Chapter 8
Leo
“Where the fuck arethey?” I mutter, checking the clock on my phone for the billionth time.
Chris and Hannah are never late, fucking never. They should have been here twenty minutes ago.
Annoyance surges inside me. I had half a mind to blow off this meeting already, and to spend the afternoon with Atlanta instead. The only reason I still came is because I want to be a better person for her, and what the three of us are doing is a step in that direction.
Most of the people in my organization like what we do, or at least see it as the only way. They’ve grown up in this life and they don’t know anything else. Even I didn’t have any other ideas until I met Chris last year when one of my guys found him hacking into our secure messaging system. Random luck, that’s all it was, Chris is better than any computer guy we have on payroll.
A fucking vigilante. That’s how he was described to me. I was supposed to kill him or at least break his legs to send a message.
But with sudden clarity, I saw another way.
I offered Chris a job.
And he laughed in my face. Told me to just do what I had to do and warned me that there were others out there, that the Brickhouse family was a target of some activist group or other. I liked that about him right away. He wasn’t afraid of me. Balls of fucking steel. It wasn’t until Hannah walked in that he changed his tune. The moment he saw her, he agreed to come work for me, and since then we’ve been making the kind of changes my father and grandfather would have murdered me for.
“Fuck it, this can wait,” I say as I stand and head for the door to the conference room. I need to get back to Atlanta, and if those two are wrapped up in each other’s arms somewhere then I can hardly begrudge them that.
Especially now.
As I step outside, my phone starts buzzing, and I grit my teeth. I check the screen, expecting to see Chris or Hannah lighting it up, but it’s not.
It’s Mike.
Who’s stationed outside my room—ourroom—and only calls if there’s a problem.
I hit the accept button so hard a crack opens up across the screen. “What?”
No answer. Just heavy breathing.
“Mike, what the fuck?”
“Boss...” A low groan, and my heart clutches so hard I think I’m going to keel over. I’m already breaking into a run, heading for the bank of elevators. “Fuck me... They...they took her. Too many, I tried...oh, fuck, I think I’m dying. I’m sorry, boss, I tried to stop them...too many.”
Fuck.
Motherfucking fuck. I slam the call elevator button, then slam it again and again. My mind is racing. What the fuck is going on here? And Chris and Hannah going AWOL? That can’t be a coincidence.
“I’m on my way to you now. I’m going to get you an ambulance, you’re not going to die. Who did this?” No answer. “Mike? Fuck.”
I hang up as the elevator doors finally slide open, and I step inside, giving the evil eye to a couple who are heading my way. Sensibly, they back off and wait for the next ride, as I tap my phone and call an ambulance. There will be questions, of course, but I can’t worry about that right now. Mike’s loyalty has cost him, and I’m going to repay that.
As soon as I reach the penthouse, I step outside to find carnage. Blood is smeared over the walls, puddles of it on the floor, and I have to close my eyes to stop imagining it’s hers. I’m no good to her in a panic. I have to stay calm and do what needs to be done.
“Mike?”
“Mr. Brickhouse. Over here.” His voice is weak, but I’m glad to find him alive. Part of me wondered if the only service I’d be able to do for him would be a funeral. “Sorry boss, I lost consciousness for a second there.”
He’s sprawled on the floor in front of the doors, which are hanging off their hinges.
“Who was it?” I ask as I crouch beside him, checking his injuries.
Amazingly, he seems to only have a couple of bullet holes, but one has ripped through his gut. I take off my jacket and bundle it, pressing it against the wound.
“Trevor,” he says, and I screw up my face, trying to place the name. “I killed him. They took him with them but he wasn’t breathing. I only got him I think.”