Lost for You (26 page)

I try to take a deep breath, but this betrayal of sorts is too much to deal with. “Here’s Elle,” I say as I hand the phone over to her and walk away into the bedroom. I need to clear my head. This must be how Elle felt when I told her everything about the job and the company.

It’s a cluster fuck of epic proportions.

When Elle comes into the room a few minutes later, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands as I try to come to grips with this new information. My boss is my uncle. I’m related by blood to one of the most prolific crime families in the South. Fuck! If it wasn’t enough to be related to Evans, now I have a criminal history on both sides.

“Babe, are you okay? Aunt Sylvie explained everything to me,” she says as she sits beside me on the bed.

“Not really,” I say into my hands. “It fits, though. Everything Victor’s done for me, always looking out for me, and now you. It all makes sense.”

I feel her lean into my side, resting her cheek on my arm. “It’ll be okay, Brax. What are you going to do now?”

Lifting my head up, I look over at my beautiful girl. She’s always looking for the positives in any situation. “What I have to. They’ve left me no choice now. Do you have my phone?” I ask, standing up.

She hands my phone to me but still looks worried. She’s got nothing to worry about now. Brimstone has been charged and is going to be put away for a long time, and Gibbons has been dealt with. I can’t tell her that, though.

There is no doubt in my mind what happened once Devon and I left that run down shack. The two gun shots that boomed out into that night air behind us as we ran away were the final nail in Gibbons’ coffin. You never cross Michael Evans, especially when it comes to blood. And for all his faults, Evans holds his family, especially his two sons, above everything else. I need to find out what happened, but that call will have to wait. There is another family member I need to speak to first.

I bring up his number and push send, my hand shaking as I bring the phone up to my ear.

“Brax,” he says when the call connects.

“Vic, or should that be Uncle Vic?” I say deadpan.

“She told you,” he says with a sigh of relief. The man has the audacity to be relieved?

“You should’ve told me years ago, instead of letting me search for her and continually come up empty handed. You knew all along who and where she was.” I can’t hide the venom in my voice now.

“Yes, I did, but she asked me not to tell you. She just wanted to know that you were safe and happy.”

“I was never happy. Not until I met Elle. You know that.”

“And she knows that too,” he adds.

I’ve made my decision. Now, to tell him. It’s something I’ve considered, given recent developments, but this final piece of information has cemented my future. “Well, you know what this means.”

“What, Brax?”

“I can’t work for you anymore. I can’t have anything to do with your business, legal or otherwise,” I say spitefully.

“I had assumed that would be the case, given that you’re not living down here anymore. What about Shay?” he asks, apparently not surprised with my decision.

“That’s his call. I’m not gonna tell him what to do.” And it’s true. He may be my best friend, and someone I regard as a brother, but I’m not going to hold it against him if he chooses to continue working for Victor.

“Okay. Well, I’ll settle everything at this end. Do you want me to sell the house?” he asks. Roger and Leah’s house; the house I’ve lived in for most of my life. The house Victor helped me save when the bank was about to foreclose.

“No, I’ll deal with it. And Vic?”

“Yes?”

“Gibbons is dead. Evans shot him,” I reply stoically.

He scoffs down the phone. “I know. Have you not seen the news this morning?”

“No.”

“Well, it might pay to read the newspaper. It seems that your father is at it again, hogging the limelight and seeking hero status. I’ll be in touch, Brax.” The line goes dead.

And that is that.

I’m now unemployed, and to be honest, I’ve never been more relieved in my life.

“Sweetheart, have you collected the paper today?” I ask Elle as I walk back into the bedroom. She’s lying down on our bed, reading one of her romance novels that I love teasing her about.

“Yeah, it’s on the coffee table with the mail,” she says, looking up at me with those soft green eyes of hers. God I love this girl, and I’m the lucky bastard that gets to keep her.

I rush to the living room, grabbing the paper off the top of the pile, and open it up. The headline screams at me, “Michael Evans Shoots Kidnap Suspect After Freeing Victim.”

Well, fuck!

Devon and I are having breakfast at the campus café when I see a man in a table beside us open his newspaper. I almost choke when I see Michael Evans’ face staring back at me with the headline,
“Michael Evans Shoots Kidnap Suspect After Freeing Victim.”

“Hey D, grab a paper for me, will you?” I ask as he stuffs a breakfast muffin into his mouth.

“Dude, grab it yourself!” he mumbles with mouth full of food.

“I think you’ll want to see this one,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck. Okay, okay.” He gets up and grabs a paper from the counter and opens it. I watch in slow motion as his mouth drops open in shock. He walks back to our table, paper in front his face as he reads. He bumps into a few chairs on the way, apologizing but not able to rip his eyes away from the story.

He takes his seat opposite me and drops the paper. His eyes are wide, his look full of disbelief.

“Damn,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “The old man is still as slippery as always.”

“Seems that way. Any idea what happened?” I ask. We were all too wiped last night to talk about anything. And to be honest, the intensity of what went down, of how Brax lost his shit at Gibbons, beating him within an inch of his life, and how Elle pulled him out of it, all hit us hard. When I saw Evans’ car pull in, and that he was driving, not one of his henchmen, I knew shit was about to get real.

The look on Brax’s face when he got into the car and said “get the fuck out of here” said it all. I’ve kept my distance from them this morning. They need time and space to deal with the ordeal. I just hope that now that Gibbons has been taken out, and Brimstone is being charged, this whole threat has been neutralized. All the main suspects have been dealt with, even Evans’ in his own way. Although, I’m still uneasy about that creeper in the black Honda. He’s been conspicuously absent of late, and that doesn’t sit right with me for some reason.

We passed three police cars on our way back last night, so there is no way Evans could have covered anything up in that time. But yet again, Evans is like Teflon; I’m starting to believe that nothing will ever stick to that man. The newspaper headline says it all, really. Evans stepped up for his sons, covered their asses, and admitted to killing Gibbons. But in true Evans’ style, he turned it around to make himself look good. But this is the closest he’s even come to redeeming himself for the sins of his past and present, especially the things he’d done to his own sons.

“We need to check in with the police, man. Probably make statements to explain what went down and shit. Tie up any loose ends so that we’re not pulled into this shit storm,” he says, his expression emotionless.

“Good plan, bro. I’ll get the bill, then we’ll head over to Elle’s. I wanna check in with her and see how she is,” I add. “I think we all might need a debrief, too.”

“Sweet,” he replies, folding the paper and putting it under his arm as he stands and walks towards the door. I swear to god that man looks like he’s just had the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders. And if anyone deserves it, Devon and Brax do.

Brax has remained quite calm this morning, despite the newest revelations from his past. He’s surprised me. Sylvie was understandably upset about his reaction, and his anger, but was also relieved to hear that I was safe and relatively unscathed following the kidnapping.

“Darlin’, I think you should come see this!” I hear Brax shout out to me. I hop off the bed and make my way to the lounge, finding him sitting on the couch with the morning newspaper spread open in front of him, a large photo of his father, Michael Evans, on the front.

“What happened?” I stare at the photo of Brax’s father. The resemblance is so obvious now. Those ice blue eyes and their brooding stare are unmistakable.

“Evans is being hailed a hero. This report says that he shot Gibbons in self-defense just moments before the cops arrived last night. Apparently, Gibbons was armed and had his weapon drawn,” he adds, looking up at her with a raised brow.

He continues to read the article. “Apparently, Gary Gibbons was shot twice and died instantly. After being questioned, Evans gave a press conference this morning outlining exactly how he came to save billionaire heiress Elle Halliwell, and subdue her kidnapper long enough for her to run to safety,” he explains with a frown.

“Babe, he did that? For you?” I sit down beside him, shell shocked. Just twelve hours ago, that man, the one who snatched me from the restaurant and held me captive for three hours, was alive. And now he’s dead. For what? What did he achieve by taking me? He told me he needed money, but as much as I tried he wouldn’t let me call anyone to get it for him. He was desperate, he told me as much. He was so unsure of himself, like he was second guessing his actions. He told me about his wife, how she’d left him because his gambling debts had cost them their house. How he worked with Harry Brimstone to monitor me, and how when Harry was arrested, he snapped. He told me everything in those two hours before Brax and Shay barged into the room and knocked him out cold.

“He didn’t need to die, Brax,” I say, my voice wavering.

“I know, but Evans plays by his own set of rules. I’ve never agreed with them, but I’m not gonna say that I’m sorry about this, Elle. I can’t.” He drops his head to lean it against mine. “It’s over, Elle. You’re safe now. No one can hurt you,” he says as my tears start to fall.

It’s really over. I’m safe.

Thank god for that.

We sit there, just holding each other and dealing with the information overload that was our morning. I feel Brax’s phone vibrate against my hip. He reaches down and grabs it, reading the message while I look over his shoulder.

Shay: Heading up, bro. Got news.

Brax: Me too. Shit you won’t believe, and the best news in the world.

Brax stands up and unlocks the door, opening it and letting Shay and Devon into the apartment.

“Babe, how you doing today? You’re face looks worse today,” Shay says with a grimace.

“Are you saying I look like hell, Shay?” I say with a wry smile.

“You’re gorgeous as always, just a little rough around the edges.” He flashes me that full watt grin of his, the one he knows will get him out of anything, and I can’t help but giggle.

“Something like that,” I reply, grinning back at him.

“Hey, you. Be nice to my fiancé,” Brax says jokingly to Shay, who looks stunned.

“Holy crap! Congrats, guys,” he says, pulling both Brax and I in for a group hug.

“Can’t. Breathe,” I say, my voice squeaking.

Shay pulls away, laughing. “Sorry, babe. I’m so happy for you guys. But you won’t get me wearing a monkey suit, alright?”

Devon steps forward and shakes Brax’s hand. “Awesome news, bro. Happy for you.”

Brax sits back down and pulls me into his lap. His huge smile is becoming contagious to everyone else in the room.

“You’ve seen the newspaper, then,” Devon remarks, pointing to the newspaper still open on the table.

“Yeah. Didn’t see that one coming,” Brax replies. “Surprised the fuck out of me, to be honest. I thought for sure he’d get away, or throw one of us under the bus.”

“I think it’s his way of making amends. Like you said Brax, it’s redemption,” I add, looking up at Devon.

“Redemption,” he says slowly, letting the thought sink in. “Never thought of it that way.”

“So, where to from here?” Shay butts in.

“I don’t know. Brimstone isn’t going anywhere until after his arraignment, Evans is sitting in a cell, and Gibbons is dead,” Brax says.