Eye for an Eye (Take a Chance Book 2)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  “You’ve seen her, Jaxon. She winces when one of us playfully punches the other. She cried when she found that dead cat on the main road coming into work. Hell, remember the time she fucked up the roster? After she apologised profusely, she went to the toilet to cry. I heard her. You could see it on her face that she hated the thought she let us down. She wouldn’t hurt us like that. It would hurt her. She can’t stand hurting people or seeing people hurt. She wouldn’t let us be killed.”

  Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he turns his back to me, exhaling heavily. “I don’t think it’s Evie, but I had to ask. You’re the closest to her. I just don’t understand who it could have been. We need to stop him from getting information, Wyatt.”

  “But that was the only information he had. We had that large shipping order a few weeks before that could have cost us our business if something had gone wrong. He couldn’t have known about that. If he did, he would have sabotaged the whole thing,” I muse, leaning against the metal railing.

  He turns back to me, a relieved look crossing his face. “You’re fucking right. Liam got in my head when he threw around the idea that it could have been an inside job. It kept going over and over in my mind. Please don’t tell her I said anything.”

  I chuckle, smacking his shoulder. “I won’t,” I promise. “But it’s worth a shot to speak to the Franklin siblings and see if they spoke to anyone prior to the fire about us being there.”

  He nods, letting out a weary smile. “I will. I’m sick of waiting for him to come at us again. I want to rip his head off, but I can’t risk leaving Lily vulnerable if I get caught. We need to do something. He can’t keep thinking he can get away with it. Burning that warehouse down isn’t close to justice or payback.”

  “He’s going to regret ever fucking messing with us, Jaxon, I swear to you. But you need to take care of Lily.”

  He forces out a laugh, dropping down on the doorstep. “Trust me, if it weren’t for Lily, I would have killed him and burned his empire to the ground. We are better than this, Wyatt. He’s making a laughing stock out of us. We can’t keep being on the defence.”

  I take a seat next to him on the step. “No, he fucking isn’t. Men like Black won’t care if we burn a few buildings down or kick the shit out of them. They can rebuild and heal. Hell, he would expect it and has probably got a plan in place to get us arrested.”

  “I know you’re right, but it fucking kills me, Wyatt.”

  “I know,” I agree, giving him a blank expression. “Which is why Eli and I are planning to hurt him in the only way a man like him can be hurt.”

  Intrigued, Jaxon sits forward. “And how’s that?”

  “Take everything he holds dear and destroy it,” I tell him solemnly.

  “Does he care about anything?” Jaxon asks doubtfully.

  “Yes. Image, power and money. Take all that and what does he have left?”

  Jaxon grins. “Fuck all.”

  I grin back. We have kept this under wraps in case we couldn’t pull it off. But the more we’ve unravelled about Black, the easier everything fell into place. I just feel like we’re missing a part of the puzzle when it comes to him.

  “Exactly. He has a thing for cheating on his wife. If I were to take a guess, I’d say she isn’t oblivious to the fact, but she stays for the lifestyle and image. I’m willing to bet she didn’t divorce him because it was never public knowledge; therefore, she could keep her lifestyle and do it without the embarrassment or scandal. He also has two kids that took us longer to find since he has covered their tracks. I guess he didn’t want people to know about them. But who would with enemies at every corner?

  “Once his power over people is destroyed, he will crumble, Jax. But first, we need to ruin his image and destroy his company, or at least wreck it to the point his daddy announces another heir.”

  “I feel like a fool. Here I was, thinking none of us were doing anything, but you and Eli have been planning this all along. I’m the oldest. I’m supposed to be doing this.”

  I smirk, shrugging. “We also don’t have a pregnant wife at home to worry about.”

  “Let’s take his family away from him and ruin his image,” Jaxon orders, getting up and dusting his combat trousers off. “It’s only fair since he nearly took mine from me.”

  “Consider it done,” I reply, getting up. “Now, can I go fuck my girlfriend?”

  He chuckles, slapping me on the back. “She’s your girlfriend?”

  “Well no, that was a slip of the tongue. She’s my woman.”

  “Does she know what that means?”

  “No, but she will,” I tell him, winking. I jog backwards to my car, my smile wide. “I told you she’d be mine.”

  “Yeah, you did,” he calls back, heading in the direction of his car.

  Laughter spills out of me as I click the button to unlock my car before sliding in. Evie is mine. I don’t give a fuck how soon it is or how quick it’s happened between us. From the moment I met her I wanted her under me. Now I just want her. I like being around her.

  *** *** ***

  A fragile old lady struggles to open the main door to Evie’s building when I head up the path. I rush over, holding the door open for her, giving her my best charming smile.

  “What a good boy,” she murmurs, pushing her trolley bag through the door before beaming up at me.

  I wink, causing her to blush. “Have a good day, and be careful on the path,” I order, waiting until she’s safely down the stairs before heading inside. I take the stairs two at a time up to Evie’s floor. I forgot to message her before I left, and thanks to Jaxon, I’m running late. It’s half five and I said I’d be here for five.

  A heavenly aroma wafts through the gap under her door and my stomach growls with hunger. I lift my hand, ready to knock, when the door flies open. Evie comes to a sudden stop, her bag hanging over her shoulder.

  She closes her eyes, groaning. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt. I completely forgot you were coming now.”

  “Were you going somewhere? I know I’m a little late, but I thought we would spend the evening together.”

  “No, I forgot I had visitation tonight to see my mum,” she explains, ducking her head. “Why don’t you wait for me here? I’ll be an hour at the most. I swear.”

  “It’s okay if you have to cancel,” I tell her softly. I’ve tried to talk to her about her mum a few times, but she shuts it down so fast I get whiplash. She cares deeply for her, I can tell, but there’s something else there. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

  “No, no,” she murmurs, her face sagging. She looks utterly devastated and conflicted.

  “It’s fine. I’ll wait here if you want,” I assure her, pulling her into my arms. “Don’t worry about me. I’m good. I can go through your knicker drawer.”

  She bites her lip, her gaze wandering around her small flat. I thought she’d at least laugh or smack me for my comment. She doesn’t even twitch. If anything, she looks seconds away from either bolting or vomiting.

  “Why don’t you come with me? You might have to wait in the— Actually, that’s worse. You probably don’t want to go there,” she rushes out, paling a little.

  I grin, leaning down to capture her lips in a quick kiss. “Let’s go see your mum, babe. Then we can come back and eat whatever you have in that oven that smells so fucking good.”

  “It’s beef stew,” she whispers, her gaze dropping to my lips. Giving her what she wants, I lean forward, pressing my lips to hers, growling when her tongue slides against mine.

  When we pull apart, I’m semi-hard. Shaking off my desire, I say, “Let’s go then.”

  She pulls my hand back when I go to leave, stopping me. “Wouldn’t you rather wait here?”

  I roll my eyes. “Stop worrying about whether I’ll be bored or uncomfortable. I’ll be fine.”

  She bites her bottom lip, running something through her mind before she nods. “Okay. Okay. But just—”

  “I’ll be fine,”
I declare, shutting her door before leading her down the stairs.

  When we get outside, I take her hand, pulling her towards my car.

  She stops in the open doorway, tilting her head to look up at me, her expression soft. “Thank you for being so understanding. The stew is on low and will be fine for another hour.”

  I lean down, pressing another kiss to her lips. “You don’t need to thank me, babe. I get to spend time with you, so I’m good. Maybe I’ll get to know you a little more. You’re a little closed off.”

  She shrugs, glancing away. “There’s only me and my mum. The rest is complicated, so there’s nothing much to say.”

  “Paisley said you lost your dad,” I state softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

  Her eyes glass over as she turns away, her chest rising and falling heavily. “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how it feels to lose someone so important in your life. My dad was our world. He was our biggest supporter and was forever teaching us life lessons or a skill on the farm. It was hard when he died. He was our hero,” I tell her, feeling my throat close. It’s still hard and I miss him every day. It’s hard to explain, and the only way I can describe the first few years is that it was like losing a part of myself; a limb, an organ. It was hard to breathe without him with us.

  Evie clutches my shirt, resting her forehead against my chest. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  I pull back, lifting her chin with my knuckles. “I’m sorry for bringing up bad memories for you.”

  “Please, don’t,” she chokes out, a tear sliding down her cheek.

  “Fuck! I’m sorry.”

  She shakes her head, wiping away her tears. “No. Don’t be. I’m just… I need to see my mum.”

  I bring her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her. “Let’s go see your mum.”

  She pulls back, sniffing, before bending to get in the car. I go to shut the door, but she stops me, holding it open.

  “You’re a good guy, Wyatt. A really good guy.”

  I smirk, winking. “Don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a rep.”

  Laughing, she pulls her legs into the car. “All right.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  WYATT

  Evie sits staring out the window, biting her thumbnail as her legs bounce. I can’t work out why she’s so nervous about seeing her mum. Is it because she attacked her the last time she was here?

  I clear my throat as we near the home. “What is your mum like?”

  Placing her palms on her thighs, her legs stop bouncing. She lets out a sigh, dropping back against the headrest. “She’s beautiful. Her personality isn’t the same as it used to be. She was kind, full of love, but also naïve, and as sad as it is to say… lonely. She would do anything for anyone without a second thought. But she also suffered with depression at times. People around her took advantage. Now she’s confused, angry, and a shell of her former self.”

  “You miss her,” I state, hearing it in her tone.

  “I do. There are times when I wonder what she would have been like if—” She clears her throat, glancing back out the window. “I wanted to keep looking after her, but I couldn’t keep her safe. She needed around the clock care that I couldn’t give her.”

  “How long has she been here?”

  “In this home? Not long.”

  “I’m sorry she’s sick. Do you have any other family?”

  Her answer is immediate. “No.”

  “What happens during your visits? Do you play boardgames, talk, play other games?”

  She wipes at her face, and with a quick glance, I notice a tear roll down her cheek. My gut clenches.

  “We talk. Or she talks. I’ll listen. Other times she will spend the time arguing or being scared of me. I stopped trying to explain who I am a while back. Sometimes she remembers me, sometimes she doesn’t.”

  I put the car into park outside the home and watch as she scans the car park before relaxing back into the seat. She is so on edge. What is she hiding?

  “I’ll come in and wait for you,” I tell her.

  She absently nods, pushing open her door. I follow, watching her curl into herself. She isn’t the same person I have come to know. She loves her mum. I can hear it in her voice when she talks about her. But her body language right now is tense, and she looks prepared for an attack. My chest aches with a heavy thud over her pain. It must be hard to watch the person who raised you look the same, but not act or be the same.

  We step into the lavish reception area and I arch an eyebrow, whistling through my teeth. This isn’t paid for through our healthcare system. This is private, and I don’t pay Evie enough to afford a place like this.

  “Go on in,” the receptionist barks out, narrowing her gaze on Evie like they know each other.

  Evie forces a small smile. “Well thank you, Teresa.”

  The brunette turns her attention to me, her beady eyes scanning me up and down. “You can sit over there. You aren’t on the list of visitors.”

  “I’m sure Evie won’t mind letting me in,” I bite out, not liking her tone or her treatment towards Evie.

  “It’s not up to Evie. It’s up to—”

  “Wyatt’s fine with sitting in the waiting area,” she blurts out, her voice rising.

  I keep my narrowed gaze on the woman. The way she keeps glaring at Evie has my hackles rising. And from Evie’s reaction, she’s used to being spoken to like that. For a place she’s clearly paying a whack for, she should be treated with respect.

  I let Evie pull me away, and it’s a good thing too because I’m ready to give this woman a piece of my mind. She shoves me down onto the sofa, letting out a breath.

  “Please be good. I won’t be long.”

  I glance up at her, relaxing my expression. “Take all the time you need.”

  She leaves and I lean back, resting my arms along the back of the sofa and spreading my legs apart.

  In the corner is a coffee station, but when the label of the brand catches my eye, I revolt, changing my mind about moving to make one. We had one when we first started our company and it tasted like mud. I can’t think of anything worse than that brand.

  I scan the room, ignoring the receptionist who is keeping a close eye on me, her eyes in slits.

  I don’t get the TV’s mounted on the wall, playing a repeated ad about the facility. For one, it’s a waste of money.

  A snort slips free at the loving family environment it portrays on the screen. It is fuck all like that here. I don’t see anyone smiling or sitting outside enjoying the fresh air. It looks more like a prison than it does a care home.

  An alarm blares near the reception area and I sit up, concerned when two security guys come running out of a room.

  “It’s Miss Wilson again,” one of the guards informs the receptionist.

  I stand at hearing Evie’s last name being mentioned and begin to follow.

  “You can’t go back there,” the receptionist yells, but I ignore her, following the security guards.

  It’s only a few minutes before I hear Evie yelling, “Mum, please, it’s me.”

  Her scream echoes down the hall, and I make it to the room in time to grab Evie before she falls to the floor.

  There is glass on the floor from broken vases, the bedsheets are rumpled, and the chair is on its side.

  A lady with blonde, knotted and frazzled hair screams in the corner. Her startling grey eyes, much like her daughter’s, are wide, her pupils dilated as she watches the guards approaching her. She kicks and slaps at the nurses, her face tight and bright red.

  “Imposters. I don’t want her here. She’s poisoning me. He told me,” she screams, raking her nails down the guard’s face.

  I wince, turning away to look down at Evie. Her face is pale, her shoulders slumped forward as she leans into my arms.

  “Mum,” Evie brokenly whispers, collapsing into my arms.

  I support her weight, holding her against my chest as another doctor steps i
nto the room, holding a needle.

  “What’s happened?” I ask softly, watching them strap her mum to the bed.

  “She thinks I’m poisoning her.”

  “Someone told her that?” I grit out, anger storming through me.

  Who would be sick enough to say that to a sick woman?

  “It doesn’t matter. We should go,” Evie whispers, sounding utterly lost.

  “She’s calm now,” I tell her, pulling her into my chest and holding her close.

  “It doesn’t last long. I don’t want her any more distressed than she is.”

  “Miss Wilson, maybe coming here was a bad idea. We’ve warned you before about disrupting your mother’s care,” a doctor in his mid-forties barks.

  Evie flinches, and I pull her behind me, stepping closer to the doctor. “Don’t fucking speak to her like that ever again. I mean it. Who the fuck do you think you are? Her mum is sick, and she wants to be here for her.”

  His gaze sears through me, and then he looks over my shoulder. “I’d leave now, Miss Wilson, before I make a phone call.”

  I feel her step up behind me, linking her fingers through mine, trying to pull me away. I don’t budge, staring at the man in front of me. “Evie, this is your mum. You have every right to be here.”

  “Wyatt, please, take me home. I’m too tired,” she pleads, and I soften, pulling her into my arms.

  Her mascara has smudged under her eyes from the tears falling. I inhale sharply at the three jagged scratch marks on her cheek. Her mum attacked her. Again.

  Her shoulders hunch and she ducks her head, a sniffle escaping her. I squeeze my arm around her, running a hand up and down her back. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

  She doesn’t speak, letting me guide her out. I’m missing something here, something big. How she is being treated isn’t right. And some fucker has been turning her mum against her. I can’t imagine how she’s feeling right now.

  After getting her back into the car, I shut the door, then pause at the back of the car, where I pull my phone out and dial Jaxon.

  It rings twice before he answers. “Hello?”