“Watching is the operative word. He could have been making sure that he knew where we were to make his move.”
“To kill us,” I counter.
“To ensure I didn’t get in the way again.”
“But you did.”
“Yes, I did.”
“There’s no hitlist with the Kingston names on it?” I ask hopefully. “Are you sure?”
“No,” he answers, an honest answer I appreciate despite how much it sucks. “But,” he adds, “I think there are other more likely possibilities. Like my father was going to share information either Isaac or the mob didn’t want shared. Or Isaac needed a fall guy, and since you and I blew his plan to use us, he went after our father.”
I gape. “His own father? You think he’d kill his own father?”
He holds out his arm and presses my hand to the bubbled-up marks on his skin. The scars created by the boiling water Isaac poured over him in a fit of jealousy, and just the idea of a man doing that to his brother has me shivering. “He’s fucked up,” I whisper.
“Yes,” Eric murmurs. “He’s fucked up. As is this entire family. You know that.”
“Too well.” It’s a truth that stabs me in the heart. I looked the
other way too long. I let myself become a target. I can’t let my mother become one, too. No matter what that means. No matter how I have to fight back. “What’s next?” I ask, anger replacing fear and defeat. “I’m back to, how do we fight back? Because I’m sick and tired of this family turning my life upside down. They took my father’s company. They took my mother, by brainwashing her to their side. They took years of my life and they tried to end my life. Now they want you, too? No. They don’t get to take anything more.”
Eric’s hands come down on my face. “No. They don’t get to take anything more. We’re going to fight. We’re going to win.”
“How?” I repeat. “What’s next?”
“We wait and see what Isaac does next.”
“And if he does nothing?”
His hands settle on his hips. “A son who does nothing while his father is dying—that is something, not nothing.”
His phone buzzes with a text and he snakes his phone from his pocket, glancing at the message and cursing. “Grayson’s at the hospital.” He shoves his phone back into his pocket. “He’s trying to make himself a damn target for the press, the police, and anyone who wants to burn me.”
“Isn’t the Walker team watching over him?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point. He’s making their job harder.”
“He loves you the way Isaac was supposed to love you, Eric. Of course, he’s there. Of course, he doesn’t care about being a target. Just like I don’t care about anything right now but protecting you and my mother.”
“Grayson has an empire to protect and everyone inside that empire that depends on it for their livelihood.” He punches in an autodial on his phone and in what can’t be more than one ring, he says, “Blake, keep the press away from Grayson.” He listens a moment. “No. Not here. I’ll come there.” He pauses. “Yes. Fuck. I’ll bring her.” He disconnects. “They called Isaac. Walker still has eyes on him and we need to go to the hospital.”
“What was that about bringing me? Blake wants you to bring me with you?”
“Yes. I don’t want you in the middle of that mess at the hospital, but he’s right. I need you there.”
He needs me there. This statement would warm me if something didn’t feel off. I open my mouth to press him on that matter when my cellphone rings in my pocket and I remove it to glance down. “Gigi.” I look at Eric. “Gigi’s calling me.”
“Let it go to voicemail. We need to leave.”
I nod and shove the phone back inside my pocket. Eric snags my hand and we’re at the door in a blink. He yanks it open with Savage and Smith on the other side. “No news,” Savage says. “On anything, including your father’s condition.”
“What about Denver? Anything there?”
“Nothing,” Savage says. “All is quiet.”
“Then let’s get to the hospital,” Eric says.