It was easier thinking of this like chess. Trying to see my opponent’s moves coming before he made them. Baiting the moves I wanted, blocking attacks before they happened.
Xander’s eyes widened. “You think that if you’d taken him the remains, he would have held the illegality of that move over you?”
“I can’t afford to hand him any more leverage.”
“Because, of course, this is all about you.” Thea’s voice was dangerously pleasant—never a good sign.
“Thea,” Rebecca said quietly. “Let it go.”
“No. This is your family, Bex. And no matter how hard you try, no matter how angry you manage to get—that’s always going to matter to you.” Thea lifted a hand to the side of Rebecca’s face. “I saw you back there with your mom.”
Rebecca looked like she wanted to get lost in Thea’s eyes, but she didn’t let herself. “I always thought there was something wrong with me,” she said, her voice breaking. “Emily was my mom’s world, and I was a shadow, and I thought it was me.”
“But now you know,” Thea said softly, “it was never you.”
Mallory’s trauma was Rebecca’s trauma—probably was Emily’s, too.
“I am done living in the shadows, Thea,” Rebecca said. She turned to me. “Bring on the light. Tell the world the truth. Do it.”
That wasn’t my plan—not exactly. There was one move that would let me protect the people who needed protecting. One sequence, if I could execute it.
If Blake didn’t see it coming.
Reporting the body was just step one. Step two was controlling the narrative.
“Avery.” Landon answered my call on the third ring. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but our working relationship came to an end quite some time ago.”
I’d had other publicists and media consultants since, but for what I was planning, I needed the best. “I need to talk to you about a dead body and the story of the century.”
Silence—enough of it that I wondered if she’d hung up on me. Then Landon offered up two words, her British accent crisp. “I’m listening.”
I threw Tobias Hawthorne under the bus. Thoroughly and without mercy. Dead men didn’t get to be picky about their reputations, and that went double for dead men who’d used me the way he had.
Tobias Hawthorne had killed a man forty years ago—and covered it up. That was the story I was telling, and it was one hell of a story.
“Where are you going?” Jameson called after me once I’d hung up with Landon.
“The vault,” I replied. “There’s something I need before I go to confront Vincent Blake.”
Jameson ran to catch up with me. He made it past me, then turned back just as I took a step that put his body far too close to mine.
“And what do you need out of the vault?” Jameson asked.
“If I tell you,” I said, “are you going to try to lock me up again?”
Jameson lifted a hand to the side of my neck. “Is it risky?”
I didn’t look away. “Extremely.”
“Good.” His green eyes intense, he let his thumb trace the edge of my jaw. “To best Blake, it will have to be.”
Some words were just words, and others were like fire. I felt it catching inside of me, spreading, as searing as any kiss. We’re back.
“And once you’ve bested him,” Jameson continued, “because you will…” There was no feeling in the world like being seen by Jameson Hawthorne. “I’m going to need an anagram for the word everything.”
CHAPTER 76
After the vault, I made it as far as the foyer before chaos descended on me in the form of one very pissed-off Alisa Ortega. “What have you done?”
“Welcome back,” Oren told her dryly.
“What I had to do,” I answered.
Alisa took what was probably supposed to be a calming breath. “You didn’t wait for me to get here because you knew I’d tell you that calling the police was a bad idea.”
“You would have told me that calling the police on Blake was a bad idea,” I countered. “So I didn’t call them on Blake.”
“We have local PD at the gate,” Oren informed me. “Given the circumstances, my men can’t refuse them entrance. I suspect the DPS Special Agents aren’t long behind.”
Alisa kneaded her temples. “I can fix this.”
“It’s not yours to fix,” I told her.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“No,” I replied, staring her down. “You have no idea what I’m doing. There’s a difference.” I didn’t have the time or inclination to explain everything to her. Landon had promised me a two-hour head start, but that was it. Any delay past that and we might lose our opportunity to control the narrative.
If I waited too long, Vincent Blake would have too much time to regroup.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I told Alisa. “You’ve done a lot for me since the will was read. I know that. But the truth is that Tobias Hawthorne’s fortune will be in my hands very soon.” I didn’t like playing it this way, but I didn’t have a choice. “The only question you have to ask yourself is whether you still want to have a job when that happens.”
Even I wasn’t sure if I was bluffing. There was no way I could do this on my own, and even though I’d doubted her, I trusted Alisa more than I would trust anyone else I could hire next. On the other hand, she was in the habit of treating me like a kid—the same wide-eyed, overwhelmed, never-had-two-nickels-to-rub-together kid I’d been when I’d gotten here.
To take on Vincent Blake, I had to grow up.
“You’d drown without me,” Alisa told me. “And take an empire down with you.”
“So don’t make me do this without you,” I responded.
Fixing her gaze on me with almost frightening precision, Alisa gave a slight nod of her head. Oren cleared his throat.
I turned to face him. “Is this the part where you start talking about duct tape?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Is this the part where you threaten my job?”
On the day that Tobias Hawthorne’s will had been read, I’d tried to tell Oren I didn’t need security. He’d calmly replied that I would need security for the rest of my life. It had never been a question of whether he would protect me.
“This isn’t just a job to you,” I told Oren, because I felt like I owed him that much. “It never has been.”
He’d told me months ago that he owed Tobias Hawthorne his life. The old man had given Oren a purpose, dragged him out of a very dark place. His last request to my head of security had been that Oren protect me.
“I thought he’d done something noble,” Oren said quietly, “asking me to take care of you.”
Oren was my constant shadow. He’d heard Tobias Hawthorne’s message. He knew what my purpose was—and that had to have shed new light on his.
“Your boss asked you to run my security. Taking care of me…” My voice hitched. “That was all you.”
Oren gave me the briefest of smiles, then he allowed himself to fall back into bodyguard mode. “What’s the plan, boss?”