Reckoning (Wolfes of Manhattan 5)

Reid consumed my thoughts.

He was searching for me. I was sure of it. But would he find me? Diamond had said breadcrumbs had been left, whatever that meant.

So much I hadn’t had time to think about since the Wolfes came into my life, and ironically, now I had nothing to do but think.

A conversation I’d had with Riley slid into my mind.

“What did he do to Reid?” I asked.

Riley sighed. “I don’t fully know, and even if I did, his story isn’t my story. You’d have to ask him.”

“I can’t. I don’t even know him. Yet you’re asking me to tell my story.”

“Zee, this isn’t about us or even about you. It’s about clearing all of our names. None of us are willing to go down for his murder when we’re all innocent.”

I adored Riley. Truly. But her words had been untrue. It was about them. About all of them. Proving their innocence was about them, not about me.

So much time for my thoughts to invade me.

So much time…

I didn’t know Riley’s story, but my imagination had conjured up vivid images of Derek Wolfe doing horrid things to his only daughter. And my Reid…

Had he been abused? Hunted?

No. I doubted it. Neither he nor Rock had been. They were both strong as oxen and twice as tough on the inside. Roy was a bit of a question mark, but I doubted it also. He and Charlie seemed deliriously happy, and if he were dealing with some sort of trauma—other than his recent memory of his father’s hunting ground, which had led to my rescue—surely I’d be able to see it in his actions.

Sometimes, though, abuse and trauma made a person stronger.

Again my thoughts flashed to Reid, as they always ended up doing.

Riley hadn’t known what, if anything, Derek Wolfe had done to his youngest son. Reid had been Derek’s right-hand man, so Derek would have had to prepare him for that.

And Derek Wolfe had no problem using physical force. I knew that as well as anyone.

Had he hit Reid? Beat him? Abused him physically? Sexually?

The thoughts raced at me like a stampeding herd of buffalo. Every possible scenario flashed in my mind’s eye.

My Reid. My sweet Reid.

What had happened to him?

Then I jerked upward in bed.

The doorknob was clicking.

No. Just no. Diamond said no one would harm me.

I darted my gaze around the dark room. Where to go? Hide in the bathroom? There was no lock on the door. I stood quickly, ready to fight with all I had.

I heaved a relieved sigh when Diamond walked in carrying a tote bag.

“Shh,” she said. “Don’t talk.”

I nodded as she set the bag down and left, clicking the lock in place.

What had she brought? I hurried to the bag and lifted it. It was heavy. I had no light to turn on except for the moonlight streaming in through the etched window.

My stomach growled when I pulled out a loaf of bread wrapped in plastic. Underneath were some fruit and pudding cups in plastic. Then a jar of peanut butter and some—I had to stop myself from squealing—bars of Belgian dark chocolate. At the very bottom was a plastic knife and spoon along with my laundered clothes.

Bless you, Diamond.

Middle of the night or not, I couldn’t help breaking into the chocolate. I opened one bar and broke off a bite-sized piece. Its smooth deliciousness melted against my tongue. I’d read somewhere that chocolate was supposed to ease depression.

I wasn’t depressed so much as just chronically worried. About Reid. About myself. About pretty much everything.

The chocolate was velvety, but when the flavor dissipated, I found myself no less worried.

No less alone.

At least tomorrow I wouldn’t starve between breakfast and lunch.

Who was Diamond, anyway?

For the first time in a while, I said a prayer. For Reid. For his family. And for Diamond.

33

Reid

Dave and Mike got on a plane to Honolulu at three a.m. Coach again, and Rock had the aisle seat, damn him. I found myself pushing my feet against the floor of the plane, trying to get there faster.

Of course, I had no idea whether I’d find Zee once we got to the coordinates.

I had to believe we would, though. If I let myself think otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to go on.

“Fuckers,” Rock muttered under his breath.

After Rock and I each took a shot of Hoss’s shitty bourbon, we’d left Nieves, Hoss, and Manny, quickly calling Buck to get eyes on them twenty-four-seven, which we should have been doing this whole damned time. Not one of us had foreseen their involvement. Hell, Rock had thought the two weekend bikers were his friends.

Nothing pissed me off worse than people sliding under my radar. Derek Wolfe taught me better than that.

And now…Roy.

Did I know any of my siblings?

Rock had been sent away when I was only nine years old, and I spent most of my childhood and early adult years envying Riley for the attention our father heaped on her. I’d been wrong about both of them.