“So, my body bag was intended to leave from Rockwell Academy. Then, a few days later, I’m pronounced dead and their crime is covered up.”
“That’s right.”
Ryder leans forward. “You were never there. Just an entry on the patient register.”
“But my parents. Why didn’t they check on me?”
Her eyes are full of unshed tears, and Ryder’s expression is grim.
“Because Gideon would have spun a twisted tale. Something along the lines that it would impede your recovery, you were responding to treatment, that kind of bullshit.”
“And nobody had cause to doubt him.”
She says bitterly. “He is the golden boy. Can do no wrong, and Harmony Straits sanatorium is merely his alibi to murder.”
They nod.
“But why say I’m dead when he doesn’t have the body? That’s risky.”
“Is it?”
A look passes between us, and Snake shrugs. “We may have given him reason to believe yours was one of the bodies at the morgue.”
“But how?”
I grip her hand tighter. “Because we can, darlin’. We can alter records to suit our agenda, and it suited us to declare you deceased to buy you some time.”
“You mean I’m free.”
Her eyes shine as her shoulders drop, all the tension leaving her, and Ryder nods. “If that’s what you want, but we have a better alternative ending.”
I don’t miss his fierce expression and stifle my grin. Gideon Fox messed with the wrong man when he involved The Reaper’s kids. Not to mention the sons and daughters of another fearsome organization that goes by the name of Club Mafia. Gideon’s days are numbered, and it’s a race to see who brings him down first.
“I’m listening.”
Delilah squares her shoulders and sits up straighter, and pride blooms in my chest as she shakes off her fears.
Ryder stops as Lucy enters, balancing a tray of coffee, and only when we all have a mug in our hand and she leaves, does he lay out his plan.
CHAPTER 35
DELILAH
It’s been the best week of my life, which is strange to say considering the mess I’m in. But life with Blade is more than amazing, and I have never been happier.
Sunday offered to give me a manicure in one of the treatment rooms, and I quickly accepted. Blade is out with The Reapers, and we finished restocking the bar and found we had time on our hands.
It’s what I love about living here. There is an easy pace of life where everything you do is appreciated.
It soon became common knowledge that Blade is exclusive with me, and I have been made so welcome. It appears that everyone is happy for us, and I really sense that I’ve found a home here.
Sunday, however, has a troubled mind; it’s evident from the sadness in her eyes, and I enquire gently, “Is everything okay?”
“Not really.”
A deep sigh confirms her words, and she shakes her head.
“Razor won’t ask me to stay. He’s aware I’m booked on a flight to Maine next week.”
