The Empire Page 8

  “I’m not done asking questions,” the detective states.

  “You don’t have the right to ask questions about a heart attack from natural causes.” I pull Harper around the group and she and Savage step into the elevator with me.

  The detective steps in front of the car. “I don’t remember anyone saying the heart attack was from natural causes.”

  “Was it or wasn’t it?” I ask.

  “To be determined,” he says. “But I’m not going anywhere until it is.”

  “Find that man who was in his room,” Harper states. “Find him and you’ll be the hero we need.”

  He studies Harper for several long beats and then looks at me. “I’m waiting on a copy of his will. I’m thinking it’s going to be an interesting read.” He releases the doors and steps away.

  The will is certainly not in my favor. Should Isaac die, I’d inherit, that is, if there isn’t another living sibling, and my gut says there was but no longer is.

  Based on present circumstances, I’d venture to say that Isaac would have gotten rid of anyone who could take his inheritance, but I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about Harper. I need to see the wording in the will on her trust fund. As it stands, it might well look as if she’s the one who directly benefits from my father’s death, outside of Isaac.

  “Fucktard,” Savage growls as we begin to move.

  None of us look at each other or speak as we ride the short few floors to the ICU level, all of us aware of the cameras recording us, but there’s more. There’s silence riddled with a mix of anger and consternation, none of which are mine. There is worry on my end, worry for her, right along with numbers. Lots of fucking numbers.

  The elevator dings and Savage breaks the silence. “Our man Jesse is already at the door. Smith is with Grayson.”

  I give him a barely perceivable nod and we exit the car to meet Jesse, a tall man with dark, curly hair. The greeting is short and we move past the elevators, toward the waiting area. We’ve just passed a hallway when Harper tugs my hand and steps in front of me. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I told them about the water.”

  I eye Savage over her shoulder and he gets the message. He walks away.

  My hands come down on her shoulders and I walk her backward into the vacant hallway we were about to pass and press her to the wall. “I’m not upset.”

  “I betrayed your trust.”

  “I never told you that was something to keep quiet.”

  “You shouldn’t have to,” she says. “He’s just—this is no excuse—but where my head was—he was so glib, showing up with that detective, acting like he was delivering the evil brother to him for prosecution. It infuriated me. I just—I needed that detective to know that you’re the good one, not the bad one.”

  Protecting me. She’s protecting me. Fuck. Over and over, she proves she is nothing like anyone that I’ve ever known, except my mother. She’s like my mother in that she bravely and boldly protects those she loves. Even staying with the Kingstons was about protecting both her mother and her father’s legacy. The way I’m going to protect her, and the way that damn will has me fearing I will have to protect her. Isaac is too cocky. He knows something we don’t. He’s here to seal the deal and we don’t even know what the fuck he’s trying to do besides bury everyone but himself.

  “Eric,” Harper whispers desperately.

  “Baby, yes. I want you to keep my secrets, but I get it. You were protecting me and you're amazing for that and so many more reasons. And I’m going to protect you and your mother. You have my word.”

  It’s a promise I intend to keep which is exactly why I ease her off the wall, kiss her thoroughly and set us in motion again. No place better to confront my brother than by the bedside of our father, who he tried to kill.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Eric

  Harper and I approach the ICU nurse’s station to be greeted by a new face, a woman I estimate to be around thirty, wearing scrubs, her brunette hair pulled to her nape. “Can I help you?” she asks.

  “Kingston,” I say. “How is he?”

  “And you are?” she asks, her lips pursing prudishly.

  “His son,” Harper states as if she knows I can’t stomach those necessary words. God, I fucking love this woman.

  The nurse frowns. “I just met his son and—”

  “I’m the other one,” I say. “How is he?”

  “You don’t look like your brother.”

  “Thank the fuck for that,” I murmur.

  “They’re half brothers,” Harper quickly chimes in. “Call someone if you need to. We need an update.”

  I arch a brow at the nurse and she hesitates but gives us the information. “He’s improved this morning. We moved him to a private suite one floor up.”

  In a suite, where he will be easier to get to for me and everyone else, I think.

  “Define improved?”

  “We took him off life support.”

  “Is he speaking?”

  “No, I’m sorry. He hasn’t regained consciousness.”

  She offers us instructions and we rejoin Savage in the lobby. “A little update,” Savage offers. “We caught the FBI consultant asshole on film. We followed the street cameras and know where he got into a cab. We’re working to track him that way.”

  “What about the woman?” Harper asks.

  “She disappeared. We never caught her on camera. I assume she used a wig and change of clothes to pull that off, which makes me surprised the guy didn’t do the same.”

  “That’s odd,” Harper says. “Why wouldn’t he?”

  I spare us all that debate, right here and now. “Contemplate it upstairs in my father’s suite.”

  “He’s not there yet,” Savage says. “I just got word that they’re moving him in fifteen minutes. Whoever told you he was gone now, was confused.”

  My brows dip. “Or they wanted to talk to me alone, in my father’s suite.” I kiss Harper. “Stay with Savage. I’ll be right back.”

  “Stay with Jesse,” Savage rebuts and waves Jesse in our direction. He eyes me. “I’m going with you.”

  “Stay with Harper,” I say. “This could be a ploy to get me apart from her. I want her safe.”

  “And what about you?” Harper asks. “Who protects you?”

  “Me,” I say, eyeing Savage. “I could kick his ass, and then some,” I promise.

  He snorts. “Let’s spar, man. Name the day and place.”

  “Eric,” Harper pleads. “Just let him go with you.”

  “No. He stays with you.” I kiss her again. “I’ll have Savage bring you up with my father.”

  I don’t give her time to agree. I cut away from her and make my way to the nearest stairwell. Once I’m inside, I start the walk up, only to reach the door one level higher as Isaac does the same coming from the other direction. I’d assume it to be a set-up if he didn’t look so damn uncomfortable, his expression sour. He knew I was headed to the room, compliments of the nurse he sweet-talked, I’m betting. He didn’t know I was taking the stairs. “What the fuck are you even doing here?” he demands, predictably attacking when he feels trapped.

  “More like what the fuck was our father doing here to see me in the first place, Isaac? What did he want?”

  “He thought you were going to come at us because of Harper’s attack. He thought he could convince you otherwise. Obviously, he was wrong or he wouldn’t be in that bed right now.”

  I take a step toward him and to his credit, he doesn’t back up. “We both know I didn’t do that to him.” I take another step. He sways slightly. He wants to bolt. “We both know you hired a hitman to kill him.”

  “You bastard.” He swings at me.

  I catch his wrist and shove him against the wall. “Do you really want to fight me, brother?” I ask. “Because I have a lot of turning the other cheek to make up for.”

  He laughs. “Hit me. Your violence will speak worlds to the police.”

  “Are y
ou going to have them check your balls after I bust them? Because I’d like to stay and watch.”

  The color drains from his face. “I didn’t hire a fucking hitman.”

  “You’re in trouble,” I say. “We both know it. That trouble is now on my doorstep and I want it off.”

  “I told you to leave. I told you to get the fuck away.”

  “And yet Gigi not only wanted my help, she took off. She’s in hiding instead of here, by her son’s bed. What is she afraid of, Isaac? You or the mob, who I know you’ve fucked around with and pissed off.”

  “My business is not your business.”

  “You made it my business by going after Harper.”

  “I didn’t go after Harper.”

  “How much do you owe them?”

  He spits in my face. I don’t so much as flinch. “Let’s be clear, Isaac. I don’t have to bust your balls. The mob will bite them off and if you were counting on dad dying and leaving you the money, you have a problem. He’s going to live and if you kill him now, you’ll get attention you don’t want and neither does the mob. They might just kill you to cut off the bleeding.” I release him. “You need me. Get smart and ask for help before you take everyone down with you.” I turn to the door and open it, leaving him in the stairwell. And yes, I wipe his fucking spit off my face.

  A few minutes and queries later, I’m standing in a suite with an empty bed and a sitting area. I enter the room expecting something, though I don’t know what. I walk into the bathroom and attached to the mirror is an envelope that reads “Eric Mitchell” and it’s not coded. This is not the same kind of message as before. I grab the envelope and right when I would open it, a tingling sensation slides up and down my spine. I slide the envelope into my pocket and exit the bathroom, my eyes searching the room. It’s empty, but someone was here.

  I walk to the door and look left and right down the hallway, but I find no one. It’s a quiet floor and a quiet moment. I step back into the room and pull out the piece of paper from the envelope that reads:

  Eric–

  You can’t just let Isaac do what he has to do, can you? You’re pushing me. If you keep pushing, I’m going to make you king and then you’ll owe me. You can pay me my fucking money or Harper can pay me. Yes, I do believe she’d pay me to protect you. I won’t sign this letter. You’re too fucking smart to need that kind of direction. Or so I hear. Time to prove it. Your move, savant. And that move is to look away, but you won’t look away because you’re a SEAL and all that hero shit. I’ll have to make the move for you. You’ll have to be king now.

  I suck in a breath and in that moment, Harper and Savage walk in. “Find my father, Savage. Stay with him and keep Harper with you. I’m going after Isaac.”

  Harper grabs my arm. “What’s happening?”

  “Baby, I need you to trust me and stay with Savage. Promise.”

  “Yes, but—”

  I kiss her. “Later. Everything later.”

  I hand Savage the letter and take off out of the door. A letter that wasn’t from Gigi. It was from the mob and the only way I become king of the Kingston Empire is if everyone but me is dead.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Eric

  The past…

  Christmas hell.

  That’s what this is. I sit across from Isaac at a chess board while my father stands above us, watching us play. I plan to do what I always do. Let Isaac fucking win. He needs the ego stroking. I do not. I just want the fucking game over with. He makes a move. I make a move. He makes a stupid move and that forces me to act like an idiot and ignore it. He makes another move. Another stupid move and actually thinks it’s smart.

  “Your move, savant.”

  I can almost feel our father pushing me to push back, to take his pride, to cripple him. I almost feel sorry for Isaac for the way the bastard uses me to taunt him. In that moment, I hate my father more than Isaac. I make a stupid move and endure Isaac’s gloating as he takes my king.

  As if he’s the king. As if he’s telling me I will never be king.

  ***

  Three months later…

  A new kind of hell.

  That’s what being pitted against my brother in a mock trial is for me. I can’t win because I can’t lose and that will lead to complications outside this auditorium. I sit behind the defense table, my mock client accused of a laundry list of white collar crimes. I listen as Isaac leaves me a hole to bury his case. And I am going to bury his case. This isn’t about family. This is about my career.

  He walks back to his table but slides by mine first, smirking as he loudly jabs me with his favorite taunt of, “Your move, savant.”

  He walks away and sits down. I stand up and proceed to steal his false sense of security. I destroy his case, and him, in all of three minutes.

  ***

  Present…

  I’m out of the hospital room door and manage two steps before I stop dead. Not only is my father being rolled in my direction, I have a sudden realization that I shouldn’t have missed in the first place. The wording of that note comes back to me “Your move, savant.” That fucker. Harper’s right. I’m operating on emotion because I just came about ten seconds from being played. The mob didn’t write that note.

  I back up several steps and wait as my father is rolled past me in a bed, surrounded by a medical crew. Harper and Savage are ordered into the hallway. Harper rushes up to me and I pull her close.

  “What just happened?” she asks.

  Just thinking about that note and the threat against Harper, about how capable of bad deeds my brother is, has me tangling fingers in her hair and kissing her, a deep, drink-her-in-and-fucking-never-lose-her kiss. “Isaac happened,” I say, looking up at Savage as he appears over her shoulder.

  “Isaac wrote that note. His way of trying to force me to protect him.” But what doesn’t make sense to me is the fact that it also forces me to protect my father. In fact, it protects my father over Isaac.

  “Are you sure about that?” Savage asks. “It’s typed, not handwritten.”

  “What note?” Harper asks, and I take it from Savage and hand it to her. “This note.”

  Harper looks down and reads it, her pale skin turning paler as she looks up at me. “How are you sure it’s him?”

  “Because he’s stupid enough to use the words ‘your move, savant’ which I know well from him, but knowing this is him doesn’t change the reality of this note.” I turn her in my arms and we both face Savage. “Isaac has made his point. If he doesn’t survive, I inherit and that means more than money. I inherit his problems which means I have to fucking fix them for him. Then I’ll deal with him once and for all.”

  Harper turns to face me. “How?”

  “He threatened you twice, baby. He’s going to pay.”

  “How?” she repeats.

  “I might just feed him to the fucking mob and let them handle him.”

  Isaac appears beside us and I release Harper, taking the note from her. “Go check on my father, baby.”

  She nods but her fingers brush my cheek, lingering a moment before she turns away. I motion to Savage and he follows her, though not before I see how much he wants to hear the exchange about to take place.

  “Your move, savant,” I say, repeating his now infamous jab. “I am a savant, Isaac, but it doesn’t take that skill to figure this out. Did you really think I wouldn’t know you left the note?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You left the note. You’re in trouble with the mob. I already knew that, but you’re on your own. The only way that note would motivate me is if there wasn’t a layer of protection. But dad is alive. There’s two of you. One or both of you can handle this on your own.”

  “You don’t know who we’re dealing with,” he hisses, closing the space between us. “They’ll come for you. They already told me to go to you.”

  “I know who you’re dealing with. I do my homework. You fucked with the mob.
Now they’re going to fuck you up. Not my problem, but if you hurt Harper, I will personally punish you, make you suffer and then kill you. Now, I’m going to leave this godforsaken hospital, and spend time with my woman.” I start to walk away from him, but I hesitate. “If you kill dad, you might inherit, but then you have to deal with the mob by yourself. And if you think the mob will just take what you owe them and forgive and forget, you’re wrong. You need dad to deal with this.” I walk around him.

  “He thought we needed you. I didn’t do that to him. I didn’t hurt him. They did.”

  I pause and consider that possibility. Maybe they did. Maybe they didn’t. This scenario works for Isaac. He’s still trying to get me to protect him.

  I take a step and this time I don’t stop. I walk to the room, catch Harper’s hand, and set her in motion toward the elevator, with Savage quickly joining us. “What happened?” Harper asks. “What are we doing?”

  “We’re going shopping,” I say. “Then we’re going to dinner. And then we’re going to fuck all night.” I glance at Savage. “You’re not invited.”

  He laughs but he isn’t laughing when we arrive at the elevator and I stop him from entering. “I meant it. You’re not invited. We need some time away from this. You need some time to find the guy from the hospital.” Harper steps into the elevator and then I block the doors from closing.

  “You don’t want to talk about what just happened and your plans?” he asks.

  “Not until I do some thinking. Alone. With Harper. You go get the people with the answers that make sure I act on facts.”

  He narrows his eyes on me. “Right. Find the guy who claimed to be an FBI consultant. Beat him. Make him talk. It’s a good mission. I accept.”

  I nod, then step into the car and join Harper. He gives Harper a nod. “Take care of him. If you can’t, call me.”

  Harper laces her arm with mine. “He’s in good hands.”

  The hands, and arms, of an angel. I pull her close, but as I think about her, this woman I want to go get lost in right now, I think about the attack on her life. I think about why Isaac came here and that note. I’m missing something and that’s not acceptable. Not when the price to pay is too high. It’s losing Harper.