54 - Peyton
PEYTON
The ballroom emptied in layers, calm and controlled. It wasn’t because people weren’t scared. On the contrary; I could see in their eyes, they were absolutely terrified.
No. They moved slowly because people this rich and powerful never, ever ran.
They didn’t know how, because they never had to.
They had in the shadows. They had lawyers who took care of them, whenever things threatened to go sideways.
And so they filed out with cool efficiency, withdrawing with as much dignity as they had left.
Clusters broke apart. Voices were kept low.
Phones were tucked back into pockets, or held tightly against ears so that no one else could overhear.
No one even looked at us as we broke into the hallway. Colson clasped my hand, leading me forward. Ripley followed like a shadow, closing the space behind me.
“You good?” he asked, huddled around me like a cloak.
“Better than ever.”
“You were fucking fantastic back there,” he pressed. “You know that?”
“Thanks,” I answered, unable to suppress a smile. “Now can we get the hell out of here?”
We continued on, passing security units that were moving in all different directions. Confusion had set in. The hired guards were breaking ties with Donovan’s men, who weren’t sure what the hell to do next.
“Everything’s collapsing,” Colson called back. “Way faster than I expected it to.”
I took the earpiece out because Theo wasn’t there anymore. He was right there ahead of us, looking excited to find us all together.
“Is it done?” Colson asked.
“It’s all over,” said Theo. “Accounts, drained. Data dumped. Everything we talked about, sent to the press.”
“Good,” said Colson. “What about loose ends?”
“There are none,” said Theo.
“You sure?”
“Not when it comes to Donovan,” he confirmed. “No.”
We stopped at the foyer, sticking close to the wall. People swirled past us, as we stood in the wreckage of the bomb we’d just dropped.
And then suddenly, there was a shift in the air. A presence that had me turning and searching for something; the next threat, perhaps.
That something was Roman.
He stood there in a dark jacket, perfectly cut to his V-shaped form. His button-down shirt was flawless. His tie, pin straight.
Colson and Ripley moved in tandem, stepping in on either side of me. But Roman had no interest in me, or even them. His eyes were locked solely on Theo.
“That was… efficient,” he said, not even attempting to hide the admiration in his voice.
Theo didn’t answer him, other than to adjust his glasses.
“A little messy,” Roman went on. “But contained.”
“That was the deal,” Colson cut in.
“Yes it was,” Roman agreed. “Part of it, anyway.”
The crowd was finally thinning out. Most of it consisted of hotel staff now. They were milling around aimlessly, trying to figure out what came next.
“Give me the drive,” demanded Roman.
It wasn’t a threat. He didn’t raise his voice in the slightest.
Still, there was a deadly tension that accompanied those four simple words.
“And if we don’t?” asked Ripley.
“Then things get unnecessarily complicated,” said Roman.
“Complicated is something we know,” laughed Ripley. “We’re used to it by now.”
“Nevertheless,” Roman said, shaking his head. “You’ll only get one chance at this.”
He held out his hand, palm open. His arm was steady.
“Our agreement was clear. Donovan falls. Everything else stays buried.”
Theo stepped forward, clearing his throat.
“And if I’ve already copied everything?”
“You have,” Roman said, without missing a beat.
They stared at each other for a few long seconds, during which nothing was said. But at the same, the silence said everything.
“Possession is different from potential,” said Roman, “but it’s also non-negotiable. Hand me the drive, and this ends here. Before it becomes… something else.”
At this point, Colson moved in. He stepped toe to toe with his ex-protégé, staring the man down without a hint of fear.
“This is it, then,” he growled firmly. “No more messages. No more visits.”
“No messages,” Roman repeated. “No visits. My people are satisfied.”
“And no one comes looking for us,” Ripley added from behind them. “Ever.”
Begrudgingly, Roman shifted his gaze to the big fighter. Very slowly, he nodded.
“Ever.”
Theo tilted his head, slightly. “Because if they do…”
Roman flinched, visibly. He regained control a few seconds later, by adjusting the cuff of his outstretched sleeve.
Nothing else needed to be said. Theo reached into his pocket and produced the tiny drive. The moment he’d placed it into Roman’s hand, his fingers closed around it.
“Very good,” he said simply. “We’re done here, then.”
“We’re done everywhere,” Colson reiterated. “Remember that.”
Roman paused, looking back at him one last time. His eyes shifted to each of us in turn, before finally lingering on me.
“Your restraint was noted,” he said, tipping his chin.
Then he left, walking casually away.
We watched him go, disappearing past the swarm of reporters and photographers that were making their way inside again. Sirens blared, somewhere in the distance. They grew louder. Closer.
“Ah, they’re here,” said Theo. “About damn time.”
Colson and Ripley shared the same confused expression. So did I.
“Who is?”
The question was rhetorical. Police swarmed in a few moments later, moving with purpose. They fanned out through the hotel hallways, pushing past the stragglers still wandering, stunned, from the events of the ballroom.
Theo motioned us together, then leaned in closer.
“Nailing Donovan legally and financially was one thing,” he explained. “And those charges will land a few days from now. But there were other things on that drive, too. Things that I… well… I didn’t really show you.”
“What kinds of things?” pressed Ripley. He looked a little uncertain.
“Bad things,” Theo said grimly. “Monstrous things.”
His pretty eyes were sorrowful, now. It scared me worse than being up on that stage.
“The kinds of things that get you arrested immediately,” said Theo, his voice low and almost broken. “Once the police are alerted to them.”
There was a commotion as the crowd behind us suddenly parted.
And then there he was: Donovan, head down, shuffling slowly forward.
He had his wrists secured behind his back, and a NYPD officer looped through each arm.
The worst part however, was the look in his eyes.
Those darting eyes were absolutely feral; like an animal searching for a way out.
Not yet realizing that he had been hopelessly trapped.
He was babbling something incoherently, and barking orders to his once-subordinates. But Donovan’s voice no longer held any command. It was angry, sharp, desperate. And for once in his life, no one would even look at him.
Walking past us, his eyes shifted to me. At long last, I saw recognition there. Not only of what he’d lost with me, but of everything else he was about to lose.
He said nothing as they led him through the grandiose doors of the hotel, where he was met by another storm of camera flashes and shouted questions from the press. A few moments later he was in the back seat of a cruiser, and then finally, gone.
And just like that, it was over. I stood there with Ripley’s hand, lightly resting on my back. With Colson’s fingers, interlaced with mine. Theo leaned into me, smiling down, looking proud and happy and wholly in love.
We’d weathered the storm together, the four of us.
And nothing had broken us apart.