Things were falling into place. I’d visited every board and foundation Thayer chaired and let them know of the shit storm that would reign down on them if they continued to keep him in their organization. Frankie was still digging, but I knew what she’d find. I knew Thayer’s pretty boy, nice guy image was as fake as half the tits in this city. And I wasn’t going to let what he’d done go unpunished.

I walked into my gym, ready to burn off some excess energy. I dropped my bag on the bleachers. This weekly pickup game was exactly what I needed right now. My phone vibrated in my hand. An unknown number. I tapped the screen.

“This is a collect call from a prisoner at San Quentin Correctional Facility. Would you like to accept the call?” I ended the call and shoved my phone into my bag.

“Stop fucking around and get out here, man,” said John Grimsby, “Grim” to anyone who wanted him to answer. He dribbled the ball before shooting it from halfway across the court and sinking it like it was nothing. He’d been all set to play college football before a knee injury stopped him dead in his tracks. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still play a little ball.

“I’m just letting you get your warm up shots done before I come out there and kick your ass,” I said, stepping onto the court and stealing the ball away from him, my sneakers squeaking, as I spun to make an easy layup.

“I gave that to you,” he said, strolling down the court. “Make it, take it,” he said, as I passed him the ball. The screeching of sneakers and balls dribbling on the court filled the air as other games went on around us.

“Fine with me,” I said, and watched as the ball sailed over my head and swished through the net. “I wasn’t ready,” I said, grabbing the ball and checking it back to him.

“And since when have you ever played fair?” he asked, dribbling the ball. “So, what’s the deal? What’s going on with you? You’re Mr. Secretive all of a sudden.” I stole the ball from him and sunk a three-point shot, trying to steer the conversation away from myself and his questions. Grim wouldn’t understand. His name aside, he was a forgiving kind of guy who wouldn’t be okay with me dredging up the past.

“I’m just working on something with Frankie. She’s helping me with a few things.”

“Ah. Mistress Francesca,” he said, chuckling.

“Don’t let her hear you call her that, or she’ll have you strapped down with a flogger on your ass in no time,” I warned, stealing the ball from him and scoring another easy three-point shot.

“Promises, promises,” he grumbled under his breath. He’d always had a thing for her. And he blew his chance.

“What?” I stopped dribbling the ball.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything,” he said, holding his hands up. I knew about him. He was like me, and guys like us did not get women like Frankie. We weren’t the type to give a woman anything other than a great round of sex, maybe two. We doled out more orgasms than a woman ever experienced and a shit ton of stories to tell her girlfriends. We weren’t cut out for anything more than that. And I knew Frankie didn’t go for wham bam thank you ma’am, even though she did own a sex club.

“I hope not. You know she’s off limits,” I said, checking the ball into his stomach, my pulse racing. She was like a sister to me. He doubled over, breath wheezing out. Oh shit. “Sorry man,” I said, patting him on the back. He shrugged out from under my hand and shot me a glare.

“What the fuck, man? What the hell is your problem? You think I’m going to touch Frankie? Like she’d let me anywhere near her. I’m not stupid, okay? Why are you being even more of an asshole than usual?”

I grabbed a seat on the bench and took a slug of water, and a deep breath.

“I have her digging to find out more about Beth’s death,” I said, staring out at the bleachers across the gym. The other games were wrapping up and people filed out of the gym.

“Why? It’s been almost three years. Why now?”

“Allan.” I braced myself for the onslaught.

“Fucking Allan?” Grim spit. “Are you serious? You’re making plans based on shit Allan’s telling you?”

“It’s not just based on what he said. She called me. She asked me for help. I was too late and then she was dead. I know she was in trouble. I know she was trying to leave. She needed money.” Another person I’d let down. Another person who died because I couldn’t get my head out of my ass. A shiver ran down my spine as I remembered the sinking feeling I had standing outside the bathroom door, water running. My sneakers squishing into the soaking wet carpet.

“Why would Beth need money? Thayer has more money than god.”

“He was practically keeping her prisoner. She needed help and by the time I got to her, she was dead.”

“Ever think that maybe he wasn’t giving her money because her little problem had resurfaced?” Grim shot me a knowing look.

“She was clean for a long time.”

“Oh, yeah and we all know once someone gets clean they never fall back into that trap,” he scoffed and packed up his stuff. I grabbed his arm. I let it all out then. I told him all about Thayer, my plan, my dad and my mom’s suicide. I hadn’t told anyone yet, so I figured it might as well be him.

“I’ll bring him down. Show everyone what a fraud he is. Without being on those boards, he won’t give away a cent. He won’t be able to. The only reason he’s done any of this is because he doesn’t get a penny without it.”

“What does it matter? If he’s giving away the money, why does it matter why he’s doing it?” he said, shrugging. He didn’t get it. No one got it. This mask he wore, this good guy shtick he had. It ended now.

“Because,” I said, gritting my teeth. “He gets to play the altruistic billionaire out there. He can pretend he’s not the selfish prick I know he really is.”

“Killian, what is it with you and him? I’ve never understood it. You were best friends back in high school, then next thing I knew, you were kicked out of school and hated him. What happened?”

“He’s the reason my mom is dead,” I said, balling up my fists. A shudder traveled through my body and my stomach dropped as I thought back to the worst morning of my life.

“What? How?” Grim’s shocked outburst echoed in the gym. He stared at me wide-eyed.

“If it weren’t for him, she’d still be alive.” I couldn’t go into it. A flash of that bathroom doorknob sliced through my mind. If it weren’t for him and me. Guilt stabbed me in the chest and I squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing my knuckles over the spot where the pain radiated from. I went along with his plans back then and it cost me dearly. Guilt soured my stomach. I wasn’t going to let him continue wrecking lives without consequences.

He was my best friend along with Frankie. I let out a sigh. I told him all about Beth, Allan, and what I thought had happened to her. She didn’t die like he said she did. When I finished everything up he blew out a long whistle.

“That’s a lot to be taking on, Kill. Are you sure about all this? Sure, it’s not going to put you in a bad place? I still don’t understand why you believe anything Allan has to say.”

I rubbed my hands over my face. Allan and Beth grew up on the same street I did growing up. The three of us were scholarship kids to Havert Prep. We’d gone through a lot of the same shit when we first got there. Now, Beth was dead, Allan was a recovering addict, and then there was me. I’d fallen in with the rich kids’ crowd, headed by Rhys Thayer, and I watched him destroy my friends one by one.

For a while I was cool with him. Hung with him. People gravitated to him. Saw him as this nice guy. But I saw another side of him. The side so greedy and unrelenting, he wouldn’t be happy until everyone else around him had nothing left. Rhys stole Beth from Allan and that destroyed him. Allan turned to drugs, then Beth fell into the same trap, but with all Rhys’s money to feed her addiction.

Then she died. An accident with sleeping pills or some bullshit like that, but I knew there was something else going on.

“I know he’s hiding the truth and I’m not going to give up until I figure out what it is,” I said, shoving my ball in my bag.

“Good luck, man, but don’t let yourself get mixed up in Allan’s shit again. You did that once before and it didn’t turn out so well for you,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Most of the other people had already cleared out. Grim headed out after them, while I sat and checked my phone, scrolling through my messages. When I glanced up, I noticed a flash of long black hair in the corner of my eye. It was a woman. She scrambled back when she saw me looking at her. Okay, now I was intrigued. She was watching me. She was familiar. I’d seen her before, but it took me a minute to place her.

She’d been at the foundation when I met with the chairman. In the waiting room, she stared up at me with her big doe eyes, nearly falling off her seat when I got into the elevator. And now she was here at my gym. That seemed like a bit too much of a coincidence for me. I sat for a little while longer, sliding closer to the edge of the bleachers to see if she’d peek around again. My patience was rewarded after a few minutes when she did and I stood only a couple of feet from her hiding spot.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice booming in the cavernous and now empty court. She squeaked and backed up.

“What? Me? I’m no one,” she said, taking a step back, her back banging against the wall beside the locker room door.

“I’m sure you’re someone, sweetheart. Who are you and why are you here?” I said, intrigued. I’d never been followed before. Well, not by a woman I hadn’t slept with. Those somehow found a way to hunt me down. But she was different. She was cute, kind of squirrelly. The black horn-rimmed glasses she wore brought out the chestnut in her eyes.

I looked her up and down. I had a feeling her prim and proper clothes covered a nice body, but that didn’t explain why she’d followed me. I’d seen her before and I racked my brain to remember where. It wasn’t just from the foundation. She’d flittered in and out of my vision before. On the peripheral, but as I struggled to place her, her watch caught my eye. It looked simple, but I knew for a fact that it cost more than most people made in a month. Why was she wearing it? Who was she? She certainly piqued my interest.

“I’m not following you,” she said, her throat working a mile a minute. Time to change tactics. I plastered on a smile. She relaxed a little. The death grip she had on her bag strap eased the tiniest amount, her fingers pinking back up a little. Delicate. Innocent. Let’s play.

“Okay. Let’s just say you weren’t following me. What are you doing here?”

She glanced around. I looked her up and down again, letting my gaze linger. She squirmed. “Not exactly gym attire.” Her shoulders immediately slouched and I actually felt kind of bad for her.

“I’m sorry. Mr. Thorne. I’m sorry, I interrupted you, but I’m here because I need some information from you,” she said, glancing up at me. If her eyes got any wider, I’d have to get her a tiny cartoon bunny and bird to perch on her shoulder. She reached into her bag and pulled out a notepad and a pen. Her hands shook as she put the pen to the page.

“I’m a reporter and I had a few questions. I wanted to know if I could ask you about your charitable contributions?”

“A reporter?” Not a chance. Her ability to lie was overshadowed by the fact that she couldn’t hold a pen and ask a question at the same time. Curiosity got the better of me. If she wasn’t a reporter, what was she doing here?

“Yes,” she said, nodding emphatically.

“With which paper?”

“Ugh…the…I’m freelance,” she stammered.

Right, time to make things a bit more interesting.