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“Like I said,” Savage repeats. “You okay?”
“Pretty fucking shitty,” Eric replies, shocking me with his honesty.
“Of course you are,” Savage says, his hand catching Eric’s shoulder. “Grayson’s on his way over here.”
Eric rejects Grayson instantly. “He needs to step back from this until we know more.”
“I thought, I assumed, he had a massive heart attack?” I question, hurrying to join them, looking between both men. “Is there a question about how he died?”
“The police are involved,” Savage says. “But under the circumstances, that’s expected.”
“They have no proof of murder,” I argue. “Right?”
“Nothing has changed,” Savage states. “There was no one in the room with him when he died. There was no evidence of foul play at this time. All that points to a problem is that hotel footage of the man we found entering his room under the guise of being an employee.”
“Who we know to be an assassin,” I remind him.
“There’s no proof of murder,” Savage replies. “Maybe your mother can offer insight into exactly what happened the day he collapsed.” His phone buzzes with a text. “Grayson’s on his way. He left Mia behind. He thought you’d want to talk one on one.”
“I need to stay close to Harper,” Eric states. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going with her. I want to be at the hotel in case she needs me.”
“And what if Isaac shows up?” I challenge. “You’ll both be on edge, years of history between you. You’ll both end up in jail.” I step in front of him and plant my hand on his chest. “Stay here. Savage and I will go and come right back. Please. I beg of you.”
“She’s right, man,” Savage says. “And Blake’s on his way over here anyway. He wants to talk about what comes next.”
“We bury him,” Eric replies dryly. “That’s what comes next.”
I swear his body vibrates beneath my touch with those words. “Eric,” I whisper softly.
“I’m coming with you,” he says. “I’ll stay out of sight, but I need to be there if you need me.” He eyes Savage. “Have Blake meet me at the hotel.”
Savage studies him with hard eyes, and a harder set to his jaw, before he gives into the inevitability of his employer’s order and inclines his chin. “Understood,” he says, pulling his phone from his pocket and shooting off a text.
“What about Grayson?” I ask.
“We’ll turn him back around,” Savage replies, “but I suggest you call him, Eric. He won’t take the dismissal easily.”
Eric nods and walks to the hallway table, sticking his gun in his waistband and then opening the drawer to remove what I suspect is yet another weapon. I’m going to tell my mother that her husband is dead, and yet, I feel as if we’re headed to war. Are we? Is this where we reach our conclusion? Is this where the truth explodes and destroys anyone it can in its path?
Chapter one hundred twenty-one
Harper
Afew minutes later, the three of us are loading into an SUV. Savage is in the passenger seat, while Smith takes the wheel. “I thought you were with Grayson,” Eric says, eyeing Smith as he and I get settled in the back.
“I was already in the SUV to take Grayson to see you,” Smith says. “It made sense to drop him off and pick you up. We have men with Grayson and Mia.”
Eric nods and settles into his seat, his hand finding my hand, but he doesn’t look at me. He just holds me. He holds me like he doesn’t want to let go, like he feels like he’ll never touch me again once he does. He’s lost everyone and I know he feels like he’ll lose me, too, and yet, he’s put it all on the line with me. He’s decided I’m worth the risk.
Savage’s phone rings and I’m jolted with the memory of the call from Gigi. I consider telling Eric about it, but I quickly nix that idea. I see no good in telling him that his grandmother was being attacked, or so it seemed. He might hate her, but he just lost his father. He’s about to let me walk into a situation he feels is volatile. Now is not the time to tell him. I can’t risk being a trigger that brings him to his knees.
We pull to the side alleyway by the hotel and me, Savage, and Eric get out of the SUV. “What are we doing?” I ask Savage.
“We’re having you wear a wire.” he holds up the device and Eric snaps it away from him, stepping between me and Savage, blocking me from his view.
“We need to put it between your breasts,” Eric explains. “That’s the best spot to pick up the conversation and remainunseen.”
I nod and he helps me place the microphone and wires, his deft fingers working with the ease of experience, and while the intimacy of the touch lifts goosebumps on my skin, nerves work a number in my belly. “Whatever happens,” he instructs, “whatever she says, keep her talking. Find out everything you can so that we can do just what you said: end this.”
