18. Drew

Chapter eighteen

Drew

I doused what was left of Tony’s body in gasoline and then started soaking the walls and floors of the building. I probably didn’t need this much fuel since this old building would burn like kindling, but I’d rather have too much than not enough. I could hear Zach on the first floor singing Usher’s Let It Burn at the top of his lungs as he spread gasoline. I emptied the cans I brought, returned them to the truck, and followed the sound of his terrible singing.

I stood dumbstruck when I found him. He stood in the middle of the room, sporadically swinging the gas can around. It was like a baby elephant first discovering its trunk. “What the fuck are you doing?” I asked.

He spun toward me, and I jumped back to avoid the gas that flew from the can in an arc. “Spreading gasoline,” he replied.

“While practicing ballet?” I asked.

Zach looked at me in confusion, unable to understand what I was referencing. I looked down and saw the two other cans I had given him, which were still full. Sometimes, working solo is more efficient.

“Hey! Those are mine,” Zach protested when I picked them up.

“You just keep working on this room, Bud. I’ll get the others.”

I left him to continue his pirouettes and gassed up the rest of the ground floor. Trailing gas back to the door, I turned in time to see Zach skipping toward me, hopping back and forth over the trail of gas. He was entirely too excited about this. “Ok,” I said, handing him one of the Molotov cocktails I brought, “We’re going to light them at the same time and then throw them through the door. I’ll just move the truck to the other side of the— JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, ZACH! THROW IT!”

Zach hadn’t waited for instructions. The second I handed him the cocktail and turned my back, he had the fucking thing lit. Zach threw the bottle at the building, which shattered when it hit the door frame. I heard the whoosh as the gas inside the building caught and began ripping through it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked him.

“What? Was I not supposed to do that?” Zach asked.

“You’re fine,” I sighed. Technically, Zach did what I wanted him to do, and from the looks of it, we only needed one Molotov. “Just do me a favor, and in the future, wait until I tell you to light it.”

“Ok,” Zach replied.

We watched the building burn for a few more minutes until I saw flames engulfing the third floor. “Ok, let’s get out of here,” I said as we heard sirens in the distance. The fire department would keep the fire contained to the building, but I doubt they would try to put it out at this point. The building was already condemned. We were doing the city a favor. And if they found Tony’s body, they would assume that it was a homeless person. The entire thing was a win-win for all involved, except for maybe Tony and his family.

When we got home, the house was quiet, and Tyler was coming down the stairs, already changed into a pair of sweats.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“As good as can be expected with Zach, the psychotic puppy, as your partner,” I replied.

“Hey!” Zach protested. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“But was it inaccurate?” I teased.

“No,” Zach grinned. “Where’s Layla?”

“She took the wolves to the basement to give them a bath since they’re covered in blood,” Tyler replied. Zach left for the basement without another word. “Get this. I checked the cameras at the apartment, and Sean left a note on the board stating that he wanted burgers and whiskey. As if we’d bring that to him,” Tyler scoffed.

“I can bring him some burgers and whiskey,” I replied.

“Seriously?” Tyler asked. “Why would you do that? He doesn’t deserve it.”

I shrugged. “Sean’s been cooped up in the house for a while now, stuck eating whatever food you’ve had delivered.”

“I’m not in charge of his grocery order anymore,” Tyler replied, “Colton seems to think Sean needs more than bread and water.”

“You’re brutal, man,” I laughed.

“He’s lucky he isn’t chained up in a dark basement somewhere,” Tyler replied.

“You’ll have to find a way to make peace with him, Ty. He’ll be back in our lives full-time soon enough.”

“I know. I’m just not ready to stop making him suffer every chance I get,” Tyler replied.

“Fair enough. I’d like to talk to him, so I’ll run back out and grab those burgers.”

“If you think you can fit it in, poke him in the eye for me,” Tyler replied as he left the foyer.

I shook my head. Tyler was holding a grudge, which wasn’t characteristic of his nature. He was usually more understanding. Hopefully, he will be able to clear the air with Sean. Otherwise, it could worsen what will already be a potentially awkward living situation when Sean is resurrected.

Forty minutes later, I entered the apartment with a bag of fast-food burgers and a bottle of whiskey. Sean jumped to his feet and backed away from me as soon as the door swung open. I ignored him as I tossed the bag on the table and set the whiskey bottle beside it. I got us both a glass of ice and took a seat. Sean was still nervously standing in the living room.

“Are you going to sit?” I asked.

“You aren’t going to beat on me?” Sean replied cautiously.

“Why would I?”

“Because you’re pissed at me? And usually, anytime I get a visitor, I get my ass kicked first. Colt brought the Renegades by to beat on me, and Zach stopped by a few days ago to use me as a punching bag. It seems to be a pattern.” Sean crept closer to the table, but I could tell he was still tense and waiting for me to attack.

“Sit. I’m not going to hit you,” I assured him. I took half the burgers from the bag and tossed it to the other end of the table. I added whiskey to my glass and slid Sean’s glass and the bottle down the table. Sean grabbed the bottle before sitting and pouring a drink for himself. He took a healthy sip of the alcohol and sighed happily. I watched as he tore into his first burger before starting in on mine. We ate in an almost comfortable silence for several minutes before I finally spoke, asking the one question plaguing me.

“Why?” I asked him. “Not why you did it. As fucked up and stupid as it was to allow Layla to get kidnapped, I understand the extreme rationale to keep her safe at all costs. I get how, in some twisted way, you thought it might help. I don’t understand why you didn’t come clean with us afterward. You had plenty of opportunities to admit what you’d done. You had to know the truth would come out eventually, so why didn’t you make sure we heard it from you first and not Anton?”

“I was scared,” Sean admitted. “I thought if I did everything I could to make up for it, it wouldn’t matter. And we were going to take Anton down, so I didn’t expect it to ever come to light.”

“But by not coming clean, you gave him power over Layla!” I shouted, my anger bubbling over. “You allowed him to have something to hold over her head. He will always have that satisfaction, and she will always have that moment when her world fell apart around her at the hands of her enemy because of you!”

Sean hung his head. “I know,” he said softly. “If I could go back and do things differently, I would.”

I sighed heavily as I tried to reel in my anger. Blowing up on Sean didn’t help us move past this, and we did need to. When Layla discovers that Sean is alive, she won’t be happy, even if she is relieved. It would help if we could present a united front to her. If things are still rocky between us, then they will also be rocky between Layla and Sean. I knew my girl; she was loyal to a fault, and if we put her in a position where she had to choose between us, she would cast Sean out despite her feelings for him.

“I know you do,” I replied, scrubbing my hands down my face. “I just need to know that you won’t do it again. That you will talk to us, even if you think we’re going to kick your ass for what you’re about to say. This relationship, this family, it isn’t going to work if we’re keeping secrets from each other. And I want it to work, Sean.”

“So do I,” he replied emphatically. “More than anything!”

“Good,” I replied, pouring myself another drink. I felt better about the Sean situation, and now that we talked, I was more anxious than ever to tell Layla he was alive. My phone rang just as I was lifting the glass to my lips. “Yeah, Colt?” I said when I answered it.

“Get back to the house, now. We have a situation,” he snapped.

“On my way,” I said, nearly tipping my seat over as I stood quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Sean asked, standing as well.

“I’m not sure, but I have to go. All Colton said was that there was a situation,” I replied.

“Can you try to let me know what’s going on?” Sean asked. “Or, at the very least, let me know if Layla is ok?”

I paused, remembering the other item I had picked up on my way here. I took it out of my pocket and tossed it to him. It was one of those kid phones that can only call two preprogrammed numbers. “It isn’t much, but it’s something,” I told him. “The only number programmed is mine. I’ll call you with an update when I know.”

“Thank you!” Sean replied. “I’ll take what I can get. I appreciate it, Drew.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” I warned before leaving.

When I returned to the house, I could tell something was up. Joe had a small team with him, and they searched the undercarriage of my truck. “What’s going on, Joe?” I asked when he came to my window.

“Not entirely certain. I was just told we were on a level two lockdown,” Joe replied.

“Thanks, Joe.” Once clear, I pulled through the gates and parked by the front door. “Park this,” I barked at one of the men posted outside the front door.

“Yes, Sir,” he replied, rushing to do as he was told.

Colton was waiting for me in the foyer. “What’s going on? Is Layla ok?”

“She’s fine. It would seem Tyler’s buddies got Senior,” Colton replied. I followed behind him as he turned and walked away. We were heading toward Layla’s office.

“We finally heard from them?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then how do we know that they got him?” If Colt didn’t start answering with fucking details, I was going to knuckle-punch him in the arm.

“Because Junior called Layla demanding she return him,” he replied. “And if we don’t, he has threatened to blow up the house.”

“What did Layla say?”

“She’s still talking to him.” He held a finger to his lips and pushed the office door open.

“I’m not fucking playing with you, Layla. If you harm my father in any way, you will live to regret it.” Anton’s voice came from the speaker in the middle of the conference table. Layla lounged in her chair, unperturbed, with her feet crossed on her desk. She was smiling like the cat that ate the canary.