Chapter Nineteen
“You saw her?” Cole demanded. “You saw them take the woman who was in this room?”
His younger sister sighed, tilting her head to the side. “You’ve created quite the shit storm for me, asshole.”
He wasn’t interested in what that meant, but was struck by the sudden relief that she was here. That she, at least, appeared to be okay.
In three strides he’d crossed the room and pulled her into a tight embrace. The last time he’d seen her had been outside the Wild Rose, the strip club where she worked. He’d been trying to talk to her about Marsi’s disappearance, just a week before, but she barely gave him the time of day.
Maybe she’s the one who fucked up, did you ever consider that? Elaina had said. Up until that moment he hadn’t, but the thought hadn’t strayed far from him since then.
Now he knew better. Marsi was a victim in their father’s criminal activity. His father tried to play a victim as well, but Cole knew better. Even if August had lost his wife to Lynch, he was not an innocent man. This life had changed him. He’d tried to kill his own daughter.
“Thank God you’re okay,” Cole told her. “How did you find me?”
“I followed you from your job earlier,” she said.
He couldn’t imagine what she’d been through. If it was anything like what Marsi had, she was lucky to be alive.
“Jesus,” said Elaina, her face muffled against his shirt. “This is daytime talk show reunion material.”
She was right. They’d talk later. “You said you saw the woman in this room.”
“Mackenzie Sharp.”
He grabbed his sister’s shoulders. “You know her.”
“The shit I know could fill an ocean,” she said, mouth pulling tight. She pushed him back a step. “What are you doing with Lynch, Cole?”
How did she know about that? Maybe Marsi had gotten in touch with her in the last few minutes, or maybe their father had passed the message along.
“Did Dad tell you—”
“Dad and I had a falling out,” she said curtly. “It happens sometimes when a younger, much smarter child takes over the family business.”
Cole’s jaw tightened. “You’re selling drugs.”
She waved a hand at him, like this was neither here nor there.
He took a closer look at her then. At the hard lines of her face and the shadows beneath her eyes that she’d tried to hide with makeup. She was more refined, more professional, than he’d ever seen her, but she looked tired, and strained, and too thin.
Marsi had put her in rehab before. Maybe that’s where she should have been now.
“I had a plan,” she said. “And you went ahead and thought you’d play gangster. You almost screwed everything up.”
He shook his head. “What does this have to do with Kenzie?”
Elaina groaned. “What are you doing? You’re Cole. Your big life’s accomplishment was supposed to be becoming an actuary or something. You have no idea the kind of shit you’ve gotten yourself into. These are not people you mess around with.”
He couldn’t believe she was lecturing him.
“I know that,” he said. “Do you?” He couldn’t imagine she’d get involved with them if she really knew what they were capable of.
“I’m here, aren’t I? And by the way, nice room.”
“They killed Mom.”
The words hung in the air, ugly and poisonous, and she backed away a little, as if she were afraid they might touch her.
“I know,” she said finally.
“I have to find Kenzie before they do the same,” he said.
After a moment, she nodded. She reached into her pocket and held up a small piece of paper bearing the hotel’s insignia. Raw was scratched in black ink.
“It was on the floor when I got here.”
Cole nodded, gripping the piece of paper so tightly in his hands it started to tear.
“We have to move fast,” Elaina said. “Lynch doesn’t mess around with business.”
They left the room, jogging to the elevator bank. Elaina carried a folder of some sort in her hand, something he hadn’t seen in the room. The gun had disappeared into the back of her waistband, beneath her jacket. He still didn’t fully understand what she was doing here, or why she’d come now. It didn’t matter at the moment.
Cole jammed his finger against the button over and over, but the car still took its sweet time.
He kept thinking of Kenzie in the hands of the men from Ambrose. Of them hurting her. Of all the ways they might try.
“We have to call the police,” he said, brow damp with sweat.
“We can’t.”
“Elaina,” he nearly shouted. “A woman might die.”
She grabbed his forearm, squeezing. “There’s a clean way to play this, and a dirty way,” she said quietly. “You want to call the cops? Fine. See what happens when Lynch hears them coming.”
“I can’t . . .” The elevator doors finally opened. Cole and Elaina got inside.
“The clean way means your girlfriend doesn’t walk out alive,” she continued. “My way gives her a shot.”
Her way. The dirty way. The illegal way.
It shouldn’t have mattered; he had planned on making a deal with the devil himself, anyway. But to think that his kid sister was somehow involved, that she was orchestrating this, filled him with a sense of wrongness.
He should have been keeping her out of things like this, not the other way around.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
She turned to him, a dangerous smile curling her red lips.
“I’m going to remind Lynch who’s in charge. If he wants to work with a Talent, he works with me.”
• • •
Twenty minutes after Cole had found Elaina in his room, they reached his restaurant. The Camry’s brakes squealed as he slammed to a halt in front of the building, and if he attracted any attention from the pedestrians on the sidewalks, he didn’t care. Tearing his keys from the ignition, he raced to the door, Elaina on his heels. The blinds had all been closed, as was procedure when he left at night, and the sign on the window—RAW, OPENING SOON—seemed to mock him as he fumbled with the keys.
Kenzie might he here. He hoped she was here.
He wished she were anywhere else in the world.
On the drive, he’d thought of a dozen worst-case scenarios. Her hurt. Bleeding. Dead. His father’s words had rung through his head over and over. I gave them Sophia.
He would not give them Kenzie, or anyone else.
If they wanted someone, they had him.
Kenzie had trusted him by coming here, but Cole had put her in danger again and again—first at Flapjacks, and then with the fire, and now, with whatever awaited him inside. He hoped Elaina was right about not calling the police. He trusted her, though he feared she thought she’d have more clout here than she actually did.
Lynch was a murderer.
His sister was the kind of person who burned comic books when she was pissed off.
But she knew things about Lynch and their father. About their mother. She’d been following Cole around town, having her people keep an eye on him. She’d told him in the car that she had more power than he imagined, and had been working on a plan to shut this down for months. That’s where she’d been—not hiding, but working on a plan, tucked into the thick manila envelope she carried beneath her arm.
Cole was out of the drug loop. Elaina would arrange distribution in Reno and Vegas. She’d already set everything up; they just needed to inform Lynch of the changeover.
He’d tried to convince her otherwise, but she’d told him it was this or Kenzie’s life.
He didn’t have a choice.
The door pulled inward before he’d turned the lock, and he came face-to-face with the last person he’d expected to see.
“Carson?”
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. Her tight ponytail made the tired shadows beneath her eyes more obvious.
“Hey, Cole.” She looked behind him, at Elaina, and a strange look passed over her face. Almost like recognition, but that couldn’t be right. They didn’t know each other.
He hadn’t scheduled a late meeting with Carson—he didn’t even know why she’d be here now.
“You have to leave,” he said quickly, reaching for her arm. She looked down at his hand, then shook free as he pulled her toward the door.
“You can’t be here now.” His voice lowered. “I’ll call you later. Just get out of here.”
“But things are just getting interesting.”
Cole spun toward a male voice coming from the kitchen entrance. There, in the threshold, stood one of the men he’d seen in Ambrose. The driver, with his shaved head, who’d traded athletic pants for slacks, and his zip-up for a suit jacket. He strode toward them, hands in his pockets. A cold sweat formed on Cole’s brow. He wondered if the man had a weapon.
His little sister had a weapon.
He had nothing but his own two hands.
“What’s she doing here?” The driver said, glaring at Elaina. Here was another person who seemed to know who she was. Maybe she’d been right in the car—she really was a force to be reckoned with.
“It’s a family affair, didn’t you hear?” Elaina asked, tension thinning the air around them.
“Go,” Cole hissed at Carson. Right then he wanted Elaina gone as well. He shouldn’t have agreed to her coming here. Whatever she thought she could do wasn’t worth it.
These men had killed his mother.
Carson moved toward the door, and locked it behind Elaina.
“Sorry, Fight Club,” she said. “I guess you know Finn.”
He stared at her, the words taking a moment to sink in. Then he looked back toward the driver—Finn—and felt his fear sharpen like the point of a knife, and burn hot with anger.
Carson was in on this, like Candi had been in on it. Like August had been in on it. So many people playing him from the very start.
Automatically, Cole began to tally their conversations—things they’d spoken about, vendors she’d recommended. How much of his business in this city had already been tainted? If everything she’d done had been with the goal of making Raw a drug hub, who knew how many favors were already owed, or already being cashed in?
Finn had approached, and began patting Cole down. He took his phone and his keys, and tucked them in his coat pocket.
He moved to Elaina, and quickly found her firearm. She grinned and batted her eyes at him when he slipped the barrel into his belt, as if this were a twisted kind of flirtation.
“Heard you were out of the game,” he told her.
“You heard wrong,” she said unflinchingly.
“Aw, there he is.” Behind him, in the threshold to the kitchen, appeared another of Cole’s favorite people. Jeremy. Cole’s jaw ached with a reminder of how their last visit had gone; the bruises had just begun to fade.
“Where’s Kenzie?” Cole demanded.
“She’s in the back,” Finn said. “Jeremy took real good care of her.”
A red veil slipped over Cole’s vision. His muscles coiled, tight enough to break his bones.
“I want to see her,” he said.
“Not until I hear what’s going on,” said Finn. “Boss doesn’t like surprises. This isn’t what August asked for.”
Cole was about to object, to smooth things over so Elaina could propose her deal, when she stepped closer to Finn.
“August is done,” she said. “Lynch needs to deal with me now.”
“Elaina,” Cole hissed. Maybe her plan was solid as far as drug empires went, but these were not men she wanted to aggravate.
“Don’t know if he’ll go for that,” said Finn. “After all, the Talent women have not proven to be the most dependable.”
Elaina grinned. “I thought you might say that. That’s why I brought him a token of my trust.”
Automatically, Cole looked to the envelope under her arm. It took a full beat to realize she hadn’t meant whatever she was carrying. Another to feel the heat of every person’s stare turning his way.
The token of trust she’d brought was him.
That’s how Lynch operates, August had said. He wants to make sure you won’t burn him. So he takes something from you so you remember who’s in charge.
“Wait,” Cole said. “Hold on a second.”
Vaguely, he was aware of Jeremy’s low laughter to his right. He willed Elaina to look at him, to give him some sign that this was part of her plan, and that she hadn’t just betrayed him.
She’d set Marsi free in Reno. She’d convinced them she was good, despite her chosen occupation.
But maybe August had been good once, too, before this life had changed him.
“Elaina.” She didn’t even look his way. Blood rushed in his ears. “Elaina.”
Had this been her plan all along? Had she known in the hotel room at the Paris that it would come to this? In the car, as she’d told him about her takeover plans? Why even bother warning him how dangerous Lynch and his men were if she was just as bad?
He couldn’t believe this was happening. He refused to believe it. The only reason she would give him up was if she was being forced to—if she was in danger herself. If there was no other way.
He was suddenly afraid, not just of her, but for her.
“Sorry, brother,” she said quietly. “Business is business.”
“Throw him in with the girl,” said Finn. “We’ll deal with them when Lynch gets here.”
Jeremy took a step forward. Cole focused on the gun in his hand, aimed at his chest. If Elaina did have a bigger plan, now would have been a great time to let him know.
“You gonna play nice?” Jeremy asked.
Cole didn’t bother answering.
Jeremy motioned with his chin over his shoulder, back in the direction of the kitchen. Before following, Cole glanced at Carson one last time, trying to discern if she was a willing player in this, or in just as much danger as he was.
“Sorry, Cole,” she said, looking genuinely remorseful.
“What about Max?” he muttered.
She looked to the ground. Carson had already made her choice. He couldn’t help feeling bad for her kid, though—if she actually had one.
Jeremy came around beside him, his presence a clear reminder not to step out of line. Leaving Elaina behind, he walked into Raw’s kitchen, scanning the sterile room for Kenzie. A few days ago he’d imagined her working here, or even managing it with him, but now he wished he’d taken her as far away from Vegas as possible. Carson and these men had ruined this place, or maybe he’d been the one to ruin it. Despite everything, he was still a Talent, still a magnet for trouble.
He was led to the cold room, through the double refrigerator doors where the restaurant would one day keep their perishable ingredients.
Please be okay, he thought.
Jeremy pulled the door back and revealed a woman sitting against the back row of racks, shielding her eyes against the light. The neck of her shirt was stretched, hanging off one shoulder, and her face was pale, but she looked otherwise unharmed.
“Kenzie.” Cole lunged toward her, pushing Jeremy aside. As soon as he’d crossed into the shadowed room the door was slammed shut behind him. The lock clicked in place.
“Cole?”
The darkness unsettled him, making him feel as if he’d been swallowed by some kind of monster. He knelt by her feet, feeling his way up her arms and then holding her face in his hands. Relief flowed through him, cool and liquid.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and kissed her hard on the mouth. She shifted, rising on her knees, her bound arms between them. Her forehead rested against his shoulder, and as her whole body sagged against him, he held her tighter.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. “Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head. “What about you?” Her voice was muffled in his collar. He didn’t loosen his grip around her. If he could have pulled her inside himself, he would have.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he promised. He didn’t know how, but he knew with certainty he would do whatever it took to set her free.
“Did you call the police?” she asked, hope lacing through her raw voice.
He held her tighter.
“Their boss is coming,” she whispered. “Lynch. I heard them talk about him.”
He stroked her back and brushed his cheek over her silky hair, committing the feel of her to memory. He breathed in the cinnamon scent that always clung to her skin. If this was the last time he held her, he needed this good-bye.
“Everyone’s going to be here.” She was still clinging to a plan that had already failed. They couldn’t call the police, because they were both stuck in here. He’d trusted Elaina when she’d told him the best bet for Kenzie’s survival would be to play dirty, and now they didn’t stand a chance.
“Kenzie, listen to me,” he said. “When they open the doors, you stand behind me. There’s an exit in the back of the kitchen. When I say, I want you to run . . .”
“No,” she said, shaking her head against his neck. “I’m not leaving you here.”
He adjusted his legs in front of him, and then pulled her close again. His arms were shaking, or maybe she was shaking. It didn’t matter; he couldn’t let her go.
“You have to run. If you can get out, call the cops.”
“Cole, what happened?”
He closed his eyes. “My sister’s here. She’s making a deal with Lynch.”
“Marsi?”
“No,” he said. “Elaina.”
He wondered if Marsi knew the extent of Elaina’s involvement in this world. For a moment, he even considered they might be in on it together—Marsi had run with that book after all. But Kenzie had seemed certain of Marsi’s innocence, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t imagine his big sister entangled in drug negotiations.
Kenzie sat back, and though he couldn’t see her, he could imagine the way her brows would pull together in confusion. “How . . .”
“It’s a long story,” he said. “I don’t even really understand all of it. All I know is we can’t count on her to help.”
She came close again, her lips against his neck.
“I should have gotten away,” she said. “I could’ve run through the casino. I . . .”
He hushed her.
Kenzie would get out of this. He would do everything in his power to make that happen. Elaina wanted him to be her bargaining chip? Fine. They could take him, and let Kenzie go.
He felt his way down her arms to her bound wrists, grimacing against another bolt of anger as he tugged at the plastic zip ties that bound them.
He would give himself over if it meant her safety, but he would not go down without a fight. Somehow, he would find a way to make them suffer for this—for every single scratch on her body. For every moment she’d been afraid.
“I want you to run,” he said again. “And keep running. I’m so sorry it’s come to that, but there’s no other way.”
“I’m not leaving you,” she said again. They’d been whispering, but now her voice was firmer.
“I love you,” he told her.
Her small intake of breath filled his ears. Without seeing her, every other sense was more acute. He was aware of every small movement.
“I love you, Kenzie. And I’m sorry you were dragged into this.”
He couldn’t remove the plastic ties. Not without hurting her, and not without a pair of scissors or a knife. So he brought her hands against his heart and held them there, flatting her fingers over his chest. He didn’t know how many minutes he had left with her.
“What kind of love?” she asked.
The question took him off guard.
“What do you mean?”
“Like, I like you a lot, or I love you like a sister, or that girl’s so funny, I just love her, or the other kind?”
He thought about this a moment. “I think all the kinds. Except maybe the sister one.”
“The forever kind?” she asked. “The cross-the-universe kind?”
“The cross-every-universe kind,” he said. “The entire-Marvel-megaverse kind.”
“Then why would you ever let me go?”
His heart knotted in his chest. He stared ahead into the dark, imagining her face. Wishing he could see her now, and that she could see him. Remembering the sound of her laugh, and the feel of her, and all the ways they fit together.
He hadn’t known the exact moment he started loving her, just like he couldn’t say the exact moment he woke up in the morning. It had happened so effortlessly, he’d hardly noticed. There was only the time before, and then Kenzie. Darkness, and then her.
And somehow, because fate was some kind of super villain, he had to let her go.
“We’re going to get out of this together,” she said. “And then you’re going to come to Ambrose with me.”
His heart was thundering. He couldn’t hope for things like this. Not now.
“I can’t.” She didn’t understand. He wasn’t walking away from this. Even if somehow he did, danger would always follow him. She’d never be safe if they were together.
“Come with me,” she pressed. “If you love me, stay with me.”
He slumped, and she leaned in, and their cheeks brushed against each other, drawing heat, even now, in his veins.
“Then I’m staying with you,” she whispered.
He pressed his lips to the base of her neck, one of his favorite places, where the plane of her shoulder met the delicate skin of her throat. Her breath warmed his ear. Maybe all of this was a fantasy. Maybe the doors would open and he could create enough of a distraction for her to run, but just for these seconds he let himself believe there was another way.
“What about your home?” he asked.
She cried quietly, nuzzling his jaw, kissing his temple.
“I always thought home was a place,” she said. “When you left the hotel to see your dad I realized I was wrong. Home’s not a place, it’s a person.”
His breath came out in a huff.
“It’s you,” she said.
His chest felt like it might explode. He murmured her name.
“We’re going to get out of this, Cole. We’re going to go back to Ambrose. And things will be all right. We’ll rebuild the diner.” She was talking faster now, and her desperation was breaking him. “You can stay at my apartment until we find something bigger, and then, someday, when you finally get around to asking, we’ll get married. It doesn’t have to be a big ceremony, but there’s this hill at Johnson State Park right outside of town—”
He kissed her.
He kissed her until the things threatening to break them, the things he’d locked away so she wouldn’t be scared, shook free inside his chest. Her bound wrists went up and around his neck, and she climbed onto his lap and straddled him, pressing against him. He held her like she’d blow away.
Their mouths were frantic, and hungry, and he ached for more—for the peace that only came when he was inside her. He needed her, and right now he had her, and nothing could take her away.
He loved her, and told her again. It didn’t matter if she said it back just as long as she knew where he stood.
Before he was ready to stop, he held her one last time, and then set her beside him on the floor. Rising, he felt his way to the door. The room was empty—the racks were bolted to the walls, but they’d yet to put anything inside. He had nothing to fight with, but he would find a way to get her out.
A few minutes passed, and the door opened. The sudden burst of light had him squinting and blocking his eyes. Kenzie moved to the side, but gripped his arm in a fierce show of protection.
“Well, isn’t this sweet?” said Finn, amusement warping his tone.
Gently, Cole removed Kenzie’s grip, and shifted in front of her. He still couldn’t see what waited outside the cold room door—his adjusting eyes only made out silhouettes.
“Come on,” Finn said.
He stepped outside, Kenzie just behind him. The three from earlier were still here—Jeremy, Finn, and Carson. Cole blinked, reading faces for intent, watching hands for weapons. Only a passing sneer was reserved for the manager he’d hired. Trusting her had been a mistake.
Elaina was not present—she must have still been on the main floor.
Kenzie couldn’t run with all these people standing around. Someone would catch her. They had to wait for another opening.
“Boss is here,” said Finn. Beside him, Jeremy smiled. Carson glanced around the room warily, her stiff gait as she walked toward the door giving Cole pause. Maybe she hadn’t been as willing a participant in this game as he’d thought.
Voices could be heard from the main floor. Two people at least—a man and a woman. Cole recognized his sister’s low tone, but the other was only vaguely familiar. Behind him, he reached for Kenzie’s hands, holding both of them in one of his. He squeezed.
It will be all right, that squeeze said.
He would make sure it would be all right.
Carson was the first through the door, followed by Finn, then Cole and Kenzie, and last but not least, Jeremy. Cole glared at the gun in the back of Finn’s waistband as they walked, adrenaline whispering across his nerves.
He told himself to be ready for anything.
There, in a nook where the hostess would one day sit, was a small card table, one he and Carson had set up as a makeshift office so they could do work and conduct meetings. Seated behind it were two people. Sean Connell, wearing a teal dress shirt topped by a sport coat, his thin hair gelled back neatly, and Elaina.
He knew then that his instincts had been right. Sean Connell was trouble. In on this since before he’d ever set foot in this restaurant.
He fought the urge to call out to Elaina. To give her one more chance to explain what was going on.
Instead, he waited.
He wasn’t surprised when Carson went to stand beside Sean. She’d vouched for him, after all, and if she was in on this, so was he. Cole recalled how she’d even offered to ask Sean for a list of potential chefs. More people to cover up the drug operation, no doubt.
“Sean Connell,” she said, dipping her head his direction. “Also known as Frank Lynch. Your father may have mentioned him once or twice.”
Lynch. The man who had the pharmaceutical companies in one pocket, and the police in the other. The man who was responsible for his mother’s death.
Cole remembered the first time Sean—Lynch—had come to this restaurant, gazing out the front windows and treating Cole like a welcome friend. Cole had known something was wrong. He should have trusted that instinct. Instead he’d trusted Carson. If he hadn’t, Kenzie might not be here now.
A protective rage hardened every muscle in Cole’s body as he looked back to Elaina. She was signing paperwork, as if it were any job application rather than part of her drug operation.
It didn’t occur to him until then how odd it was that she had thought to write any of this down. That would create a paper trail, something the cops could use against her. If he’d learned anything from his father and the journal Marsi had taken, it was that that was a very bad idea.
“Nice to see you again, Cole,” said Sean. “So sorry about the wait. Traffic’s always a pain this time of day.” Beside him, Carson gave Cole and apologetic smile, then tucked her hands in her back pockets.
He focused on his sister. “Elaina?”
She stood, hands spread on the documents on the table before her. Her gaze lifted to his, pointed and intense, and he felt a wave of uncertainty. If she had truly given him up as a token of trust, how was he still alive?
It was crazy, but he almost wanted her to be forced into this situation. It was better than the alternative—that she truly had arranged this herself. That these people around them were some kind of friends of hers. That her brother’s life meant nothing to her.
That she was a criminal.
And yet she stood with purpose and authority, not shying away from these people. She was more at home here than she ever had been with her own family.
It was more difficult than he could have imagined to align the woman before him with the girl who used to yell at him for eating the last Oreo.
Kenzie stepped beside him, close enough that her arm brushed his. It grounded him, kept him focused.
“Elaina and I were just settling some business,” said Sean. “Getting a few things squared away.”
“And what things might that be?” asked Cole flatly, pulling Kenzie closer to his back.
“Your unnecessary role in our future business,” said Elaina. She looked older than he’d ever seen. Older, and hard, as if she’d lived on the streets, not in the enormous house they’d been brought up in.
She picked up the documents and stepped around the table toward him. He looked for any sign that she was scared, something that told him she was still his sister, not this, whatever this was.
He braced himself as she came close, glancing to the door. He could shove Kenzie toward it. If she was quick with the lock, she might be able to get onto the main street.
“Elaina has quite a plan,” said Sean. “She’s a Talent, through and through.”
His voice was like knives slicing Cole’s nerves. Knowing what he did about his mother, he couldn’t stand that they were in the same room. He wanted to demand answers, justice, something. But he couldn’t. Not with Kenzie still behind him.
“Dad thought you were stupid,” she said, staring at him with a sort of detached apathy. “He thought you’d run Rare and I could run our business out of the back, and no one would be any wiser. But you were too damn careful, weren’t you? You ran that place like a navy ship.” She sighed. “Thank God August Talent is finally out of the way. We can all thank my big sister for that.”
Cole laughed weakly. His sister really had taken over the family business. The girl he’d taught to skateboard, who’d cried when she’d skinned her knees. The girl who used to sneak into his room after their mom had left and make him read her his comic books until she fell asleep.
But this woman was not the girl he knew.
Elaina smiled. “The plan was never going to work at Raw. Not while you were in charge. Not after the way things went in Reno. So I had to work out a Plan B.”
“Which is?” Cole asked.
“You’re out, big brother,” she said. “You sign the restaurants over to me, and then you leave the state.”
“Elaina,” Cole hissed. “It’s not that easy.”
“I know,” said Elaina with a scoff. “What do you think I’ve been doing this past month? Trying to get these transfer papers drawn up. Lawyers are so damn stingy when it comes to the law.” She fanned the documents in front of her face.
He balked. She couldn’t be serious. He would have known if she’d been putting together this paperwork. It wasn’t just a matter of ownership papers. There was a loan with the bank. Expense accounts and petty cash funds. Licenses through the state.
She handed him the papers. Reluctantly, he began to flip through them.
She’d covered everything.
Everything.
“I don’t understand,” Cole said. “How . . .”
“Sign them,” Elaina said between her teeth. “As a token of trust.”
He realized all at once that this had been her plan from the beginning. Not to hand him over, but to make him sign. This was her show of faith to Lynch—not his life, but his submission of his restaurants.
His sister was planning on using Rare and Raw as a front to sell drugs. It was the same deal he’d been willing to offer, but she’d found a way to make it work to her advantage.
She would be in prison within the month. He would be in prison for handing the properties off.
“No hard feelings about your lady friend,” said Lynch, winking at Kenzie, half hidden behind Cole. “Needed to make sure you recognized how serious this is.” One hand absently patted his round gut.
Cole thought of his mother, and if she’d been taken just like this. If his father hadn’t done what was asked of him, and that’s why she’d been killed.
“We have a deal,” said Elaina. “You and Marsella won’t be accountable for any past transgressions.”
Cole dropped his voice so only Kenzie and his sister could hear. “Did they put you up to this?”
Elaina laughed. The sound threw him back a step, as if she’d hurled the worst possible insult his way.
“Maybe you’re not that smart after all,” she said. “Sign the papers, Cole.”
Cole stared down at the documents. He’d thought she’d been hiding, but this is what had kept her from answering his calls. This takeover. This scheme to push him out and expand their father’s drug empire. Her drug empire.
“This gets out and the deal’s off.” Elaina turned to Kenzie. “If either of you say anything about this, Flapjacks won’t be the only thing burning.”
Jeremy chuckled behind them.
“Cole,” Kenzie whispered. She was afraid, and he didn’t blame her.
He looked down at her, feeling himself split in half. His sister—his responsibilities to the restaurant or his family—or Kenzie.
Kenzie, and the family he could have, if he did what Elaina wanted.
“Be smart,” Elaina said quietly. “This is your only play, Cole. Get out while you can. Take her with you. You and Marsi need to forget about me.”
“What about you?” he asked. “I’m not leaving you here.”
“You don’t have a choice. The decision’s already been made.”
He could hear the strain in her voice then, an undercurrent of fear. But it was overridden by the absence in her eyes. This was not his sister. His sister was gone.
“Sign the papers,” she said. “Or they’ll hurt you, the only way they know how.” Her gaze shifted to Kenzie, and then back to him.
His head fell forward. He pinched his eyes closed.
Then he lifted his gaze to Elaina’s.
“I need a pen.”