“Yes.” He didn’t bother to explain himself. The other man wouldn’t understand. “I have work I need to do here.”
“What work?” This from Honor.
“Fitzgerald left one hell of a power vacuum and someone’s got to fill it.” He looked at them each in turn. “That someone’s is going to be me.”
There was a silence.
Eva gaze was full of silver sparks. “If you’re going to take over that pile of shit, then perhaps we’ll just shoot you right now and save ourselves a whole lot of bother.”
“I don’t want his fucking empire.” Elijah held her gaze. “I want to take it down. Hell, I started the process of dismantling it years ago. It just needs a couple more years before it goes down completely.”
“Why not let the police do it?” Katya asked.
“Because half the fucking police were in Fitzgerald’s pocket. They want to keep it going for their own ends, make no mistake. No, it’s got to be done from the inside, which means it’s got to be me.”
Another silence.
But they all agreed, he could see it in their eyes.
“What about Jericho then?” Eva said. “We’re just going to let him go? Run away like a bunch of scared kids?”
“I didn’t say we were going to let him go, angel.” Rutherford unfolded his arms, reaching down to put a hand on her knee. “What I meant was that we should lay low while we work on a plan to take him down.”
Something twisted in Elijah’s chest, the memory of Violet’s tearstained face.
He’s my brother.
“Fuck, yes,” Woolf said roughly. “We can’t let him get away with this shit.”
Once, Elijah would have agreed. But not now. He wanted no part of it, not when any move against Jericho was a move against Violet.
He turned to the door without a word. He had to get out of here, he had stuff to do.
“Elijah.” Woolf’s voice.
He stopped, didn’t turn around.
“Are you with us?”
It was a gesture, he understood. An olive branch of sorts. An invitation to be part of the plan, to join with them at least for a little while.
But while he appreciated the sentiment, he wasn’t going to. He’d been on his own path for almost a decade and it was better that he walked it alone. That’s how he worked best after all.
“No,” he said flatly. “I left Jericho alive for Violet. If you want to take him down, that’s your business.” He moved to the door and pulled it open.
“And Fitzgerald’s empire?” Rutherford this time. “You might need help.”
“I won’t.”
He stepped through the door and pulled it shut after him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Violet had no money and no phone, so she walked, trying to keep her head down in case any of her brother’s minions were out and about.
She’d timed her escape from the car just about perfectly, the lights changing to green as she’d gotten out which had meant the driver had been unable to chase her without abandoning his car in the middle of the street and causing a big traffic jam.
She’d run hard and fast after that, sticking to crowded places with lots of people at first, then dodging down alleyways. She’d gotten lost a couple of times, riding the subway a lot had meant she’d never really gotten a clear picture of how the streets of Manhattan connected in her head.
But even lost, she’d pressed on. Walking and walking and trusting that eventually she’d figure out where she was.
It was strange to realize that she was finally free. That for the first time in a week or so, she wasn’t anyone’s captive. Shit, she could go anywhere: back to her own apartment or to Honor’s. It would have been the intelligent thing to do, after all. Go get a change of clothes, some money, a phone.
Yet somehow all of those things seemed unimportant.
There was only one thing that mattered and that was finding Elijah. Making sure he was okay. Letting him know that she was there for him. Whatever happened after that felt kind of insignificant.
It shouldn’t have taken her that long to get from Alphabet City to the West Village, but what with her getting lost and trying to keep a low profile, it felt like a long time before she finally started to recognize some of the streets.
By then the sun had started to go down as the afternoon shambled on into evening. It had gotten cold too, clouds rolling in and the temperature plunging. It would probably snow again, which was just great timing considering all she wore was a sweater and jeans.
The long shadows of evening had well and truly closed in by the time she eventually approached the hulking brick edifice of Elijah’s apartment building. She went up the stairs, shivering as the wind began to pick up, realizing as she came to the securely locked door that she had no idea how to get in.