“Did you come to finish the job?” Kilo asked slowly.
“No. I’m here to give you a verbal warning.”
An evil laugh fell from Kilo’s lips. “You’re wasting your breath.”
Grant snarled as he leaned over Kilo’s battered body. “If you ever come near Morgan or her family’s property again, I’ll send you back to Memphis in a body bag. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” he said, smirking. “As ice.”
Grant turned to walk away and had every intention of doing just that until Kilo called after him. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance. Next time, I won’t tell the cops a large tale. I’ll let them put you behind bars and leave you there. That way, I won’t have you in my way the next time I come for Morgan.”
“There’d better not be a next time, Kilo.”
He coughed and then winced, perhaps choking on his threats as much as the pain from several broken ribs. “Like I said, you should’ve killed me while you had a chance.”
Grant took long strides across the room, plenty of time to contemplate a different action, another option. He yanked the thin pillow from under Kilo’s head and held it in both hands, lowering the soft cushion as Kilo’s eyes widened. “You don’t have it in you to be like me.”
Grant thought of his brother then. He thought of the other brothers out there, the men and women suffering as they watched their siblings and friends die a slow death, a demise that no one could stop once their loved one started their decline into the world of drugs. He glared at Kilo and finally made his damning choice. “You’re right. I don’t have it in me to be like you.”
Tossing the pillow aside, he called back over his shoulder as he walked out of the room, “But I’ll be worse than you if you come near Morgan again. I’ll pump enough rounds in you that you’ll be unrecognizable. Then, I’ll leave you for the vultures, trusting they’ll tear you apart like the court system failed to do.”
Chapter Twelve
Grant slipped inside Morgan’s bedroom later that evening with one goal. He planned to make love to Morgan, hold her until she remembered why she once loved him.
As much as he wanted to relive the history he and Morgan had shared, he refused. So much of their past included Scott—picnics, weekend trips to the mountains, and holiday dinners. In many ways, Grant held on to the past through Morgan, but maybe it was time to let go and look toward tomorrow for new promises and better solutions for old problems. Otherwise, the relationship he wanted rekindled with Morgan would never survive.
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching Blake and Morgan as they slept. Her small nude frame was nestled against Blake’s much larger one. If the way her arms were clasped around his neck offered any indication, she held on for dear life.
After a full day at the hospital awaiting an opportunity to leave Kilo with a stern warning, Grant was exhausted. He’d had a lot of time to think. Regrets made a man weak, and until he overcame the guilt he’d been carrying for his brother’s death, Grant wasn’t sure he’d ever be the same.
Lately, he’d thought about Scott a lot. He’d rarely permitted himself to revisit the past and his kid brother’s final days. The memories were too painful. The guilt often brought on more heartache than he could handle.
Grant tried to help Scott, but he didn’t take the time to do everything he could. It wasn’t easy managing a drug addict or helping a junkie who didn’t think he had a problem. Eventually, Grant lost hope.
He gave up too soon.
Morgan wouldn’t slip away without a fight. They would face numerous battles ahead, but eventually she would see things his way. She’d remember the vibrant life she used to have before drugs. He’d make sure of it.
Grant tilted his head and watched her eyelashes flutter. Her body jerked and beads of sweat peppered her brow. She must’ve been trapped in another endless nightmare. Instead of waking her, he waited and watched.
Morgan needed to face her fears in order to overcome them. If they enabled her, if her recovery proved too easy, she’d return to the streets and search for her drugs again. After she willingly agreed to submit to him and Blake, Grant wouldn’t give her the opportunity to return to her old way of life.
He loved her too much. Morgan deserved the sensational life she still had the potential to lead, and he planned to make her accountable. Together, he and Blake would watch her every move.
Kicking off his boots, Grant unbuttoned his shirt, leaving the front open. He unhooked the top button on his jeans and thought about undressing altogether. Then again, he should probably wait until he had the opportunity to gauge Morgan’s emotional well-being.