A Real Bad Boy(57)

"What do you want me to do?" I asked. My first priority was to take  orders, but I still had my own instinct of self-preservation. I reached  for my gun but Greyson held his hand up, motioning for me to stand down.

"We talk, Janson. Right now. We talk," he said as he looked me in the  eyes. He was so very serious. In the past year, he'd turned into a  totally different person. His anger, his cynical nature, it was all  gone. Transformed through love, as corny as it sounded to me.

I was beginning to understand exactly what that meant.

Greyson got out of the car and raised his hands over his head, looking  at the men. "We're here on parley, boys. Not to fuck anyone over. As you  can see, we are laying down our weapons. We just want to talk." He  motioned to me with his eyes to get out of the car. I knew he wanted me  to do the same. So, I stood and laid down my weapons.

All but my knife.

No one would even notice it hidden there, in a false pocket in my pants. I could feel it, but no one else would.

I was confident of it. As long as I felt like I could protect us, I knew that it would be all right. Or I would go down trying.

"What do you want?" the beefy guard on the right said to Greyson. He'd certainly gotten his attention.

Not to mention the fact that no one wanted a shootout in a sleepy suburb outside of Baltimore.

"I want to talk to your boss and his brother. We have some news. Some  good news." Greyson didn't back down. He didn't turn and run. He never  would. That man was a born leader and it was my job to be his muscle.  Always at his side.

Even now. Especially now.

"Let them in," a voice bellowed from the inside of the home. It was a  beautiful McMansion, the kind I'd expect to see upper-level management  in, not a damn mob boss. But then again, the same could probably be said  for Greyson's father …

None of them looked like what they were. They were older, wrinkled,  overweight. They didn't have the muscle and handsome looks of their  youth.

I wondered if we would turn into that as we grew older.

I followed Greyson as we stood and walked towards the inside.                       
       
           



       

"Stop," Beefy said as soon as we entered. We stood in our tracks and  looked around. The place was nice but it wasn't anything special. That  wasn't what I was looking at, though. I was looking at the exits, the  number of men stationed. I was getting a feel for the layout in the  event we needed to get the fuck out of there.

"You need to be frisked." He put his hands over Greyson and then turned to me.

A little part of me was nervous, just like it was every time someone did this, but it was foolproof.

He did a quick frisk and then it was over. "They're clean."

I let out a sigh of relief I didn't know I held.

"You may come in." Dennis stood at the edge of what looked to be a study and invited us in. "What is it you'd like to discuss?"

"The birth of your niece's daughter," Greyson said. He stood tall.

"Now, that is a good thing. Congratulations." Dennis smiled. "Scotch?"

"Thank you." Greyson nodded.

"So, you have a daughter. And I have a new niece. What do you want from me?" he asked. "Last I checked, we were at war."

"I want an end to it. I want an end to it all."

"A sit down? With your old man?"

"For the sake of my child," Greyson said as he bent forward towards Dennis. He was appealing to his sense of legacy.

I could see Dennis's eye sparkle with greed. He was hoping for something  like this. "I think something can be arranged. When do you want this  little tete-a-tete to happen?"

"Soon."

But first, we had to approach his father with the idea.





Kathryn



I'd been waiting for this day since Joanna got out of the hospital. The  day she brought Jessica to the house for everyone to see. I hadn't been  alone in the house. Not for one moment. It was gigs and meetings and  sneaking around to see Janson. And every spare moment, one of my sisters  or my mother or even my father was there.

And their eyes were always on me.

But when there was a baby in the house, no one would notice me. I had  just long enough to get into my father's study, to find any indication  of evidence. Any receipt and any note of a location could help me.

"Kathryn, could you go and get us some coffee?" my mother asked as she  held that little baby in her arms. "I'm sure that Joanna could use a  little pick me up."

"Oh, I actually can't have caffeine while breastfeeding," she said. "But  I would love the opportunity to get up and help in the kitchen."

That smile sparkled at me, and I could tell she was tired. I wondered just how much sleep she'd actually been getting.

I just needed some time. Just a little bit. Maybe while I was supposed to be in the kitchen.

"Sure!" I said, smiling. "I could definitely use some company."

What I needed was a cover. As soon as we got into the kitchen I grinned at her. "How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I don't know, honestly. I haven't slept for days. All I know is that my  face is numb from lack of sleep, and I feel like my eyes are dragging  on the damn floor," Joanna admitted. "I love her, though. I love them  both."

I chuckled. "I hear that it gets better, hon. But you know that if you  need anyone to come and help at any time, I will be right there."

"Do you mean it?" she asked. "Because I really will call you up asking that very thing. I'm so lonely."

"Of course. I don't know a whole lot about babies, but I would love to learn alongside you. It has to be hard."

"It is. My uncle sent a card, but no one from my family has so much as  come by. I've got to be honest, having your mom take her, if just for a  few moments, was exactly the break I needed."

I could tell, though, that she was struggling to stay in the room. So I took my chance.

"I've got to run to the restroom, do you think you could handle things for a few moments?" I asked.

"Sure, it's just making coffee."

I grinned and pushed my way through the second kitchen door, the one  that went down the hallway to the bathroom and my father's study.

No one would even notice if I slipped in there, so I ducked to the right and opened the door. I was in.

His study was always perfectly organized. A beautiful mishmash of books,  documents, and personal art. He knew exactly where everything went, and  he was completely aware of its place.

So I knew that I would have to take note of every little detail before I went rooting.

I pulled out my phone and took a picture of his desk. I wanted to make sure I got it right.

Then I started digging.

I looked through his top drawers first because they seemed the most  logical place to find a key or some piece of scrap. Nothing. Then I  worked through his bottom draws. Nothing was locked, so it was unlikely  he would keep anything important in there, but anything, no matter how  small, might just help.                       
       
           



       

I just needed to keep digging.

A creaking noise above me startled me. Someone was upstairs. I let out a breath. Probably one of my sisters.

Finally, I saw something in the bottom right of his deep drawer. It  looked like a damn pull. Was it a secret compartment? I pulled on the  little trigger and a small box popped out of the side of the desk. Damn.

A booklet sat in there. One filled with names and dates. I didn't know what it meant, but I knew it was important.

I took picture after picture of the contents then stuck it back in. That  had to be something. I closed it just as I heard a creak outside the  door. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"What are you doing?" my father asked as I made sure everything was appropriately placed.

"I'm looking for your coffee mug. The one with the globe on it. I know  you love it, and I thought you might like it." It was a quick lie, a  great one, really.

"Oh, I took it to work, hon. You don't need to worry about that. But  thank you for thinking of me." He never betrayed a damn emotion, and I  wondered if he had any at all as he stared me down. That man was a  freaking shield of stoicism.

I walked back with him towards the living room. I wasn't sure if I got  anything worth while, but at least I tried, and it was something.  Hopefully, it would be enough.

Hopefully, it would be something.





Chapter Sixteen



Janson



"I have something," Kat said on the other line.

"On?" I asked.

"I think you know." She was trying to be sneaky, but what she was talking about was obvious.

She meant on her father, but I told her never to use real names or  anything like that on the phone. We didn't know who was listening. Hell,  we had to assume that any form of technology was being watched somehow  by someone.