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The Storm stayed silent for a long moment. “And I’m supposed to believe that if we put an end to this war now, you’ll let me leave here alive?”
I motioned toward the entrance to the food court. “Make the call to bring your men out of Paradise Bend, and you can waltz right out of here. We just want our home back. We can live and let live as long as you’re doing the same.”
The wheels appeared to be turning behind the Storm’s dark eyes. I couldn’t tell how much he was coming to terms with the situation and how much coming up with some new scheme. Whatever the case was, he raised his chin as if he still held the authority here.
“Now that I’ve given the matter more thought, I believe your pathetic county is far more trouble than it’s worth. I have bigger prizes to pursue anyway.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. As he held the phone to his ear, his stance tensed.
I didn’t think our jabs about his fear of Xavier had been so far off the mark.
My breath caught in my throat as he started to speak. “Xavier. Yes. No, I don’t want to hear about that. You listen to me.” He swiveled, turning his back to us. “I want the entire operation in Paradise Bend scrapped. We’re done there. Pull all the men out, and we’ll discuss the next job I’ll have for you tomorrow.”
Whatever Xavier said in response, the Storm didn’t quite contain a flinch. “I don’t want any argument about it,” he retorted. “Get your asses out of there now or I’ll be having them served to me on a platter. Do you understand?”
His tone was cold enough to chill me to the bone. Just like that, I could imagine him sitting at the same table as the Long Night and their other menacing colleagues in the Devil’s Dozen.
The two men talked back and forth a little longer, and then the Storm asked to speak to a couple more of his people who must have been high up in the operation. Finally, he hung up and turned to face us again.
“It’s done,” he said. “They’re already packing up. Are we finished here?”
I might have trusted Beckett, but I sure as hell didn’t trust this prick to keep his word. “And they won’t be back? We expect to be left alone from here forward.”
“Of course,” the Storm said, way too easily.
Wylder cleared his throat. “Naturally, to ensure your cooperation, we’re going to be holding onto a little something as collateral.” He motioned toward the back of the room.
As Beckett stepped out from behind the column and walked over to join us, the Storm’s expression shifted from haughty confusion to tight bewilderment. It took him a moment to speak. “Beckett?” His gaze shot to me and then Wylder. “What the fuck is my son doing here? Why did you drag him into this?”
“They didn’t drag me into it, Dad,” Beckett said with impressive calm. “You did.”
The Storm sputtered. “What?”
“Beckett will be our collateral,” I said, setting my hand briefly on the kid’s shoulder. “As long as your son and only heir stays with us, that should be enough incentive for you to stay away.”
“Fuck you,” the Storm said.
“You have no choice,” Wylder said. “Beckett walks out with us.”
“Beckett,” the Storm said, directly addressing his son. “I’ll get you out of this. I’ll—”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Despite his best efforts, Beckett’s voice cracked. “But this is the only way. I want to go with them so I know you’ll keep the peace and get back to focusing on what’s really important. Just think of it as me doing my bit for the business.”
Right then, I saw the father behind the hardened criminal—a look of the kind of anguish my father had never felt over my fate. “Please,” the Storm said.
“If you want us to trust you to keep your word, then you should trust us to take good care of your son,” Wylder said. “It’s his decision anyway.”
“Goodbye, Dad,” Beckett said. “I’ll still call. And maybe when things are back on track, I’ll be ready to come home.”
The Storm shifted on his feet. Wylder waved him off. “You wanted to leave here safely. Now go, before we change our mind about that part.”
The Storm gave his son one last wretched look. Then he dragged himself away, trudging with his two bodyguards toward the hall. We waited until we’d heard the far doors bang shut behind them before we called our men down and headed out the back entrance.
Beside me, Beckett’s posture was totally rigid. “Are you okay?” I asked him.
He nodded. “I didn’t think it’d be easy, but… I didn’t think it’d be quite that hard, either.”
“He loves you,” I said quietly. “I could see it. He’ll keep the peace for you.”
