tell him just as quietly.
In the darkened room, I count the number of bodies filling it.
It doesn’t matter how many came through the broken window, they’ll all die before I let them out of this room.
“Emerie’s only job was to cause a distraction, and it seems she couldn’t do something as simple as being a frivolous bimbo, spread her legs, and be the whore her mother taught her to be.”
At Reggie’s words, I want nothing more than to rip his goddamn tongue out.
It’ll have to wait as I take out the rest of his men first. I’ll leave him for last if I can manage it.
Pulling one of my knives out from behind my waist, where I keep it tucked in my suit jacket, I pull the other from the strap around my leg.
“You go left, I’ll go right. No one leaves this room,” Grant orders.
“No one leaves this room.” I agree with a sharp nod.
Reggie keeps making taunting remarks about how he intends to rule over the Devores and take everything they enjoy. That wasn’t going to happen. Not in this lifetime.
One by one, I move through the room, silently finding each of his men. A few put up a fight. Some don’t. I know I’m covered in blood and don’t give a shit. I’ll bathe in their blood if it means they all die.
Each man falls, and I kick past the few on the floor to get to Reggie.
“You little leprechaun fuck,” I snarl, finding his neck in the dark easily and gripping it, shoving him against the wall he was trying to hide against when he realized that his men failed him and were all dead.
They were incapable of fulfilling an order.
Not that they would have been able to. “Tell me, why I shouldn’t just gut you here and now? ”
“Emerie will never forgive you if you kill her only living family,” Reggie croaks out, barely.
“My wife has plenty of family now and doesn’t need you in her life.” I sneer, running the knife still in my hand along his cheek and down to his big belly. “She’ll be perfectly happy without you around.”
“Calder,” Grant calls, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s take him to your office, tuck him away in a cell. We’ll deal with him after we handle making sure the rest of the house is secure.”
Grinding my teeth, I nod. I don’t like it, but I’ll feel slightly better once I set eyes on Emerie.