Chapter 11 - GRAND CENTRAL
Damien forbade her from going.
Briar went anyway.
Not alone.
That was the compromise.
Grand Central was packed with evening commuters.
People rushing.
Phones ringing.
Shoes pounding marble.
Perfect cover for a man like Corbin.
Briar wore an earpiece.
Damien’s voice came through it.
“Locker is fifty yards ahead.”
“I can see it.”
“Victor is behind you.”
“I know.”
“And I’m—”
“Trying not to bleed through your bandage.”
Silence.
Then, “Correct.”
Briar almost smiled.
She reached locker 318.
Inserted the brass key.
Her hand shook.
“Opening it.”
The metal door clicked.
Inside sat a small black notebook.
That was it.
No cash.
No drive.
No weapon.
A notebook.
Briar opened it.
Names.
Dates.
Amounts.
Judges.
Police officers.
Business owners.
Politicians.
Her grandfather’s organization had bought half the city.
Then she found one name.
MARCUS VALE.
Next to it:
AUTHORIZED CLEANUP: GABRIEL A.
Briar’s throat tightened.
“My grandfather ordered my father killed.”
Damien’s voice came through the earpiece.
“Yes.”
She turned the page.
ELENA ASHWORTH — INVESTIGATING.
Below it:
M.V. TO HANDLE.
Briar closed her eyes.
“Damien.”
“I heard.”
His voice was empty.
Elena’s death had been ordered by Marcus.
Before she could speak, someone bumped her.
Hard.
Her earpiece fell.
A hand covered her mouth.
Corbin.
He pressed something against her ribs.
“Walk.”
Briar froze.
“Don’t make me hurt people.”
She looked around.
Families.
Children.
Hundreds of strangers.
She walked.
Corbin guided her toward a service corridor.
“You look good.”
“Go to hell.”
“I missed that mouth.”
“You missed controlling me.”
He smiled.
“Same thing.”
They entered an empty hall.
Briar elbowed him.
Corbin slammed her against the wall.
Pain flashed through her head.
“There she is.”
Briar spat in his face.
His smile disappeared.
He raised his hand.
A growl stopped him.
Caesar stood at the end of the hallway.
Briar’s eyes widened.
“How—”
Damien stepped behind the dog.
Pale from blood loss.
Gun in hand.
“Touch her again.”
Corbin turned.
Damien’s voice was ice.
“And Caesar gets dinner.”
Corbin laughed.
“You won’t shoot me here.”
“No.”
Damien lowered the gun.
Corbin smiled.
Then Victor appeared behind him.
“But I might.”
Corbin spun.
Briar moved.
She grabbed his wrist.
Twisted.
Corbin roared.
The gun hit the floor.
Caesar charged.
Corbin slammed through a side door.
Victor chased.
Briar followed.
“Briar!” Damien shouted.
Too late.
She reached the alley just in time to see Corbin jump into a van.
The door slammed.
It sped away.
Victor cursed.
Damien reached Briar.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
Then saw the notebook was gone.
Her stomach dropped.
“Corbin took it.”
Damien looked toward the van.
His phone buzzed.
A photo arrived.
Briar’s mother tied to a chair.
Under it:
MIDNIGHT. PIER 19. COME ALONE.
Damien read the message.
Then looked at Briar.
“No.”
May you like
She met his eyes.
“Yes.”
