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“You guys haven’t said it yet, have you?” he asks, rather than even acknowledging the things I heard about Beth Meyer, a local woman known for going all in after very brief encounters.
The groom made out with her once, years ago, and by the next day she had already registered for their wedding at a gift shop in town.
I glare at the man. “Why are you always in the middle of it?”
He holds his hands up, his playful smile vanishing. “What is happening right now?”
“You’re trying to ruin this for me. Why?”
His head shakes. “Devyn, no. I’m just joking. Not about the whole love thing, that’s like legit going on between the two of you, but just giving you a hard time about it.”
My heart is pounding.
I know my reaction is over the top, but I also know it will be a very long while before I’ll be able to fully stop listening to that voice inside my head telling me that Emmett will stop loving me. My parents did, and if the people who made you can do it, then anyone else can too.
“Is it something you want to talk about?”
I feel like the biggest asshole ever when he shrinks back at my glare.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. Honestly, Devyn. I don’t know you two very well, but I consider you both friends. I’d never try to get in the way of what you have with each other.”
I nod, refusing to apologize despite my own feelings because I feel like they’re valid. There are reasons I have to be so protective of what Emmett and I are building. As if it isn’t enough that there’s a twelve-year age difference. We have to contend with his own guilt over my brother’s death and the fact that my parents will officially disown me when they find out about us.
He gives me one last pleading look before turning to walk away.
Forgetting my need for something to drink because of my need to find Emmett and be reassured that he cares for me, I scan the crowd. He’s no longer where I left him, but coming up from the street are three men that clearly do not belong.
The ski masks are concerning enough but more so, each of them is holding a gun.
Chapter 34
Legacy
“He’s not even a contender,” I say, watching Devyn walk away, making sure she’s out of hearing distance before switching gears. “What do you know about that whole Cortez situation?”
Cash switches gears just as fast. “I reached out to Angel Guerra who wasn’t at all impressed that I had his phone number. He assured us that Raul Cortez is dead.”
“And you have proof?”
Cash shakes his head. “He was reluctant to provide anything. The man’s paranoid. Probably thought I’d try to bring some sort of criminal charge against him, but I wouldn’t. A man like Cortez dying is a means for celebration.”
I nod, quick to agree. Cortez is someone Cerberus has been battling against for the better part of a decade. He always managed to slip away and was quick to rebuild when Cerberus took down one of his houses. In the last year, he got involved with online sales, and his business grew. Depravity spread like wildfire because online users could spend their money from their basements or garages or wherever they felt comfortable paying to watch some seriously deviant things rather than having to shoulder the cost of an expensive trip out of the country.
“So we’re expected to take the word of a money-hungry mercenary?”
Cash shrugs. “There are rumors that Guerra was one of his victims once upon a time, and that he had more skin in the fight than our little town, but who knows. What I do know is that we haven’t heard a peep from anyone else. Well, not since Donavan held those Cerberus members hostage.”
I could correct him because technically, he’s wrong on several levels. Neither Landon nor Rick are members of Cerberus, and they were just a means to an end for him to keep an eye on Alani Warren. But honestly, that’s just splitting hairs. Kid was livid that Landon was held along with Landon’s husband Rick, but no blood was shed over that situation. Cerberus and the mercenaries went their separate ways.
“We appreciate you guys being here,” Cash continues. “So don’t take it the wrong way, but I think it’s all in the past. There’s no reason for Angel to lie to us.”
“He’s psycho,” I mutter.
Cash nods. “I can agree with that, but we haven’t had—”
A loud pop cuts off his words. I’ve been in far too many combat situations to confuse the sound of gunfire with anything else.
Cash reaches for his gun under his suit coat, and I do the same.
Several more pops echo around the park, combining with the shrill cries of the guests as they begin to scatter. Some are still standing around, confused about what to do.
