She couldn’t wait any longer. Emeline eased out of the office. Display cases were smashed and broken glass littered the floor. Was there a fight? Or was this just a random act of violence?
She spotted Avery behind a display counter on the right side of the shop. Glass crunched beneath her boots. He had to have heard her approach, but he didn’t look up. Head tilted down, he remained focused on whatever lay at his feet.
Finally, he glanced over his shoulder and shifted to the side. Emeline inhaled a slow breath and made her feet keep moving forward until she stopped next to him.
“Is that Vito’s son?” he asked.
Head turned at an unnatural angle, limbs broken; Oscar almost didn’t resemble the boy she kinda knew. Tears blurred her eyes, her throat clogged, yet she managed to nod once.
He pointed to the other side of the store. “His father is over there, in the same condition.”
Emeline sank to her knees. “I did this. I shouldn’t have sold Grand’s stuff. If-if I hadn’t…they’d still be alive.”
Avery dropped down next to her. “You don’t know that.”
But she did. Without a doubt, she knew.
He pulled Emeline to her feet. “I took a quick look for the piece you described, but didn’t find it.”
That’s because Ridley and her friend had it.
“The piece could be in another location.” Avery searched the cases. “Vito could have sold it.”
If he did, maybe he and his son would still be alive. He should’ve listened when she told him to get out of town. “We need to go.”
She didn’t wait for him but marched out of the shop as fast as her feet could move. Dry heaves hit her when she cleared the doorway. Doubled over, hands on knees, her stomach tried to climb up her throat. Her breath streamed out in frosty waves, clouding her vision as much as the tears pooling in her eyes.
“Breathe. Just breathe through your mouth.” Avery rubbed her back in soothing circles.
She straightened and plunged into his embrace. His coat was open and she burrowed against the shelter of his body. Avery enveloped her and she buried her face in the musk of his neck while his hands continued sending calming waves through her.
“Your first dead body?”
His heat cocooned her, gave when she deserved none. If only…“No, but I knew them.” And it’s my fault they’re gone.
“We gotta go.” He took her hand and they strolled out of the alley like a couple taking a late night walk. There were a few people around, but none seemed to notice them.
At every pit stop on this journey, Ridley had outpaced and outsmarted her. They had part of the Key and part of an Orb while Emeline had two dead people on her conscience and one comatose former coworker.
A little help, Lord. They approached her home and she wondered about the mysterious McIntosh. She’d been dumped before by men who did her a favor by exiting, but Avery… The thought of witnessing him leave eviscerated her, yet she would do it. She’d watch him walk out of her life and remain dry-eyed, though not before she told him the truth. She owed him that and more.
Emeline stopped and he jerked to a halt beside her. His eyebrows raised in a question even as he scanned the area. Frigid air stabbed her body and whistled through her or did the coldness come from inside and radiate outward? Her mouth opened, she sucked in a shallow breath that left her lightheaded and wishing for a hit from Grand’s oxygen tank.
Just tell him. Grow a set and tell him the truth. But watching him walk away was going to kill her. No use lying to herself. Leaving is the last thing she wanted him to do, but it’s the first thing he would do.
“Planning to stay here all night?” His breath curled in the November air, partially masking his face.
“I—I need to say something.”
His shoulders rolled in the way they did when he was tense. “The floor’s yours.”
“Avery…I li—” Her cell vibrated in her coat pocket. Frustrated, she yanked it out of her pocket. Mrs. Kelly calling. “Hello.”
“Dear, your grandfather is missing.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
EJ walked through RockGate on his way to the garage. He’d called one of his regulars and she was up for a late night special. Good, ’cause he didn’t feel like working for it tonight. In and out with as little conversation as possible was the plan for the evening. He jogged down the backstairs and passed the game room. Roman, Stella, and Ember had gathered in front of the big screen playing Xbox. Seemed Hector had purchased a bunch of age-appropriate games. EJ wondered where Hector had stored Call of Duty and Assassin’s Creed. He’d better not have tossed them or he’d get tossed. Not really. No one messed with Hector. Their butler controlled everything in the house. Between the ceiling and the basement, he ruled.
Roman chuckled at something on the screen. EJ hadn’t heard that sound in a while. It was nice, especially after they’d spent the evening visiting two shuttered factories. Roman glanced his way. His eyes glowed white until he blinked and once again, they were his normal blue. He raised an eyebrow, a question as to EJ’s destination.
EJ grinned and waggled his eyebrows, the meaning: I’m out to find trouble of the female kind. Roman gave him a nod and returned to the game. With Stella and now Ember in the house, maybe things would be okay. The family deserved some okay moments. EJ cut through the kitchen and the small armory before reaching the garage, when a whistle turned him around.
“I’ve called Avery twice, but he hasn’t answered. I’ve got some info he wanted.” Quin rushed up to him. A frown marred his usually suave countenance. He shrugged on his coat covering the blades strapped to his chest.
“He’s still occupied with the girl from RedZone. What’s the info?” EJ asked.
“It’s about her. There’s a lot more to her than just a bar girl. She’s spent a lot of time at a house on Riverside Drive. I checked with some sources and there’s a rumor about a faction called the Order. Real secretive. The headquarters may be here.” Quin handed him a piece of paper. “I say we check it out and tell him about it later.” He headed for the passenger seat of the Escalade.
“No.” A hand to Quin’s chest stopped him.
Avery liked Emeline—a lot—which meant EJ liked Emeline. The two of them looked good together. His somber big bro had never been so flustered around a woman. And the look on his face when he thought no one watched him; the man was done. Take him off the rotisserie and serve him up. His brother wouldn’t appreciate anyone knowing how bad he had it, especially if things went south. EJ studied the address. “I’ll take care of this. See what else you can find out about this Order.”
EJ didn’t wait for Quin’s agreement. He hopped on his bike and left the house. A little prayer filtered through his mind as he gunned his Harley. His brother deserved some happiness and if Emeline was the woman to give it to him, then EJ would do everything in his power to accomplish that objective.
But if she wasn’t…if this address led to anything other than a crochet club, Emeline Gamble would regret the day she met anyone with the last name Nicolis.
***
“What do you mean my grandfather’s missing?” Emeline yelled into her cell. Avery stepped closer, blocking some of the wind slapping her.
“We had some refreshment, cake and tea, I excused myself to freshen up, and when I returned, he was gone,” Mrs. Kelly said.
Cake, tea, gone. That’s what Emeline heard. That’s where her brain stopped. Had Ridley snatched him? If so, why leave Mrs. Kelly alive to raise the alarm? If he left on his own, where would he go? To the house? Here? Endless questions tumbled in her mind.
Paper rustled on the other end. “Dear, he left a note.”
“A note?” So, he leaves against her wishes and leaves a note. Emeline sucked in a steadying breath and pushed back her anger. “What does it say?”
“ ‘Meet me at forty-eight Warren Ave in The Bronx and bring the Key.’ ”
“That’s it?”
Mrs. Kelly si
ghed, “Yes, Dear. I’m sorry. You left him in my care and I lost him.”
If things weren’t so serious, Emeline would’ve laughed. “You didn’t lose a 2-year-old, Mrs. Kelly. Grand knew what he was doing. He probably planned this the moment we left. I’ll call when we find him.”
“Where is he?” Avery asked when she hung up.
She told him the address while Googling it. “It’s a warehouse in the northern section of The Bronx, near Yonkers.”
“A warehouse? Could be another storage unit.”
Emeline shrugged. “He doesn’t have money for another storage unit.” She snapped.
“Hopefully this one isn’t empty.”
“Not if he went there himself. We have to get to him.” Before Ridley.
“We will get to him, Emeline. No one is going to hurt your grandfather. I promise you.”
They ran the rest of the way home, back to the stolen SUV. “We have to ditch this car.” Avery peeled out of the parking space and sprinted down the block.
“I have to get my grandfather.” Nothing came before his safety.
“I’d prefer not being arrested first.” He turned into the first parking garage he found and cruised the levels slowly, searching.
Emeline’s nerves strung tight, her mental clock ticking. Time was wasting. Precious time they didn’t have to spare. She didn’t put it past Ridley to have someone watching Mrs. Kelly’s house to make sure the old woman wasn’t a threat to her leadership of the Order. Once again, Emeline was behind the eight ball, and she had no idea when the white ball was going to smack into her, sending her careening around the pool table and deep into a side pocket. Game over. Only this wasn’t a game. Real lives were in play. Real blood would be spilled.
Avery parked and grabbed a couple of napkins from a side compartment. He gave her a few and began wiping the car down. She wanted to argue, but it made too much sense and she wouldn’t waste time distracting him from what he deemed necessary.
“Keep wiping.” He moved two aisles over to a blue Camaro. Didn’t take him long to get inside and have the engine purring. She ran over and slid into the cold leather passenger seat. A few moments later, they were on the highway, warm air blowing from the vents.
“Why has your grandfather led us around like a hooked fish?”
“He did say he didn’t trust Diane.”
“That was at the hospital. He still didn’t trust us—you—at the house.” It was a statement, not a question. And a good one.
“I guess he didn’t trust me either.” She met his gaze and though it bruised, she didn’t flinch.
“Can’t say I blame him,” he grunted and turned his gaze back to the road.
His low blow hit her in the gut, knocked the air from her lungs, and left a crimson haze over her vision. She whipped around and faced him. “Got something to say? Spit it out!”
Avery slammed on the brakes, pulled over to the shoulder, and shifted into park. Flashes of light spilled over half of his face from passing traffic, giving her peeks of his fully black eyes and menacing features. “Why me? Why were you watching me?”
“I didn’t pick you! I was assigned.” She punctuated each sentence with a fist to the dashboard. “Didn’t have a say, didn’t have a choice. You were a job. Just like I’m a job that you took. And as soon as you get a chance, you’re passing me off to ‘McIntosh’, whoever the hell that is!” The words poured out of her without a filter. She failed to say how much she enjoyed the job, relished watching him, and even pretended he knew she was there.
“And when we slept together?” His voice was thick, heavy…deadly. He stared straight ahead, not looking at her.
Suddenly, she wanted him to look at her, to see her as he did that night, needy and hungry for him, unable to deny the yearning in her heart. Not knowing what Ridley had planned for Avery steeled her resolve. Too much depended on her to trust anyone, but herself.
“Last night was just…two people…getting their grind on.” Each word out of her mouth cut, left her bleeding.
A cold wave pulsed from him, colder than the November temperature outside the car. Her breath curled in the once warm interior. His aura seethed around him, a living entity. Emeline shrank away from him, for the first time afraid.
The steering wheel creaked in his grip, metal groaned. Then he rolled his shoulders and shifted his head. Vertebrae snapped. The aura faded, though still lingered, infecting the air with aggression. Avery put the car in drive, carefully merged back into traffic, and drove the speed limit.
The moment ended, though not the tension. Never had she wished she could rewind her mouth and take the words back, until now. She didn’t want his hate, yet what else could he feel after her statement? That one sentence sealed her fate. Their fate.
“You were never a job, Emeline. You were always personal.” Though spoken low, his words echoed in the small space. They filled the empty spaces in her heart, gave her hope when she shouldn’t have any.
She studied his profile, the furrowed eyebrows, and the scowl draping his face like armor, the grim slash of his mouth, and forced her knotted emotion back down her throat. “I put my family first, Avery. You would’ve done the same.”
“But I didn’t,” he growled. “I put you first.”
His words assaulted her, TKO’d her conscience. “Who’s McIntosh?” Diversion was better than dealing with her own guilt. “Is he like you and Roman and Reign? Demi-gods?”
Silence. Then, “I am not a demi-god.”
“If you’re not a demi-god, then what are you, Avery? ’Cause you’re certainly not all human.”
Finally, he glanced her way. “What do you mean?”
In the dim interior of the car, his eyes were twin black holes sucking in the surrounding light. “Well, first there are your eyes with that dwindling strip of green whenever you pissed, let’s not forget your mobile tattoo, plus the shadowy aura hovering around you.”
Tension gathered again. “You see an aura around me?”
“I did at the Cloisters, at Mrs. Kelly’s, and a second ago. The air around you changes. Like right now.”
Silence again. Seemed she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets. Talk to me, she almost demanded. In the end, Emeline stared at the road. “I asked you about McIntosh.”
A heavy beat strung out the moment. “He’s a professional.”
Great. “What if he doesn’t want me as a client?”
“He owes the family a debt. He’ll do it.”
“Now, I’m a bargaining chip?” How much lower on the food chain could she sink?
“Did it ever occur to you to ask for help instead of lying?”
So many times. “Yeah…then I remembered you’re a mercenary and your number of kills—”
“So lying became easier than trusting me.”
Her throat constricted, but she managed a nod. Everything he said rang true. That didn’t make it easier to hear or witness his anger.
“We’re here.”
His voice dragged her away from her thoughts. She peered around Avery—leaning so close his breath tickled her neck—as he did a slow drive by in front of the warehouse. One ragged structure on a block of warehouses next to the IRT elevated train line.
“Do you see Grand?” She looked at him, their lips inches away from each other.
“No.” His tight voice held lots of irritation.
She sat back in her seat. “We need to park.”
“I know.” He spat.
“Don’t get pissy. I was just saying.” His attitude was the last thing she needed, even if it was righteous.
“I’m far from pissy. I know how to park a damn car. Or do you think I expected you to jump out and roll?” Anger flashed in his eyes.
“I don’t know what you expect—and I don’t care.” She opened the door, certain he would slam on the brakes. He did and she stepped out with a string of curses echoing from the car.
Overhead, a train rolled by, sparks flared from metal grinding metal, much
like her and her bodyguard. She dodged a few cars and jogged across the street. Avery was next to her when she stepped on the sidewalk.
Emeline looked over her shoulder. He had double parked. “I see you found a spot.” Sarcasm seasoned the sentence.
He rolled his shoulders and kept walking, their clipped pace in sync. She didn’t wait for him to open the door but flung it open herself. Chivalry now would be salt poured into the bullet holes marring her soul. She marched through the entrance, prepared to strangle anyone foolish enough to get in her way, and halted.
What greeted her wasn’t what she’d expected. A room, approximately 10,000 square feet, if she had to guess, filled with boxes, bins, plastic bags, tools of all sorts from Grand’s days as a handyman, and other assorted items filled every square inch of the room. Narrow pathways wound their way into the dark recess of the facility. Dim light from a single blacked out window and a few random light fixtures, cast shadows, leaving much of the building in darkness.
How had Grand afforded to pay for this on his fixed income? Heat coursed through her. She’d scrimped and pinched and stretched every single penny to keep them afloat when all the while he had money to blow on this sinkhole. She opened her mouth to call her grandfather’s name, but Avery’s hand covered her lips.
“Ssshh. We don’t know if he’s here. I don’t want to alert anyone. Understand?”
Emeline nodded. I should have thought of that. She glanced up and met his mostly green gaze and figured he wasn’t furious with her anymore. The hand covering her mouth slid along her jaw. Wanting, longing, need, all unfurled in her heart, momentarily diffusing her anger. Avery’s thumb stroked her lips. They parted, couldn’t help it. His other hand cupped her nape and stayed.
“Avery, I…” The rest of the words caught in her throat. What to say? Where to begin? His hand dropped from her face, yet he remained close. Butterflies took flight in her stomach.
He sighed and turned away. “Let’s find Grand and get this over with.” He took off down the pathway.
Heart weighing a ton, she followed. “Let’s get this over with,” he’d said. The words looped in her head. He wanted it over.
Evermore (Descendants of Ra: Book 3) Page 25