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Nothing.
Not a sound. Not a flicker of movement. Just carts of linens and shelves of supplies. Shit! I know this is where he is. There is no where else that would give him a point of exit. He is in here somewhere.
Splitting my attention for a moment, I look over at Gray and motion to the carts. Dominic isn’t a small man, but he could definitely hide in one of the oversized rolling baskets of soiled linens. Gray advances toward the carts, picking up a broom along the way, and begins jabbing the end of it into them. I move silently toward the sliding doors in the wall. I know that he’s got to be in one of the other. It’s exactly where I would be.
Reaching out, I grasp the handle to the dumbwaiter and pull it toward me. It’s empty, but getting a good look at it, I can tell that it’s a little too small for Dominic to fit in. I reach for the laundry shoot. I doubt that he would try something so risky. It’s a long way to the first floor, and one mistake would send you plummeting down the stainless steel tube straight to the bottom. It would be a mess.
Not that I’d mind that happening to Dominic.
The voices in the hall grow louder as they come closer to where we are. I can hear Weaver barking orders in her frosty voice. For a second in the hall, I thought I saw a real person behind that layer of ice, but any traces of humor are long gone now.
“Fuck!” Grayson’s startled voice shouts half a second before I hear a thud and a rustle of activity behind me. I whirl around just in time to see Dominic scrambling out of the laundry cart with way more agility than I would have credited a man his age with having, the broom Gray had been using clutched in one hand, his gun in the other. For a long moment, they stare at each other, guns leveled. Neither of them even breathes.
“Don’t move a fucking inch, Junior.” Dominic grunts at me. I fucking hate how he always points out that I share a name with my father.
“Killing my bastard won’t make me lose a minute of sleep.” His lip curls in a nasty sneer.
Gray’s face hardens, going blank at the words that confirm every rumor we ever heard about Gray’s parentage. His gun hand wavers, just a minuscule amount, but Dominic takes the brief lapse as an opportunity to make a break for the door. I’m positive that he knows that we aren’t here alone, which means he knows it is safer for him to deal with Weaver and her agents than it is to contend with us. His family.
Dominic doesn’t even make it completely out the door before Weaver is there, her gun leveled at his face, satisfaction softening her pale eyes.
“Drop your weapon and put your hands where I can see them!” She screams at him as one of her team members closes in, pointing another gun in his direction.
It’s anticlimactic how easily he complies with her orders. It’s no secret to anyone that I was hoping for an opportunity to damage him. To make him hurt for thinking he could use Ana to get to me. Disappointment churns in my gut. He’s going to live to see another day when I had truly hoped that today we would put him into the ground. Maybe that makes me a terrible person, but so be it. As long as he lives, he will continue to wreak havoc and ruin lives, so now I will have to find a way to get to him, no matter where Weaver takes him. My face burns and my hands tremble with a combination of impotent rage and adrenaline that has no outlet.
Dominic is in cuffs and being read his Miranda rights before I even have a chance to get my gun holstered. His lips curl into a scoffing smile as he meets my gaze. He knows that he dodged a bullet today. Literally. I’ve also shown my hand, and now I have no doubt that he will be preparing himself for anything that I will throw his way.
“See you around, Junior,” he mocks as an agent nudges him toward the open door and the hall beyond.
Weaver turns her attention to Grayson, Travis and I, “It’s late. I will be back later today to talk to the ladies. Make sure that all of them are available.”
Travis nods his agreement and follows her into the hall, talking in a low voice.
“Did you know?” Grayson’s voice beside me is a mixture of shock and horror. I know what he’s asking. I didn’t. I actually thought he might be my half brother, not my cousin.
Shaking my head, I turn toward my best friend. “No man, no idea. I mean, I heard the rumors, but you did too. ”
“Kinda always hoped that we might be brothers,” he mutters, echoing my own thoughts, his tone is filled with disgust.
Surprise makes me bark out a short laugh. “I always hoped the same thing,” I admit.
“Well, this is just so sweet,” Weaver’s voice interjects, surprising me with her return, “but I’m going to need statements from all of you tonight.” I know she’s doing it on purpose because she’s pissed about us sacking Dom’s house earlier without bringing her in on it.
> “Tonight?” Gray asks, his eyes darting up toward the higher floors, his brow creased with concern and frustration. Weaver must see his reluctance because she relents.
“Tomorrow is fine then. I’m hopeful that Ms. Brooks will be feeling up to making a statement.” It’s clearly a nice way of her saying that she expects Nikki to give an official statement.
I nod my agreement. Gray does the same before leaving me standing there with her.
Weaver watches him stride into the stairwell before looking back at me. “Make sure I get to talk to her,” she demands, not waiting for me to respond before she turns abruptly and heads in the direction of the elevator. Usually, the woman is a freaking robot. Tonight is the first time I have seen any glimmer of humanity from the woman, and then she goes and tops the brief light of humor with a sliver of compassion, leaving me speechless. Maybe there is an actual person inside that frigid exterior, after all.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Xavier
Moving silently so I don’t disturb anyone who might actually be asleep, I let myself into the cool darkness of my home. The stress and ultimate frustration of the night is still boiling in my blood. I’m angry that even though Dominic was finally caught, he was arrested, and I didn’t get an opportunity to take him out the way I had longed to. I still have a driving need to see him finished, I haven’t given up on that, even with Weaver locking him in a cell somewhere. I have zero illusions about the power that my uncle wields. He’s a rich man, a very rich man, and money equals opportunities that other people don’t have. I have no doubt that Dominic will have the very best, highest-priced, sleazy attorneys, and if there is any way that they can get him out from under the charges that the Feds are going to throw at him… they will. That knowledge sits heavy in my chest.
“X?” Ana’s soft voice startles me out of my black ruminations. I haven’t moved since closing the door behind me.
