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“You’re all stronger than me.” I raised my eyes. “You always were. I couldn’t look you in the eyes anymore. I couldn’t face you. So, when my grandfather told me about the pictures and the fake police report that forced us to plea down before we went to prison, I started digging. Why would Martin do that?” I cast a quick glare over my shoulder, seeing him still standing there, frozen. “Who was helping him who had everything to gain by us three getting sent away?”
I looked back to my friends, letting my eyes drift from Damon to Kai to Michael.
“I knew you’d help,” I told them. “I knew you’d do anything I asked you to.”
“So you went to Blackchurch to recruit?” Kai asked, gesturing to Micah and Rory. “So you could bring them to the table?”
“So I could bring the table,” I countered. “I needed to dry up, and I had to do something right all on my own. I had to go somewhere I could find powerful people who needed us, too.” I met Michael’s eyes. “We needed them. If we were going to go up against your father and Martin Scott and win.”
“And yet,” Evans chimed in, “I have Khadir and Dinescu.”
“You have nothing,” Aydin said, stepping forward. “I don’t follow.”
He snapped his fingers and his crew in the devil masks backed away, standing down.
He looked to Will. “I’m just here for the fun.”
I held his eyes, knowing he was here to collect a lot more than that.
The immediate threat now equalized, Michael swept in, grabbed his father’s collar, and reared his fist back, punching him right across the face. Evans stumbled to the side, tripping over his legs, but Michael held firm and pulled him back up, not letting him get away.
Damon laughed at my side.
Michael leaned into his father’s face, growling low, “Someday, you and I are going to have a serious conversation,” he told him. “I’ll give you a few years to think about what you want to say to me. Now, walk to the car. Don’t make my mother watch you be carried out.”
Evans’s chest rose and fell hard, fear etched across his face as I’m sure he wracked his brain to think about how he was going to get out of this.
But someone came up and grabbed him, force-walking him out of the park as the rest of the officers drifted with them.
“I’ll take care of it from here,” my grandfather told me. “Call Jack if you want the other one extracted, too.”
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
His assistant had been just as reliable as he had been, keeping in constant touch with me at Blackchurch and keeping my grandfather informed.
He stared at me and smiled. “Be safe. All of you,” he said. “I’ll be at the tavern if you need me.”
I nodded, watching him, Evans, and all the officers leave the park. I turned, seeing only our crew, Aydin’s, and Martin left to deal with.
Micah walked up to me. “You needed our families’ power then?” he asked. “The protection of their connections and their investment into your resort? You used us for our families?”
“Wanna use me for mine?” I tossed back. “I asked you to give me till the end of the weekend. I chose you. Now it’s your turn to choose us.”
We did need them, but I wasn’t inviting anyone into the fold I didn’t believe honestly belonged here. Micah Moreau and Rory Geardon were my friends, and in no time at all, I had every confidence that Michael and everyone else would consider them such, as well.
I turned to Aydin, squaring my shoulders. “Leave.”
He glanced over my shoulder. “He could be useful to me.”
Martin Scott?
Aydin Khadir had no interest in money, power, or business. His satisfaction in life came from playing people, and getting his hands on Scott would keep me engaged, Emmy prisoner, and Alex in his life as a result.
“I’ll ask you one last time,” I gritted out. “Leave.”
Em walked over, standing at my side and facing him.
He’d used her at Blackchurch. But even so, he guided her when no one ever had.
