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Park? I was pretty sure I’d read his name somewhere in a file — someone close to Marcus Holden. An enforcer, maybe?
He’d sent an enforcer after me?
On one hand, I could play this to my advantage. If he was going to take me straight to Marcus, there was no need for me to involve Jayce at all. I could just go, take him out, and be done with this damn job.
On the other hand —
“I don’t think so. Why don’t you go back to my dad and tell him I’ll bring Clay once he’s settled?”
I peeked around Jayce’s shoulder to see the man smile. “I was kind of hoping you’d say that. You’re too cocky, Jayce. He brought you in off the street like a little stray and elevated you above all of us. What makes you so special?”
Off the street — that confirmed what I suspected. I hadn’t found records of Jayce Holden because he wasn’t biologically Marcus’ son. It made sense, and it helped me understand the anger in front of me. I’d never suspected resentment in the Holden ranks. Any time we’d looked into them, they seemed like a unified force. It was what made them so hard to catch, so hard to kill.
But this…
“Fuck off, Park. Even if I weren’t here, you’d still just be a lapdog.” Jayce crossed his arms, and it made the fabric of his loose black sweater pull tight across his lower back so I could see the outline of a gun. “Get the fuck out of here and run home. Go on.”
Park kept the gun leveled at Jayce’s chest. “Move, Jayce.”
“No.” The answer came immediately.
“Fine. Have it your way.” Park smirked just as I felt something cold touch the back of my neck.
A knife.
A second man.
I’d been so focused on the gun pointed at Jayce’s chest that I hadn’t noticed the man sneaking up behind me.
There was a low, rumbling growl — it took me a second to realize it was coming from the man in front of me.
He moved without warning, and the blade at my neck went flying up — my would-be attacker’s elbow was snapped at the joint, and Jayce didn’t give him time to scream before he caught the knife and slammed it home in his throat.
The movement twisted his body — just slightly.
Just enough that Park aimed his gun at me.
“Fuck.” I threw my hands up. “Don’t. I’ll go with you —” It was better this way. I could finish my job, and…
I didn’t have to keep speaking to see it in the man’s eyes. He didn’t care if I wanted to go with him.
He wanted to hurt me, because it was obvious now from Jayce’s reaction that it was a way to hurt him.
A shot rang out, muffled with the silencer on the end of the tapered barrel.
“Clay… are you okay?” Jayce’s eyes were wide, and it took me a second to realize he’d moved.
He was in front of me again, and he’d pushed me out of the way.
Then he swayed, and blood was blossoming from his side where he’d shifted to shield me from the bullet.
Behind me, Park let out a low oh fuck…
He didn’t realize worrying about what Jayce’s father would think was a moot point. He wasn’t going to get that far.
“Just… fuck. Jayce. Hold on, okay?” I pushed him back toward the parking barrier, but my ears were already roaring with blood — my vision was slightly blurred.
He’d shot him.
