My teeth clenched, unable to process all of this.
She continued without stopping. “I know you think Keeton blamed you for skimming off that deal. Think he believed it was you. Thought we didn’t care.”
I ground my teeth in spite. Barely able to keep it together.
“He didn’t, Leif. He never condoned what happened, and he never would have gone after you. But once you were gone, he had to act like he was in line with Krane . . . for the sake of Petrus. For the sake of the family. For the sake of Braxton. He had to protect everyone who was involved. If we went after Nixon? You know there would have been more bloodshed. He had to make the choice.”
I could hear the weight of her swallow. “We decided it was best to let you think we were against you. Safer for you to stay far away from L.A. Until we had enough to take out Nixon without it putting the rest of the crew in danger. Believe me or not. It’s up to you. But it is the truth.”
A jagged breath ripped from my lungs.
This was what I’d wanted all along, wasn’t it? To see Nixon go down?
Burn at the motherfucking stake?
An end to the scourge that he was.
But the only thing I cared about right then was Mia.
Mia and Penny and Greyson.
Possession rushed. A protectiveness that blotted out everything but them.
“I sent Braxton to take up your side. His flight landed an hour ago. Go. Protect her.”
She ended the call without saying anything else.
Instantly, I dialed Mia.
My soul chanted it. Mia. Mia. Mia.
It went to voicemail.
I tried again with the same result.
Dread curled, blood drenched in violence, mind spiraling that direction.
I dialed Lyrik while I grabbed the gun I’d shoved into the nightstand drawer. Checking that it was loaded.
He answered on the first ring.
Like maybe he’d been waiting on me to call.
“Lyrik.”
Worry silently shouted back before he grunted out the words, “Where the fuck are you?”
“Mia’s not answering,” I said instead.
“Yeah, that’s because her prick of an ex-boyfriend showed here a couple hours ago and the guy who was supposed to be sticking by her side took off like a pussy.”
Shit. Fuck. I blinked, trying to see through the barrage of fear that impaled me.
“Things get too heavy for you?” he taunted.
Yeah, way too fucking heavy.
“Where are they? Need to know, right now.”
Thought he must have felt the violence that was skating from my tongue because he lowered his voice like he was trying to keep the conversation from the rest of the house. “What’s going on?”
“Nixon isn’t who you think he is.”
“Yeah, well I think he’s a piece of shit, so . . .”
“He was using the gallery as a cover, Lyrik. Running shit through the back. Lana was killed as a warning. Need to make sure Mia is safe. Think they’ve been sending a message this whole time.”
A message that was meant for Nixon but somehow had ended up as one for me.
My purpose.
My reason.
This goal.
“Fuck.” Something banged in the background. “Motherfucker.”
His voice dropped in contempt. “They left with him two hours ago, Leif. Got some bullshit message that they were taking the kids for ice cream. Knew it. Knew it way down deep that something was amiss. That fucker is dead.”
Sickness clawed. Fact she was with him. The kids. The kids.
The world spun for a beat.
I gritted my teeth. “Where? Where did they go?”
“I don’t know where they went. Fuck.” Could feel Lyrik coming apart, too.
“Dad.” Brendon’s distanced voice broke into our chaos.
“Not right now, Brendon.”
“Dad, listen. I know you’re upset about Aunt Mia leaving. I know where they’re at. Where Penny is. I have her on my locator on Snap.”
“Where?” I demanded.
Silence stretched on for too fucking long, and when Lyrik spoke again, the entire world dropped out from under me.
No footing.
“Not at an ice cream parlor.”
His voice was grim. Hatred riding in behind the despair.
“Where?”
“North. Some sketch neighborhood.”
“Drop me the location.”
“Coming with you.”
“No, Lyrik.”
“This is my sister and niece and nephew you’re talking about.”
I swallowed around the ball of barbed wire in my throat. “These people . . . they’re cruel . . . evil,” I told him, knowing he now knew the truth about me.
I was one of them.
“You think I’m a stranger to that? Coming with you. Where are you?”
“About five minutes from your house.”
Hadn’t been able to stay with Mia, but I couldn’t bring myself to get very far, either.
“Meet me at Whitaker and Taylor in ten.”
He didn’t give me a chance to refuse before he hung up.
But we didn’t have time to fuck around. Despair hit me at the thought that we might already be too late.
I purged the thought and shoved my gun into the back of my jeans, tore open the door, and stepped outside, furiously blinking through the blazing daylight.
Trying to keep control.
Focus.
Knowing the time had come, but it looked entirely different than I’d ever anticipated.
My gaze moved.
Drawn to the parking lot below.
Braxton was there, leaning against a car. Skin dark and eyes fierce and loyalty firm. He tossed his cigarette to the ground and straightened.
I lifted my chin.
He grinned.
“It’s time,” I told him.
“Yeah, brother. I know. Let’s roll.”
I bounded down the steps of the crappy hotel and climbed onto my bike. Braxton got behind the wheel of the car he’d rented, falling in line behind me. My bike grumbled and groaned, reigned like a pack of vicious dogs that were fighting to be unleashed.
I took the couple turns through the shadowed Savannah streets.
Lyrik rolled out beside me at the intersection where he’d told us to meet. Tattooed arms stretched out, hands fisted on the handlebars. He gave me a look. I gave him one in return.
He throttled it, flying down the road.
Braxton and I followed suit.
Thirty-Seven
Leif
It was a sleazy street.
Same damn story but a different town.
Rundown houses on every side. Chain link fences fronting the overgrown yards. Sparse trees and dead weeds growing up all over the place.
A few were nicer. People trying to make something out of this life.
Our motorcycles rumbled through the stagnant heatwaves as we took another turn deeper into the neighborhood, our pace slowed and controlled while our spirits raged.
Could feel it.
Coming off of Lyrik.
Coming off of me.
Do or die.
And I had no idea what I was going to come up on. Come up against.
If it’d be the same scene that had destroyed me three years before.
If this would be my end.
But I would give it all to them. No questions or reservations.
Lyrik put his left hand down, gesturing for us to slow. We eased off to the right of the narrow neighborhood road.