Xavier eyed me with both cold detachment and something else in his wary eyes. Pride? Hell, anything but pride. I would have preferred he stoke my anger instead of mollifying it with respect that I didn’t deserve.

I was gonna have to assault Xavier Malone, right here in the Cross-Manhattan Mall in front of dozens of witnesses, and I would have thought that idea would feel better than it did. The guy really, really could be an asshole. Maybe if he’d deserved violence in the moment, it would have been easier.

I looked over the atrium banister at the five crowded floors of shoppers below us and recalled every shitty thing Xavier had ever done. Fortunately there was no shortage.

“You ready? Then let’s take it to the elevator,” he said with a shrug. “Getting you arrested in the lobby will work better. Cleaner. More efficient.”

I nodded.

We’d chosen to stage our fight in the main lobby of this busy shopping area, a place where neither of us had ever been, to keep our ruse as far from the penthouse and the other Masters as possible, while still making sure I was in a jurisdiction that would land me in Bonneville prison. I wasn’t going to be Ethan Warner when I was arrested, but Tad Warner, an easy identity to assume, though the flare of pain in Haven’s eyes had almost made me reconsider when Walker had suggested it. Sabrina had temporarily dyed my hair black so no one would recognize me at first. While I knew sharing a face with Eli would build the trust I needed, my red hair was a little too obvious, in a way that could get me killed.

I hadn’t gotten into a fight in years, easily eluding any violence with my wit and connections. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last fight I’d gotten into, though I knew it had something to do with a woman I’d hit on, who was not, as she’d told me, single. Fun times.

I’d forgotten the way adrenaline pumped through my veins like molten lava, the way my hands clenched and unclenched of their own accord, the way anger at something gave me the balls to prepare to hurt someone. If Xavier experienced any of these things, he hid it well. He stood as erect and aloof as if he were going out to dinner or prepared to meet a client to close a deal.

We both watched the numbers on the elevator blink as we descended to the ground level, when he turned to me. “As soon as we hit the third floor, you deck me,” he said, reminding me of the plan we’d agreed to back at the penthouse. We’d already called the police and given them an anonymous tip that there was a fight. And Sabrina and Haven were already outside, a pair of unobtrusive shoppers watching to make sure everything went according to plan.

Five lit up, and my stomach lurched. Four lit and my vision went a little blurry. At three, I hauled back with everything I had, and landed a hard, solid punch to his jaw.

“Christ,” he swore, his head snapping back a split second before he came right back for me. I ducked, narrowly avoiding his swinging hand.

This was not the fucking plan. To make it seem like simple assault, he wasn’t supposed to fight back. It was supposed to be one shot to the jaw, in front of witnesses. An open and shut case. But if he wasn’t following the plan, hell, I wouldn’t either. I dove for his torso, knocking him to the ground, just before the doors swung open on the first floor.

I pulled Xavier with me, so that we rolled right off the elevator and onto the floor of the lobby. People screamed and ran away from us. I made myself think of Haven, my mind playing tricks on me, Haven sitting on Xavier’s lap and his hands entwined in her hair. I needed to make this real if I was going to attempt to beat him, and the conjured-up image helped.

“You son of a bitch!” I yelled, for the sake of making this look good. “You ever fucking touch her again, I’ll kick your ass!”

I knelt above him, reared back and punched him again, hard. He lifted his fists in defense, unable to swing back, when I heard the sounds of sirens and felt strong arms lifting me from behind at the same time Xavier socked me in the gut.

I shoved him, but made it look harder than it was, and fought against the grip he held on my arms as three uniformed officers entered the lobby. “Let go of me. I saw him making eyes at my girl and I’m gonna kill him,” I fumed to the security guard holding me, but I didn’t really fight. This was what I had to do.

Xavier had taken the hit to his jaw. I’d take the hit to my pride. The rest passed in a blur, as I knew I couldn’t avoid the inevitable now. I needed to keep my wits about me and stick to our plan. The rest played out like a scene from a TV show, between the blaring siren, flashing lights, curious onlookers, and snap of cuffs on my wrist.

“Assault and battery on Park Avenue,” I heard the officer call in before I was slammed unceremoniously in the back of a cruiser and the door shut with a bang. God, it smelled in here, like old tennis shoes and sweat, and my stomach rolled with nausea. I swallowed the bile in my throat, which no doubt rose not only from my current situation, but the seriously well-aimed uppercut to my stomach Xavier landed before the police arrived.

He’d held himself erect, wiping a folded handkerchief to the corner of his mouth where I’d split his lip open, every bit the Madison Avenue Malone who’d curry favor with the officers before they hauled my ass to jail. I looked out the window, to where he stood chatting with the officers on the sidewalk and met his gaze. He was too smart to do anything friendly that could betray our plans, but the look in his eyes showed more than his usual detachment. We could fight with each other and he drove me up a fucking wall, but this man was like a brother to me. He’d come through for me.

But it was the second pair of eyes that met mine before the cruiser took off that gave me hope. Haven’s firm, unwavering gaze pierced through the dim haze of my mind and reminded me why I was here. My wrists burned from the cuffs, my nostrils flared with the stench, and my stomach ached. Hell, in that moment, I forfeited more than my pride, more than my personal comfort. I couldn’t protect Haven, like I’d done the night before, couldn’t make sure she got home safe or wore the right shoes or the cuts on her hands fucking healed well.

There were no words that would earn me her forgiveness. And as the sirens blared and the cruiser picked up speed, I remembered my purpose. I’d be on my best game.

Hell, I was putting trust in all of them.

I’d find the information I needed in jail. I’d find Luis and convince him to confide in me. But I’d make it out, because I needed to come back for Haven.

* * *

“One phone call, Mr. Warner,” the corrections officer at the door said, as he led me out of the cell and down a narrow, dank hallway. Six hours later, I’d been processed and finally put into prison, wearing my obligatory jumper and flip flops, my wrists cuffed.

“You guys still do that shit, huh?” I said with a grin. “People even know phone numbers anymore? I mean, everyone has numbers saved to their cells and shit.”

His brows shot up in surprise, but he didn’t give much away, choosing not to answer me. I did a quick scan of his clothes. Neat and tidy, a dark shirt tucked into neatly-pressed slacks, shoes that gleamed, but showed wear around the edges. He was a little younger than I was, with a military-style haircut that made his ears sorta stick out. He was tall and thin, his clean-shaven jaw clenched tightly as he led me to a small area that looked like an office of sorts, except for the bullet-proof glass that lined one wall.

“You look like someone I knew once,” he said, and a part of me wanted to let him in, to get him on my side, but I had to keep my mouth shut.

I rolled a shoulder, a half-shrug. “I get that a lot,” I said, looking away.

He picked up the phone and handed it to me. I’d memorized every number to the Masters before I’d left, knowing I’d have this chance. I called Haven.

“Hello?” she answered on the first ring, and just hearing her voice, I felt the tension seep out of me. I no longer felt the pain in my stomach or wrists, or the fraught tension that thrummed through my veins since I’d first set foot in here. It was Haven, and it sounded corny as hell, but in that moment, I loved her voice. I loved even saying the word Haven in my mind.

Safety. Refuge. Sanctuary.

I swallowed with difficulty.

“Hey,” I said.

“What happened?” she asked. “God that took forever. I knew it would, though. Takes hours to process.” The phones were tapped, and we couldn’t pretend anything had been intentional. So I figured I’d make it worth my while.

“Son of a bitch needs to keep his hands off you,” I said. “That goddamned Malone thinks money can buy everything? Well not on my watch. Not my girl.” I heard a huff of indignation on the other line, and I knew Walker had set it up so all the Masters were listening in on this conversation. I’d just pissed Xavier off. Well, opportunities like this didn’t happen every day. I fought a smile.

“Still, baby,” I said, “you need to be careful. I know you care about me, and I appreciate that, but I don’t want you putting your own ass on the line for me. Not for a loser like that.”

I heard a snicker in the background. Nod to Walk.

“Hey, listen,” she said, sobering. “Walker is taking care of things here. Don’t worry about that. Take care of yourself.” Haven had the plan worked out perfectly. I needed to be in the general population, not isolated like a newly-charged inmate being screened for using drugs. Tonight, Walker would have me put in “overflow,” tapping into the system so the numbers showed there were too many of us arrested, and I’d land my ass where I needed to be. I had only needed to get in touch with the Masters to see if anything had changed.

I’d gone over Luis’ physical description so many times, I practically had the guy’s face memorized. We had pictures of his profile, and I knew I’d recognize him by the identifying tattoos along his neck, the only ones visible in his jumper.

The CO who’d brought me here stood next to me, nodding. “I have to go now. You staying safe?”

“Of course,” she said. “Watching a chick flick with Sally tonight.” Lame. Sally was Sabrina. Still, it made me smile.

The sudden loss of damn near everything made me reluctant to hang up the phone. I’d give anything to be back in the penthouse, and to see Haven again.

“Be good,” I whispered into the phone, and just as the guard took it, I heard her parting, “You, too.”

I hung my head, defeated at the sudden loss of all that was bright and good in my world right now. But I had to prove that I could do this. I owed this to Eli. To the other Masters. To Sabrina, and Haven.

A large, burly man covered in so many tattoos I could hardly see a blank patch of skin beneath his prison jumper pushed past me and knocked me off kilter. I almost stumbled, and he only chuckled.

“Hey! Watch it!” I snapped before I even realized where I was or who I was, and the burly guy easily three times my size turned a pissed-off look on me.

Shit.

But before he could do anything, the corrections officer inserted himself between us, and shoved us both apart.

“Shut it, Warner,” the CO said to me. The other prisoner narrowed his eyes until I could barely make out his pupils.

“You remind me of someone,” he said. “He was a CO, looked just like you, but a redhead. Didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.” He tipped his head to the side.

Fuck.

But before he could say another word, the guard pulled him away and handed him the phone. “Take your damn call and stop causing trouble, or you skip your call today.”

With a look of hatred and a grunt, the guy grabbed the phone and put it up to his ear. I, on the other hand, got the fuck out of there and was grateful for my escort back to my cell. I was at least thankful it was clean in here. Haven assured me everything was scrubbed down routinely, other inmates so scared of catching whatever disease or infection the previous inmate had, they kept themselves clean. The whole place smelled sterile.

It was a two-man cell, a pair of bunk beds attached to the wall. Across from the beds was a table about one-foot wide, a steel toilet in the wall with no seat or lid attached. The whole room had to have been eight feet by four, and the memory of Caelan serving time made me shake my head. He’d take up the whole fucking room.

I climbed onto the top bunk and pulled the threadbare blanket up over my shoulder.

I talked to no one. The only one I needed to talk to I’d see in the morning, if what Haven had just told me was true. Tonight, I was the silent one who hopefully would be out of here in a day or two.

The door to the cell creaked back open before the guard clicked it shut with a bang. I looked quickly, but my cell mate didn’t even acknowledge me.

I realized then how much I’d come to rely on the others. There was no Caelan to run interference and knock some skulls together for me, no Anson with his quick wit and nimble feet to cause a distraction so I could run, no Walker to have my back. I’d have given anything to have even Xavier in his cool, calm, collected assholery. I turned and faced the wall, the memory of my brother’s death now making nausea roll through me.

Would I face the same fate?

I needed tomorrow to get here fast.

I closed my eyes, the vision of wide green eyes behind black-framed glasses soothing me. She’d be there when I got out, and I’d make her mine.

* * *

I rolled over, the crick in my neck singing a sorry tune, my back aching, and at first, I couldn’t remember why. What had I done the day before to cause such pain? Then it all came back to me at once.

Fuck.

I lay as still as I could, listening to hear if anyone else was up yet, but it was never really quiet in a cell. Someone was always running water, talking, turning over on the creaky beds, or singing. Down the hall, I heard a few people carrying on a full conversation in a language I didn’t know, someone else coughing, and closer to me, the sound of a toilet flushing.

If everything went according to plan, and Walker had performed his magic, I’d be hauled out to do roadside clean-up with Luis after breakfast. I watched everything I could on my way to eat and grabbed a chair, needing to blend in with the others. The man next to me grunted into his bowl of oatmeal, and a brief scuffle behind me was quickly ended when the corrections officers stepped in and separated the two. This was a hopeless place, where every detail was carefully planned to keep people safe. No access to privacy. No bathroom sinks, but instead a little measured drip of a faucet. And this was where my brother had chosen to spend his time?

The guard who’d taken me to make the phone call the night before came up to me and stood by my side. He was tall and thin, his blue eyes sharp, hair shaved high and tight. I looked up at him, choked down some dry toast, and followed it with some coffee.

“Hey,” I said.

He shook his head. “I can’t believe how much you looked like that CO I knew. He was a Warner too. Eli Warner. Maybe a relative of yours?” His gaze grew probing as if he waited for a flicker of recognition, but I’d learned to mask emotion.

My stomach churned at the sound of my brother’s name. “Oh yeah?” I asked, thankful that I had my past ability to bullshit on my side. I kept my voice nonchalant. “No idea. Stranger things have happened, I guess.” And even though it killed me, I had to end his suspicions. “He still around?”

The guard looked at me strangely. I knew this look. I’d pulled enough cons to know this guy was onto me, and he didn’t believe I had no connections to the man he once knew. Fuck.

“No. He’s dead.”

Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed hard but didn’t look away. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Hunter!”

He turned and walked in the direction of where he was called. I took my tray and emptied it into a bin to be washed. I’d have Walker run that name.

I breathed out. Maybe Hunter was Eli’s friend? I had no idea.

Hunter came back, frowning at a paper in his hand. I knew what would be coming if Walker had done what he was supposed to. I’d been arranged to be escorted out for community service, and he knew that this wasn’t right, that I wasn’t supposed to be going with him anywhere. Hell, if this arrest had followed the usual procedure, I wouldn’t have even been in the general population to begin with. I looked to him.

“My name on that sheet?” I asked in a low voice.

His jaw tight, his eyes flicked back to the sheet. His head jerked in a nod.

“Then I guess I need to go with you.”

He shook his head, disbelieving, but I was jostled away from him in the crowd. I breathed out a sigh of relief, feeling like I just dodged a fucking bullet.

I followed the others as we were corralled into a van, the guards carrying and wearing visible weapons. Luis and I were supposed to be behind bars. Men convicted of crimes like his didn’t get community service.

I looked over the faces of the men near us, my focus on finding one man. Six foot one, dark skin, shaved head, clean-shaven. It wasn’t until we were driven to the roadside and handed our tools to clean the road that I spied him, a good twenty paces ahead of me, the scroll of a tattoo on his neck visible when he bent down to begin his work.

I made my way toward him with quick, purposeful steps. Luis stood several yards away from the others, and as I neared him, my body tensed. I had to play this right.

I stabbed at the ground with my stick and nabbed a candy wrapper. My time was short, every word I uttered crucial.

“Luis.”

I turned to face him, when he looked up at me in surprise, his eyes guarded. I didn’t waste a second.

“Pretend for a second I have red hair. Remind you of a guy you knew?”

“What the fuck, man?” he said.

“Eyes down, clean the fucking road,” I ordered. “We have no time.”

He did as I said, spearing the litter with vehemence.

“No time to show you I’m someone you can trust so I’m laying it all on the line,” I said in a low voice, as a guard passed us, and then moved out of earshot. “You knew my brother, Eli Warner.”

“What is this shit?”

Ignoring him, I continued. “My brother’s death wasn’t an accident. You already called that one. Haven Wright, Max Pederson’s attorney, mentioned that you told Max you and he were framed by the same people. When I ask a question, nod your head once for yes, one shake to the side for no.” I waited for him to acknowledge he’d heard me and when he gave me a firm chin lift, I pushed on. “You were framed for the rape of Carmen Bianchi,” I said low. A quick nod. “You are innocent?” A harder nod of his head.

I speared litter, the anger and injustice rolling through me as I took it out on the road around us.

“You tell me what you know, and I’ll get you out of here.”

“Motherfucker,” he muttered in bewilderment. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

I looked at him then. “You’ve got to trust me.”

He didn’t respond. I had to push forward. “Why were you framed?”

He nabbed an empty coffee cup. “I was dating Stella Bianchi. The Bianchi family didn’t like it. Because of my ties to Stella, I knew too much about the Bianchi family, and thanks to me, your brother did, too.”

Son of a bitch.

“What did you know?”

He swore under his breath. “I’m supposed to tell a guy I don’t know shit that’s already gotten people killed? I was supposed to be murdered, man. The only reason I’m standing on two feet is because Stella intervened.”

He knew shit about the Bianchis, and my brother had been searching for incriminating evidence that could get the Bianchis thrown in jail.

“My brother believed you were innocent. He wanted to prove it. And I do, too.”

We grabbed trash in silence for a minute. I was experienced enough to know not to push. I had to let him tell me himself. I’d given him what he needed to trust me and now it was his turn. My patience paid off.

“They own a bar named Silver,” he whispered.

“Yes.” My breath hitched but I kept cool.

“You gonna remember this shit?” he asked me with a mirthless chuckle.

“I don’t forget anything,” I said honestly. “Fuck, sometimes, I wish I could.” I hadn’t meant to say that part, so I slammed my mouth shut.

“I know what you mean, man,” he said.

I risked looking up from my work to make eye contact with him, and the fire in his eyes renewed my conviction. I’d get him out of here if it was the last thing I did.

“Tell me what you know. I’m taking this information to people who can help you.” He looked at me in silence for a moment, and I felt the solidarity, knew in my gut this man knew pain like I did, and wanted vindication.

“I don’t know you from Adam, man,” he said with a shake of his head. “But I knew Eli. I’ll do it for him.”

And then he began to talk.

* * *

Weary from the sun beating down on me, I slumped my way back to my cell. Any minute now, I’d get the word and be able to walk, if Walker’s magic had worked. The names Luis had given me ran through my brain without ceasing. I’d engraved them into my memory, ready to give them to Walk in a debrief when I got out of here.

I’d also told Luis he needed to make Haven his attorney of record immediately. The only way I’d be able to communicate with him back and forth would be through her. I’d told him my first goal was to find the evidence to get him set free through the courts. But if that wouldn’t be possible, we’d also set up a contingency plan to get him out.

And shit, I needed to get the fuck out of here as badly as he did. I needed a shower in my own private bathroom, to wash away everything I remembered, everything I knew, and replace it with… what?

Haven.

Would I be able to make her mine when I got out of here?

Fuck. I had a new purpose in life.

So wrapped up in thoughts of my future with Haven, and ready to get the fuck out of this place, I almost missed the big, hulking form that blocked my path. What the hell?

It took me a minute to realize this was the same man I’d run into the night before. He stepped in front of me, stuck his foot in the cell, grabbed me around the waist, yanked me in, and pulled the cell door shut behind him.

Fuck.

The cell was so tight he couldn’t swing, but his knee slammed into my groin, then his elbow hit my rib cage. Red hot pain shot through me as I fell to the floor, and as I did, I would almost swear I saw the guard, Hunter out in the hall. “Hey!” I yelled, before turning my attention was yanked back to the man in my cell. He loomed over me, and my stomach rolled with the knowledge that there was nowhere to go. My mind conjured up the image of Eli, right here in this fucking dismal place, succumbing to the same realization.

“You son of a bitch,” I hissed, knocking him back harder than I thought possible. He crashed into the bunk with a dull thud and scream of rage, then lunged at me, bending my whole frame toward his. His knee caught my groin so hard I saw literal stars as I doubled over in pain. Winded and immobilized, I wheezed for air as his foot struck my back with a dull, aching thump. He lifted my body and cracked my head against the cold concrete. Everything went black.