Boredom and crisis have been the only two constants in my life.
Now? I’m done with all that.
Now, I can’t fathom ever being bored of Grace Sellers.
Now, it’s time to make a stand.
That thought hangs heavy in my mind as I bring up my email and fire off a message to Faulk. He couldn’t find an obvious link between Nelson and Grendal himself. Maybe now, with the railyard connection and a better idea of their logistics, we’ll have enough meat to build a solid plan.
Faulk can bring in the Feds, and I’ve already got the police at my back with Drake and Sheriff Wallace.
Grady, he’s a natural brawler, extra muscle, and did time in the service like the rest of us.
I’m still rolling it around in my head when I sense someone behind me. Smirking, I turn, armed with another quip about putting a goddamn bell on his neck one of these days.
Only, the look on Tobin’s face stops me in my tracks.
“What?” I snap. “What’s wrong?”
“Forgive me. I couldn’t help but notice how hard you’ve been working lately, desperately searching for answers, a way to take down this gang responsible for so much misery.” He steps into my office, adjusting the perfectly starched cuffs of his shirt, his eyes flashing as he closes the door. “Ridge…perhaps the answer was always right in front of you.”
“What’re you getting at?” I wonder, though deep down, I already think I know.
He can’t mean…
“Why not give Clay Grendal the same treatment Linus Hammond enjoyed?”
Fuck, there it is.
His eyes are like green torches, burning me alive, the very same eyes that begged me not to go that night and deliver that monster to death’s door.
“You’re serious?” I snort, shaking my head. “Am I dreaming? Hearing this shit…from you of all people?”
“It was a different time,” he snaps. “You know it’s in my nature to always prefer the lawful option. Order over chaos. However, I never told you, after it was said and done with that wretched man…you were right, Ridge. I was wrong. There wasn’t another way. No court in the world would convict him. I was a fool to try and stop you from the only justice anyone could’ve given Judy Barnet.”
I bolt up, step across the room, lay my hands on his shoulders.
It’s a hell of a thing to see a man as mild mannered as Tobin admit something like this.
“You’re sure? Tobin, I…”
I can’t fucking speak.
He nods firmly. “If you’d like, I believe I can track down more of the noxious agent you used in Hammond’s drink. I assume that’s where you placed it, anyway, knowing the affinity he had for his wines…”
“Yeah,” I growl, pinching my teeth. “How could I forget?”
I hate remembering a fucking thing about that night, but it all comes flying back.
It wasn’t long after I chewed him out and roughed him up at the charity fundraiser. I found him at this upscale bar, muscled my way in, and got him alone.
I played the perfect gentleman. Apologized for being so rash, so upset about my mother’s death at that ski lodge…for ever accusing him of what he did.
He was Mr. Fucking Congeniality.
Hammond pushed me to share a bottle of nine-thousand-dollar top-shelf Bordeaux. I even let the pig toast to Judy Barnet. We clinked glasses.
The second his back was turned, by the third glass, I slipped it into his drink.
The dose was slow-acting, enough meant to kill.
Somehow, I kept it together for hours, long after we’d parted ways and he’d gone home for the night.
I heard it through Bebe the next day, how he’d been hospitalized and barely had any function in his central nervous system left to call for help.
The dosage was off.
He didn’t die. Not that night. But the oxygen was cut off to his brain just long enough to leave him paralyzed.
I didn’t have the balls to kill a vampire in broad daylight, but I damn sure wounded him, fatally, and left him toothless to prey on more women until his violent end at the barrel of a gun and another angry man he’d destroyed.
“Do it,” I tell Tobin finally. “If you can get the shit without raising any red flags…it’s an option. Maybe our best option.”
He nods again, pivots out of my grasp, and turns toward the door.
“Tobin, wait,” I say, standing my ground until he turns. “I need you to know I’m sleeping with Grace.”
He barely raises his brows. “As ever, your romantic escapades are none of my professional or personal business. The news is no surprise, considering the racket you two make in your nightly passions. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
“I’m not trying to kiss and tell. My point is, it’s your business when I think I…fuck.” I have to stop and collect myself, rubbing my eyes. “I think, after all this is over, I want Grace to join us here. I want to help get her on her feet, see if she wants to stay in Dallas, or find a stable footing to go off to wherever else she chooses.”