Dark Devotions by Nichole Greene

19

SAWYER

I’m sittingbeside Grant at a table in the corner of one of his restaurants in midtown when Harold Davis comes in. He’s an average-looking, middle-aged man, the kind of guy that is a dime a dozen here in Manhattan. His eyes are shrewd though, and that has me paying closer attention. I stay quiet while Grant discusses his vision for the next restaurant and the logistics of what he needs in an investor.

Despite Grant’s charm and how easy it is for him to work people, Davis continues to insist that his people should be in charge. He claims to have the best connections down in Philadelphia, where Grant is looking to expand his empire. Every time Grant brings the conversation back around to what he’s looking for, Davis does the same thing, back to his talking points. It’s a master class of manipulation, but no one can pull Grant’s strings.

Eventually I intervene and ask for the paperwork Davis has brought with him, so I can look through the legalities. I settle back with a glass of water. Grant and Davis give each other just enough polite conversation to smooth over the tension of the meeting.

Once Davis leaves, Grant blows out a deep breath, looking at me for confirmation. “Something was off about him, right?”

“Definitely. Why was he so insistent on something so minor?”

“I don’t know, but we’re definitely not going into business with him.”

“Grant Williams and Sawyer Ambrose,” a familiar voice calls from across the restaurant, and my blood runs cold. “Just the men I was hoping to find.”

Tripp Daniels strides toward us in all his southern California glory. His unnaturally white teeth stand out against his tan and his blond hair is tousled like he just walked off the Santa Monica Pier. The only thing that speaks to the savagery we now know he possesses are his cold eyes.

“Tripp.” I compose myself quickly. Part of me dies as I extend my hand for a handshake from this fucking piece of garbage, but I already know we have to play it safe. “Long time. What brings you to New York?”

“Looking for my wife actually.” He stares us both down as he speaks. “I thought she might come looking for you. She’s unwell, you see. Liv’s been fighting mental health issues for the past few years. Ever since her parents’ unfortunate accident.”

I can feel the anger radiating off Grant as I struggle to push my own down into the depths of my soul. “I haven’t seen her.” I look over at Grant. “Have you?”

“No, it’s been years. I can’t believe you would even think she’d come to us. Doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“That’s odd.” Tripp holds up a grainy photo of Liv and Grant from last night in his office. It looks like they’re having sex in his chair. “Because this woman looks an awful lot like Liv. I mean, this bitch is a little fatter, so it could be a mistake.”

I feel Grant vibrating with anger, so I kick him under the table. “That’s one of the dancers from Seven.”

“Right.” He gives us both a disbelieving look. “Liv was always pretty cold in bed, too. Like a limp noodle, you know? Never knew if she was done until you threw her against the wall to see if she sticks or slides down.”

My vision starts to go black around the edges as I fight for every ounce of control I can find. I manage to give him a tense smile. “I don’t remember ever having to wonder if she was satisfied after being together.”

His fake smile falters before growing even more psychotic. “That’s right,” he points at us, “I forgot you guys used to pass her around. Glad I was man enough to correct her whore-ish behavior.”

“I haven’t seen her, and neither have the rest of us.” Grant stands up. “We actually have another meeting to get to across town. Good seeing you, Tripp.” He shakes his hand and stares him down. “I’m sure we’ll run into you again soon if you’re staying in the city.”

“I’ll be here until I find my wife and take her back home.”

We start to walk away, and I stop, turning back to him. “What makes you think she’s in the city?”

“Easy.” A cold smile crosses his wretched face as he speaks. “She’s got no one left. Her parents were killed in an accident. Tragic.”

I can feel the tension pulsating off Grant and know my own matches his. I jerk my head in a nod and follow a step behind Grant out the front door of the restaurant. We don’t speak until our driver pulls up, and we slide into the blacked-out SUV.

“That motherfucker knows,” Grant yells as soon as we’re inside. “He fucking knows.”

“He does. We cannot let him get his hands on Liv.”

“I will die before he lays one finger on her.”

“We need to get her out of the city again.” I look out the window to see pedestrians passing us by as we sit in midday traffic. “I’ll text and see if Nolan and Lake are with her.”

“I’m going to text Griff. I need to know how he got a picture of her and I together in my office,” Grant says as he pulls out his phone.

I unlock mine and pull up our group chat.

Sawyer: Are you guys with Liv?

Nolan: Yeah, got in about an hour ago.

Lake: She’s sleeping. What’s up?

Sawyer: Tripp approached us after Grant’s meeting. He was asking about Liv.

Lake: Does he know?

Sawyer: It appears that he does.

Grant: He didn’t outright accuse us though.

Sawyer: And we obviously told him we hadn’t seen her.

Nolan: We need to get out of the city.

Lake: It’s been awhile since we’ve been down to the beach house. A little pura vida sounds good.

I look over at Grant and he nods. A little getaway to Lake’s family’s beach house on the west coast of Costa Rica sounds perfect. No one even knows we have access to a place down there, and it’s fairly remote.

Sawyer: Sounds great. How should we tell Liv?

Lake: Do we need to? Why stress her out?

Grant: I don’t know about you guys but I’m back in her good graces and I’m NOT fucking it up by keeping secrets.

Nolan: Yeah, her thoughts on being kept out of the loop are pretty obvious.

Nolan: NOT A FAN.

Sawyer: Then I guess we tell her when she wakes up today.

Lake: I’ll arrange to have everything ready for us tonight.

“This conversation is going to suck,” Grant says quietly.

“I know. We should only tell her that he’s in town. She doesn’t need to know the specifics of what that asshole said.” My stomach hardens as I think about what he said, how he taunted us.

“He knew exactly what he was doing. Trying to get us riled up to say something stupid and incriminating.”

“It almost worked.” He looks over at me. “I have never wanted to cause another person more pain than I do him.”

“Right. I usually feel fine leaving the killing and torturing to Nolan and Lake, but this time I want to get my hands dirty.”

“Same.” He nods. “We’re all getting a turn to make him hurt.”

A short time later, we’re back up in the apartment. Nolan lets us know that Liv’s in the shower and Lake is in his apartment packing. We have a jet getting ready for departure in two hours, so Grant and Nolan both go to their apartments to start packing.

I grab one of my suitcases and open it on the bench in my closet. Then I grab another suitcase for Liv to borrow. We don’t know how long we’re going to stay down there, so I start pulling for an extended stay.

“Oh no,” Liv says from the closet doorway. “Where are you off to now?”

I turn and smile at her. “Not me, we. We’re all going down to Lake’s family’s beach house in Costa Rica for a while.” I gesture to the suitcase by the door with my head. “That’s for you. When I had my buyer get you clothes, I included all seasons. You should have plenty.”

“Why are we leaving again all of a sudden?” Her tone is suspicious and her eyes wary.

I hesitate for a split second but decide to tell her on my own about Tripp. It might be less overwhelming to hear it with only one of us present. I doubt the guys will take issue with it.

“After the meeting with Grant’s investor, we saw Tripp. He sought us out, asking about you.” I approach her slowly as the news sinks in.

Her skin pales, and her eyes widen. She swallows nervously and looks up at me with big brown eyes. “What’d he say? He knows I’m alive?”

“I think so.” I place my hands on her shoulders and gently rub circles on them. “He didn’t outright say it, and we definitely lied to him. Said we haven’t seen or talked to you in years.”

It looks like she’s going to say something else but stops herself. I wish I knew what was going on inside her mind right now. I can tell by how stiff she is under my hands that she’s thinking a million things all at once.

“What exactly did he say?” She looks at me with a blank gaze that I’m sure she’s mastered after years of abuse.

“A lot of things not worth repeating.” I lean down, so I’m eye level with her. “We’re going to keep you safe, okay? You will always be safe with us.” She glances away, and I redirect her focus back to me with a gentle finger on her jaw. “Say it back to me.”

She blinks a few times as if she’s trying to break through some sort of emotional wall. “You guys are going to keep me safe. I’ll always be safe with you.”

Her voice has a strange mechanical quality to it, but something is better than nothing, and if I have to make her say it all day, every day, I will. I will turn it into her own personal mantra until she believes it.

“You want to go start packing or wait for me to help you?”

“When are we leaving?”

“Plane leaves in two hours.”

That pulls her out of her fog. “Wait, can we even get to an airport in two hours?”

“We’ll take the helicopter to Newark. We’re flying private.”

“Right,” She blinks again. “I better start packing now, then.” She grabs the bag and disappears down the hallway.