41

Clinton
I stared at the text for the fifth time before heading toward the exit from the building. She was alive. Ava . The woman who’d haunted my dreams for years. The beautiful girl I would have given everything I owned to see just one more time. The stunning creature who’d awakened my black soul. Alive.
Only she had a new identity, her face similar but different enough I hadn’t recognized her. But now, I realized there was no doubt. None.
Everything made sense now. The way Maria felt in my arms. The intense connection. The electricity that I’d only felt once in my life with a girl who’d died because of my sins. Our sins. Our entitlement.
She was alive.
And she belonged to us.
One thought burned into the back of my mind. Was she behind the nasty game? Had it been invented to satisfy a taste of revenge herself? I wouldn’t put it past her. As much as I wanted to keep her as our pet, spending days and nights embroiled in passion, if we found out she had anything to do with our planned demise, she would face my wrath.
The three of us said nothing as we made our way into the night, leaving the asshole Bart to face a demise of a different level. I was certain whoever had used him would clean up their messes. That’s the way it worked. The players in the game were vicious. It was obvious they’d underestimated us.
Perhaps I should feel guilty for leaving Bart to the wolves, but he meant nothing to me. I sensed Weston no longer gave a damn about the lost revenue or the ploy used to get him to Chicago in the first place. It had been a well-orchestrated game, Maria learning much from her father. I wondered if the fuck was even still alive. I’d find out one way or the other, even if I had to go to Fiji personally.
“You don’t honestly believe Maria is Ava .” There was no emotion in Christian’s voice, but between the three of us, the current ebbing and flowing could light up an entire city block.
“What do you think?” I asked, cursing under my breath. Marty headed towards the SUV while we stood back under the dim light of the building’s entrance.
“Maria is not the same person.” Weston was defiant in his statement, but I heard the question in his voice.
“You know there are too many similarities.” I paced the parking lot, needing to crush something between my fingers to try and abate the anger. “The fucking nightmares. The connection we share. The singing. She was a fucking music major. Remember?”
“She doesn’t look anything like Ava .” Weston’s insistence surprised me. Did he not see what was staring him smack in the face? She’d coordinated the attacks. She’d led the charge in seeking revenge because of the accident. I was certain of it.
I was also certain I was maddeningly, shockingly in love with the woman. I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind for more than a few seconds at a time. I scrubbed my jaw and tried to figure out how to handle this. I couldn’t allow her to destroy everything I worked so hard to achieve.
“It’s her, Weston. You fucking know it,” Christian said. Weston had his hand wrapped around Christian’s throat in a split second, issuing a hard punch to his gut before slamming him against the brick facade.
“You motherfucker!”
“You know I’m right. There’s nothing we can do about it,” Christian threw out.
Weston refused to believe, pulling back then slamming his fist into the man’s jaw.
“That’s it. Stop it, both of you. This isn’t solving anything. We need to think this through. If Ava is a part of this ruse, which I’m not ready to believe, she’s not working alone. There are too many working pieces, including being able to successfully handle an extortion scheme. I’m beginning to believe you were right, Cris, in that this isn’t her father’s doing either. We need to be smart about this. We’re acting like idiots, which is exactly what the perpetrator wants.” Shit. At this point, I had no idea what to think.
“It’s not her,” Weston insisted.
“We can’t rule anything out.”
“Fuck you!” Weston crossed into my space, preparing to give me a beat down just like he’d done with Christian. Like hell I was going to allow that to happen.
I shoved him hard and he threw himself at me, ready to tear me a new one. At this point, I wouldn’t mind getting bloody to ease the tension.
Neither one of us had the chance, the roar of an engine and the pepper of gunfire taking precedence.
“Fuck!” Marty snarled. I caught a glimpse of him, a bullet slamming into his shoulder. Bullets pinged against one of the parked cars, only inches away from both Weston and myself.
I dropped and rolled, reaching for my weapon, noticing Christian had bolted toward them.
“Go. Go. Go!” he was yelling at Marty as he fired off an entire magazine of ammunition. He was always ready for a fight, his father’s tutelage superior even to mine.
Another round of gunfire forced me to my knees. I reacted without hesitation, firing off several shots across the street. The fuckers had been lying in wait. They’d known we were headed to meet with Bart. Nothing was coincidental.
“What the hell?” Weston slammed his body against another SUV, jerking his head around the front fender. He carefully got off a couple rounds, but at this point none of the assailants were in view, the offending vehicle roaring off into the darkness.
But they’d be back.
They’d come here to do a job, and they wouldn’t leave until it was finished, or they were lying in a pool of blood. I chose the latter. I had far too much to live for.
Including finishing the revenge started twenty years before. “That’s what we need to find out. We’re going to end this Goddamn charade once and for all.” I could tell the driver was turning around, ready to make another pass.
Weston laughed. “You remember what we did with that asshole back in Kentucky?”
“Hell, yeah.” I peered over the vehicle, realizing both Marty and Christian had taken out whoever had been in position on land. With no other shots fired from other locations, perhaps the remaining assassins were in the unknown vehicle. We’d surrounded one jerk who’d been determined to take us down, stealing vital information from the Elite’s Estate. We’d hunted him. Cornered him. Flushed him out. Then we’d had our fun deep in the woods. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to skin a cat, but we could corner the sons of bitches.
It would seem Christian knew what we had in mind, directing Marty to the middle of the street. Weston and I raced towards it as well, all four of us with our guns directed at the road. The assassins likely figured out what we were doing, slowing down as they approached. This would be dicey at best, but it was the only way to try and figure out who they were working for.
I sensed the moment the driver pressed down on the accelerator, lifting my weapon even higher, using both hands. Christian took his time slapping another magazine into his Glock. A quick glance in his direction and the gas station sign highlighted his evil grin. The man lived for danger and bloodshed.
Some people say near death moments go by in slow motion, allowing the participants to view everything that occurs frame by frame. Maybe I never gave a shit about anything but the outcome because in the matter of a few seconds, a barrage of gunfire ensued from both sides, glass shattering and brakes squealing before the vehicle suddenly veered off course, crashing into the side of a building.
There was no time to waste, the stench of gasoline and the sight of black smoke rolling from the crushed hood a clear indication a fire would start at any time. We raced in the direction, hoping to obtain anything leading us to the instigator of the attempted assassination.
I headed to one side, prepared to throw open a door.
“Get down!” Weston’s voice rang over the creaks and hisses. I did so without hesitation, the single shot followed by one of the enemies falling on his face on the pavement.
I threw him a look of thanks, then grabbed the fallen man, dragging him away from the SUV. After patting him down, the only thing I found was his license. At least I had identification, although that might not help at all. Christian checked the others.
“Nothing,” Christian barked a few seconds later. “They knew we’d check for ID.”
I held up what I had and shook my head, all of us coughing. What a shitshow.
The smoke was acrid, burning my eyes. Then a flame licked up from under the hood. The four men were dead.
“Let’s get out of here,” I told them.
“Boss. Do you want me to get a cleanup crew?” Marty asked, wincing in pain.
“No time. I have a feeling the cops will be all over this.” While I didn’t like it messy, most of the police force was in my pocket, so there wouldn’t be any pushback. Still, it was obvious I was off my game.
“Come on. We need to get back to the resort. We have some things to deal with.” There was a faraway look in Weston’s eyes as he made the recommendation. I knew the moment I saw him with Maria that he’d been pulled into her sweet lair.
I still found it difficult to believe she was Ava .
A part of me wanted to shove her in a cage, force her to tell us the truth, then kill her. The other wanted to wrap her in my arms. Fuck. This whole thing was a mess.
That we’d created years before. If only we’d kept our dicks inside our jeans.
We jogged to the other side of the road just as the fire reached the gas tank. Flames rushed towards the heavens.
I shook my head, then climbed inside. “You okay, Marty?”
“Just a scratch, sir.”
“Get it checked out back at the resort.” I rubbed my eyes before dialing Brock.
“Boss,” he answered.
“We had an incident. Make certain you get a couple other men on Ms. Sadler, and have others walk the resort inside and out.”
“Uh, boss. We have an issue.”
“What do you mean an issue?”
“It’s Ms. Sadler.”
I sucked in my breath. “What about her?”
“Well, she’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere. She’s nowhere to be found.”