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“Now there’s no need to announce our presence,” the dangerous man who first approached said. I couldn’t name anyone. Mobsters should wear name badges on their chests to make identifying them easier. It would also help when I wanted to insult them in my head.
Based on let the other names like Thumbs and Hulk, this guy had to be TDH. Tall, dark and handsome. Or boss. He radiated power.
I’d never noticed it in another human being besides Corbin. Except Corbin didn’t wield his presence like a weapon. He had power in the sense you wanted to sit around and listen to what he said all day. Spend time on his lap running your fingers through his hair kind of power. The man across from us made me want to run in fear. He had no niceness about him. Nothing soft or loving.
Corbin took another giant step directly in front of me. “Westley Richter.”
I froze behind him. This was the Grandmaster? The mobster from Chicago who had everyone picking up chess pieces next to dead bodies?
“This is —” I started, but he cut me off again. The man had a penchant for trying to finish other people’s sentences. It was super annoying, but he had the upper hand, so I didn’t plan to tell him about the negative characteristic trait.
“Yes, dear. Otherwise known as the Grandmaster.”
Corbin’s body was just as rigid as mine as he glared at the man like he didn’t scare him, even though my tennis shoes wanted to turn an about-face, and make a mad run for it through the woods. “You told me you weren’t involved.”
How did the man get here? Did mobsters fly in planes like regular people? He probably had to sit first class. But none of that explained how he’d been talking to Corbin less than an hour ago. Had he been in Pelican Bay this entire time? Was he waiting for his men to capture us and now he wanted to finish the job?
Thumbs and Hulk were scary, but they paled to the raw violence seeping from the Grandmaster.
He leaned forward and attempted to smile at Corbin, but it came out more of like a tiger baring his teeth before he took a chunk out of your arm.
“I assure you, TerminalChaos, regardless of how appealing I find money, I don’t sell women.” His gaze found me, and Corbin hissed, repositioning his body to cover me further. “I do, however, make it my business to know when someone is throwing around chess pieces and pretending to be me.”
CHAPTER24
CORBIN
Hazel kept trying to push to my side to see around my body and stare at the Grandmaster. It took all my energy to keep her in line and not launch at the man who put the woman I loved in danger.
The night had gone from manageable to absolutely dire. Now that the Grandmaster was involved, the odds of both of us making it out alive were slimming by the minute. He didn’t leave witnesses or any loose ends. It didn’t matter to me if I didn’t survive, but I’d do everything in my power to make sure Hazel had a long and wonderful life.
I’d planned for every contingency except this one. In case we were unable to return to normal life, I’d made up a new identification for Hazel, including a bank account with enough money to set her up for life. I left instructions with Ridge to get her the documents after I died, but it wasn’t over yet.
I finally found the one person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and I didn’t plan to let the dream die easily.
Plus, without me, Cyrus would become an absolute terror. Someone had to keep him in line, and I’d been doing it our entire lives.
“I appreciate the heads up about the chess piece murders,” Westley said, nodding his head at me. “It may have taken me longer to figure out who it was if you hadn’t been poking around in my files over the last week. One of my employees has been a very bad boy and now he deserves to be punished.”
“I’m so glad to be of a service to you. My going rate is fifty thousand an hour.” He may have had the upper hand, but he wouldn’t catch me. I had a reputation to uphold.
The Grandmaster laughed. “Do you take personal checks?”
I pushed Hazel two more steps behind me, hoping he hadn’t noticed we were slowly making our way toward the tree line and back into civilization. “From you? No. But a money order will work.”
He laughed again. “I am going to hate killing you. But these things must be done, you know?” he sounded like we were discussing cleaning the kitchen. Taking a life was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “I have to take care of you and then search for my errant henchmen.”
“What makes you think I’ll allow that?” I asked, taking two more steps back. My flip-flops crunched leaves but hopefully didn’t give our movements away. I didn’t plan to die that night, but I definitely didn’t plan to die wearing a pair of bright pink flip-flops from Old Navy.
The Grandmaster shrugged. “What choice do I have? Although I do sincerely appreciate you figuring out why Bernard is in Maine murdering people and pegging them on me, some things can’t be avoided.”
“He didn’t do it on purpose,” Hazel said behind my back, and I scowled at her. There she went reminding the man of her presence. Did she see the way he looked at her earlier, like a piece of meat he wanted to put on his grill?
“Obviously, I am in your debt.”
Hazel peeked her head out from behind my shoulder. “So you’ll let us go?” she asked, sounding hopeful. It really was her first time dealing with a hardened criminal.
The Grandmaster’s face pursed. His lips formed a straight line, and he did almost look anguished for a moment. As if he contemplated his choices. “Sadly, no. I will need that thumb drive, though.”
