“I gave her life a purpose. Since I was forced to carry her around for nine months, giving up my size zero figure and dealing with fucking cankles, then I was going to make goddamn sure I got something out of it.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I snap furiously, needing to know and simultaneously dreading the answer.
A cruel smirk stretches across her face, and the gleam of pride at what she’s done is sickening. “I got rid of her to break your father. He was such a fucking sucker for you two. I knew losing his little girl would send him over the edge. The pathetic waste of space all but gave up after her disappearance, leaving me to take control. Between Lawrence, Frank, and I, we pushed the company to new heights. We made Nocturnal Mercenaries number one, the go-to organization.”
She sounds so fucking proud of her achievement, and I sneer at her, not even recognizing this conniving bitch standing in front of me. Why was I so hesitant to kill her? It’s all I can fucking think about as she glowers at me.
“But, Lawrence…”
“Lawrence was obsessed with me. He would have done anything I wanted for the chance to get me back—he did do everything I asked of him.” She laughs humorlessly. “And the pathetic sap thought it was all his idea. A dropped hint here, a subtle nudge there. He loved fucking me while we spitballed ideas for how to destroy Barton.”
Her insinuation is more than enough for me to gather she and Lawrence were working together back then, although I’m guessing, once Maria got him to do her bidding, she was done with him, and over time, as he became increasingly infatuated with Hadley at the compound, he became less interested in pursuing Maria, instead seeing Hadley as his second chance to start over instead. It’s all incredibly fucked up.
My mother’s expression turns sour. “Of course, I didn’t expect him to double cross me. To keep that little whore all for himself and use her against me.” I can tell her focus is lost in the past as her eyes cloud over. “It makes so much sense now. How accepting he was when I broke things off with him. I had no further purpose for him. He was useless to me, just like Barton. All I have ever wanted is the company.” Her gaze hardens as she snaps her attention back to me. “Now, enough of this nonsense. Give me the goddamn shares!”
She starts to stomp toward West, ready to pick up where she left off, but I call out, “You can’t kill him.”
She pauses mid-stride, looking at me with a feral look in her eye. “Who said anything about killing him?” My shoulders sag in relief, not realizing the prematurity of my actions. “That’s what I have you here for.”
Fuck.
A malicious grin curves up her botoxed lips, and without any hesitation, she changes direction, striding over to one of the men dressed in black. He doesn’t even move as she lifts the gun out of the holster on his belt and, flicking off the safety, she turns to face me. There is no emotion in her eyes as she lifts her arm and points the barrel at my head.
“Now, West,” she says in a sickly-sweet voice, “give me the shares, or Hawk here, dies.”
Fucking shit. I grit my teeth and glower at her, even as sweat forms along my back and my heart hammers against my chest. Until now, I never really thought she was capable of it, but if all the shit she’s spouted in the last few minutes isn’t proof enough, then the unwavering set to her face is definitely all the confirmation I need. My mother won’t hesitate to kill me.
My tongue flicks out to run along my bottom lip, and I glance briefly at West, seeing the same oh shit look on his face before I return my focus back to the gun pointed in my face.
He opens his mouth to speak, and I know he's about to offer her anything she wants, but he doesn’t get the chance. I jump as a blaring alarm goes off, delaying my execution…for now.
Chapter 23
The four of us sit in silence, listening to the sound of a vehicle driving away, with my brother and boyfriend inside it.
“We need to go after them,” I insist, jumping to my feet. “We need to go now!” I push more urgency into my tone when no one else moves. What the fuck are they waiting for?
“They’ll be long gone by now, babe.” Mason sighs, his brows furrowed as he thinks.
“So what, we just sit here and do nothing? We have to do something!”
“We can track their phones…assuming they’re still on,” Cam suggests, and my ears perk up. I knew I loved that gorgeous man for a reason.
He pulls his phone out and I lean in to watch over his shoulder as he pulls up an app.
“What’s that?”
“Fam Finder. You can add people to it, and so long as they have their phone on them, and it’s turned on, you can track where they are.”
“Handy,” I mutter, watching as each of our names come up on a list on the side of the screen.
“Yeah, we added you and Beck to it after you disappeared.” He maintains his focus on the screen, clicking on Hawk’s name. An image of a map comes up, with a flashing green dot in the middle of it. I lean in to get a closer look.
“It’s moving.”
“Yeah, they’re heading West on Greenwich Street. Looks like they’re trying to get out of the city.”
“Where do you think they’re taking them? The compound?”
I notice Beck shake his head and turn to look at him. “I’d doubt it. That place will be in ruins by now. The company probably owns other property—they could be taking them there.”
“It doesn’t matter where they’re going,” Mason says. “If we leave now, we can follow them.”
We rush around, gathering bits and pieces. I shove on my combat boots, checking that my trusty knife is there, and with purposeful feet, I stride into the living room. Bending down, I reach under the coffee table and retrieve the knife I’d taped to the underside. Moving to the kitchen, I do the same with the knife I’d taped to the top of the under-counter cabinet.
I’m faintly aware of the others watching me. Cam has made a game out of trying to find all of them. So far, he’s found the one I had under the coffee table, but that’s it. Idiot didn’t even think to check the cistern behind the toilet, or under his own damn mattress.
“You’ve still got your knives?” I ask, and everyone nods.
“Here’s a gun too,” Beck says, holding one out to me. I notice each of them has one tucked in the back of their pants too. Taking it from his outstretched hand, I do the same, and all of us share a final look. A fierce determination burns in their eyes, which I imagine is reflected in my own.
With a sharp jerk of my head, I bark out, “Let’s do this,” and turn on my heel, striding out of the dorm without a backward glance. I don’t need to. I know each of them is behind me. I can hear the promise of retribution in every thud of their boots as we make our way down the stairwell and out of the building.
***