Chapter 27

Easton

Anger.

Predatory rage.

Fury.

I wasn't certain which of the words was stronger than the other, but I felt them. My blood was pumping, the rush of adrenaline unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Except for the night we'd killed our father, ending his tyranny and his prison-like hold over us. Oddly enough, after all these years, it finally felt as if we were preparing to free ourselves of his shadow, his horrible legacy.

If only we survived whatever battle was being played out.

I knew my brothers very well. We'd developed safeguards years before regarding documentation on every aspect of business, locking down bank accounts so no one could find them. We'd encrypted our client list, which had added credibility and a trust factor to those who did business with us. They'd been warned to cut all physical ties, which I knew they would.

No one was stupid in our game of power.

The single thing that could lead to our imprisonment was if Creed hadn't excavated the remains of the victims. I had to put my trust in the man.

Now it was about some damage control before going on the offensive.

But only if we could track down the asshole.

What the fuck were we missing?

I had difficulty believing we'd found nothing.

Between the three of us we'd found almost nothing to lead us to who was behind the threats. That meant the fucker had covered his tracks methodically, which must have taken years to plan. With all our resources across the world, our expensive technology, computer hackers, and people in law enforcement under our thumbs, the fact we couldn't find one person in a sea of billions screamed we'd gone soft.

But in truth, it was what I preferred. I wanted a life and I was prepared to fight to the death to achieve it.

I'd called Sara twice, both times immediately going to voicemail, which meant she'd turned off her phone.

That also likely meant the fucker had sent her photographs as well.

I was almost at the house, trying to figure out what to say to her. Would she even believe me after everything she'd heard about my family?

Fuck.

"Fuck!" I bellowed and slammed my hand on the steering wheel as I made the turn into my neighborhood. I had a very bad feeling the explosion was ready to occur. As I zoomed into the driveway, another startling intuition rushed into me.

A dark feeling that everything was about to change.

I was in some kind of fog as I rolled up the aggregate path, braking to a hard stop. There was an SUV in the driveway, soldiers sent by Creed. I still had my weapon on the passenger seat but didn't want to scare her any more than had already been done.

As I climbed out, I scanned the perimeter, noticing a fucking manila envelope positioned in front of the door. A single man headed in my direction, the soldier armed and ready to do what was necessary.

"Mr. Saint. I'm Kyle. Creed sent me."

I nodded and slammed the door to my Maserati. "Any issues?"

"Nothing. The envelope was delivered to you about fifteen minutes ago."

"By whom?"

"A courier service. I assure you I checked him out." Kyle gave me a respectful nod.

"The sender?"

"The guy didn't know."

"Okay," I told him. "Keep watch on the perimeter. I have a bad feeling my property will be compromised."

"Yes, sir. We checked when we arrived, but we'll keep regular shifts walking every inch of your property."

"Thanks."

As he walked away, I glanced from one side to the other once again. The bad feeling remained. I headed into the house, the quiet the first thing I noticed. Usually, there was music playing but when she was concentrating inside her office, she often used headphones.

I headed into my office first, needing to see what additional crap the perpetrator had sent. As I tore open the envelope, pulling out several photographs, I almost laughed. The first two were absolutely ridiculous. As if I'd had anything to do with one student inside my office, let alone the number of them I'd been doctored to appear with. I tossed them aside, angrier than I'd been in a hell of a long time.

But the second two confirmed what I already knew.

They were pictures taken of me stalking both Dylan Roxford and Zane Griffen. I searched for a note. Assholes who enjoyed the game also reveled in providing an idea of things to come.

Seeing nothing else in the envelope, I turned over the most incriminating pictures.

In bold red writing that reminded me of strings of blood, the fucker made his intentions clear.

The Angel of Death will soon meet his maker. Are you ready to die, Easton? You should be. But all good things come to those who wait patiently.

I'll be damned.

I turned around, still struggling with blinding rage. I had to keep a cool head. The fucker wanted me off my game. That's all this was, a fun game that up to this point he'd been winning.

Well, no more.

At least she hadn't opened the envelope before I'd returned. However, I needed to warn her about what was to come. In truth, I was prepared to leave town for a little while and would if it wasn't for the fact doing so would fall into the asshole's spinning web. He truly believed he was in control.

Sadly, until we were able to discover his identity, he was.

While I loathed admitting it, doing so would put a fire under my ass. I took the stairs two at a time, taking long strides down the hall to her office door. After knocking, I took a deep breath, still uncertain what to say to her. Since when had I had difficulty finding words under any circumstances?

When she didn't respond, I threw open the door.

She wasn't inside.

Less than one minute later, I realized she wasn't in either room. I jogged to the media room, the memories of the passion we'd shared weighing heavily on my mind as I opened the door.

It was empty.

My heart was racing, the realization something could have happened to her prior to the soldiers arriving kicking me in the ass.

I had a feeling there was no sense in yelling for her. Instead, I headed directly for the door leading to the garage inside the kitchen. Five seconds later I had my answer.

She was gone.

What the fuck?

With her car missing from the garage, it at least meant that she'd left of her own accord. However, my gut told me she'd been lured from the house. I ran back into my office, scanning the surface of my desk. She'd been inside picking up the things I'd tossed, trying to make right my stupidity from the night before.

Where the hell had she gone? I pulled out my phone just as it rang and something caught my eye in the bookcase. Two books were ajar.

I answered without bothering to look at the screen. "Sara."

"No, it's your brother."

"Styx. I'm a little busy right now." As I pulled out one of the books, a cold shiver coursed down my spine. "Hold on. Hold the fuck on."

"I know who the asshole is and you're not going to believe it."

Styx's voice was tinny, echoing. But I could easily answer the question. But how the hell had I missed it? The man had asked too many questions, always in my face. And the apple bit? Oh, shit. "Marcus Shelton."

"Yeah, he's the only son of the old Italian boss Angelo Rossi. Remember him?"

The wash of images flowing through my mind was immediate and harsh.

"No. I have a family," Angelo screamed as he crawled over the thorny foliage in his attempt to get away.

"And we don't give a shit," Creed said.

"Not for a fucking second," Styx howled.

"Look at the fuck trying to crawl away. Shoot him again, Easton."

"I will be avenged," Angelo said just before I took aim, the arrow whizzing through the air. "Sins of the father…"

Sins of the father.

While I certainly didn't believe in ghosts, I knew better than most that bad blood could pass from generation to generation. Angelo had been no fool, his hatred of our father stemming from a generations-old battle the two families had shared. His father had killed our grandfather, and Angelo had been killed in return.

Now his son was returning the favor. Only doing it his way.

I closed my eyes, still able to hear the man's pleas for mercy. I'd barely left him alive, just enough so my father had enjoyed his task of ending the man's life. I stumbled against my desk, trying to control my breathing.

"Guess who his godfather is."

"Who?" Although I wasn't certain I needed to ask.

"James Barker."

I pulled the phone away from my head, stars floating in front of my eyes. My friend. The man I'd trusted enough to learn several of my powerful, destructive secrets had been playing me for years.

"Sara is missing. I need to find her."

"Shit. I'll dispatch some soldiers."

"Call Creed. This means war."

I ended one call and started another, finally ready to leave a message for the woman I adored.

While not a praying man, I did so now in hopes my pride and my past, my anger, and my inability to see what was right in front of me hadn't signed her death warrant.

Sara

I was shaking from anger and sadness, trying to make sense of why Josie would want to hurt me. She wasn't my fucking friend. Maybe she just wanted Easton for herself. But the picture was…

Groaning, I realized I wasn't entirely certain where the hell I was going. Tears continued to slip from my eyes no matter how hard I'd tried to wipe them away. Within seconds, I was close to sobbing. It was ridiculous really. It wasn't like Easton and I were committed to each other. He was allowed to fuck anyone he wanted.

If I really believed that, why did the thought of him being with anyone else bother me so much? I turned a corner, heading out of the area where quaint shops and restaurants ruled the few blocks. I was pretty certain I'd gone around the block three times in my horrible fog. The first thing I'd done was turn off my phone. I had a feeling Josie would try to contact me, certainly Easton, when he realized I'd disobeyed him.

I wanted to laugh. Maybe it was time to go back home, even though I wasn't certain what I had to return to. I wasn't a sheep farmer. I was a writer. An author. A horrible sounding moan left my throat and I almost ran off the road. After jerking the wheel, I checked the rearview mirror to ensure I wasn't being followed by the police, or worse, had almost killed someone.

No, but there was a vehicle following closely behind. Had it been there before?

I gripped the steering wheel with both hands, hating the fact I was close to being lost. Maybe I was just on edge given the horrible conversation with Josie. Noticing a turn up just ahead, I waited until the last minute, saying a silent prayer I didn't blow out a tire before jerking to the right. When I didn't see the vehicle, I took a deep breath.

Then the car made the turn and my hackles were raised. What the hell was I supposed to do? I wasn't certain where I was or where I was going. What I did know was I couldn't allow my pride to get in the way.

Or my sadness.

I turned on my phone, gasping for air as I noticed the car speeding up behind me. I scanned the road, praying that I'd recognize something. Anything.

When I heard a beep indicating a voicemail after my phone had fully turned on, I jerked it into my hand. It was from Easton. My hand shaking, I struggled with trying to keep the car straight while listening to the message.

"Little fawn. You're in danger. Call me. Things aren't always as they seem. Please trust me."

Things aren't always as they seem.

Trust. Could I dare trust him or even myself at this point?

I took another turn.

The car followed.

Then another.

The sedan was right there directly behind me, alternately speeding up then slowing down, trying to terrorize me. I scanned the area, trying to catch my breath and find my courage. I was in an obviously rougher part of town, the broken-door cars and boarded-up buildings a dead giveaway. Why did I have the feeling that whoever was following me was trying to disorient me?

When I heard what sounded like an engine revving, I looked into the rearview mirror once again. The driver was getting closer. I strained to try to make out who was in the driver's seat but after the last turn, the sun was now blinding. Easton. Jesus. I had little choice but to trust the man I was falling in love with. Even if it killed me.

Yet before I was able to hit redial, my phone rang. Without looking, I answered it, ready to crawl into the safety of his arms.

"Easton."

"No. It's Josie. I tried to call you. I wanted to warn you."

"You've already done enough, you bitch. Just stay out of my life."

"No!" she yelled. "No, you need to listen to me. You're in danger. I have something horrible to tell you."

Danger…

Easton

I had no clue where I was headed except that I was determined to find Sara. No matter what it took or who I had to kill in order to find out. Fuck the Feds. Fuck the senator. I protected what was mine.

And she was mine.

If she thought for a minute I was going to let her go, she had another thing coming. I laughed bitterly as I scanned from right to left continuously. It had been what, two minutes since I'd tried her phone. That was long enough. At least being in the car, I was hands free, hitting a button that had her phone number already programmed.

I was so enraged I was seeing spots in front of my eyes but as the phone connected, I was rewarded by a ring. Then a second. I was so fucking elated I smacked my hand on the steering wheel. At least that meant she was alive. Another two rings. Fuck. I'd need to leave another message.

"What the hell are you doing, honey?" I asked the question out loud as if doing so would matter.

When I was certain her voicemail would come on, hearing the frightened yet angry voice instead raised more than my hackles.

"Easton."

"I'm right here, little fawn. Where are you?"

"I know… who it is. I know."

"Yeah, so do I."

"He's following me."

"You're certain?" I was trying to remain calm, but I had a feeling Marcus would kill her.

"Yeah. A dark green Chevy Cruise. But it can't be who I think it is. He drives a red truck."

I twisted my hand around the steering wheel. That was the very car he drove on a normal basis. "He has two vehicles, honey. Where are you?"

"I don't know but he's toying with me."

Yeah, the fucker would do that. It would seem that's all he was good at. "Describe where you are. Landmarks. Gas stations. Street signs. Give me anything."

She started rambling and all I could do was try to piece together what she was telling me given she was terrified. By the time I realized she was headed toward the worst part of town, the rush of adrenaline flowing through me was making it difficult to drive. I quickly calculated where I was, where I could lead her to safety and how best to protect her. "You need to listen to me very carefully. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Do you trust me?"

"Some things were said about you. Horrible things. The police are after you and your family."

"I know, honey. You need to focus on my voice and nothing else."

"Oh, God. He's speeding up."

"Listen, baby. Just listen. Here's what I need you to do. Whatever happens, do not stop. Do you hear me? Not until you've passed me on the road. Got it?"

"Got it." At least her voice had gotten slightly stronger.

She was tough. I'd give her that, but she didn't understand the power of vengeance. As I offered instructions, I flew around every corner, accelerating to well over eighty miles per hour. Just let a cop try to stop me.

"Stay on the line with me. But just drive," I instructed, praying to God she'd do exactly as I said. Even if she did, it was a real crapshoot whether I could keep her alive. One thing was clear in my mind. I would die trying.

Another turn and I was within a mile of her.

When she squealed, I pressed the gas pedal down again. "What's happening?"

"He's gaining on me. What do I do? What do I do?"

I scanned the area outside the windshield, calculating the time it would take to get to her. "There's a right turn coming up. You need to take it. From there, floor it. Do not hesitate. You'll see my car. Do not stop."

"Okay."

I wanted to cut the asshole limb from limb just for terrifying her. I yanked the weapon into my hand, jerking out a full ammunition clip and replacing it. "Are you sure about the turn?"

"Yes. I see it. He's so close. So close."

"Just do as I told you. I'm almost there." I made a turn onto the same street, calculating the time I needed.

"Turn made. He's there. Right there."

"Floor it. Now!"

I sensed she'd followed my command and slowed down, searching frantically in front of me. When I noticed her car, I was fucking grateful the bastard had pushed her into an area with little traffic. The last thing I wanted was for innocent bystanders to be hurt. But that would happen if necessary in order to keep her safe.

As her car sped up, I was hopeful she recognized the car. I climbed out, not bothering to close the door. With the weapon in both hands, I moved to the front of my car, learning how to pray all over again. She'd floored it to the point it had caught the jerk off guard, gaining at least a couple hundred yards.

"That's it, baby. That's it." Come on. Come on. I was ready, allowing the anger to move to a place of peace.

I was certain she was going to slow seeing me, but when she flew by, all I could think was ‘what a good girl.'

Then I took aim.

It took the son of a bitch only a couple of seconds to realize he wasn't going to accomplish his task. When he jerked to a stop, I aimed the weapon at his windshield, concentrating to ensure Sara had followed my instructions to the letter.

She had.

I took long strides into the middle of the street, not caring if anyone saw a man with a weapon in the middle of fucking broad daylight. The son of a bitch wasn't going to get away from me.

When he backed up, I took off running forward.

But Marcus, my old buddy and the single man I'd trusted over the last few years made the wrong decision to press down on the accelerator, gunning for me. I took position dead in the middle of the street, not holding back at all.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

A sudden sharp scream roared from behind me and I took another two shots, prepared to empty the magazine if necessary.

When he veered off, I stood exactly where I was. As he headed straight for a line of trees lining the road, I took a deep breath.

"No. No. No. No!"

I backed away, waiting for the horrible crash and when Sara flew into my arms, I was forced to turn halfway around, refusing to allow her to be hurt any more than she'd already been. I kept my weapon pointed at the man, catching a slight glimpse of his face as if in slow motion.

And the horrific smirk he was wearing as if he'd won.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay," I told her but that was the only thing I could say just before…

Boom!