They will remember who it is that sits at the center of the pyramid.
Taking out my phone, I dialed, and it barely rang before he answered. “Well, if it isn’t Wyatt Callahan. I’ve been meaning to call you.”
“But you didn’t,” I replied.
“It’s been—”
“Save your excuse. I couldn’t care less at the moment. Excuse me if I sound a little hostile. It’s been a very irritating morning…so I need you to call the chief and do something for me, McCoy. We’re not going to have a problem, will we?”
“As the commissioner’s duty is to help good citizens of Chicago, like yourself, I’m sure the chief would agree.”
“Beautiful.”
Now the war begins.
HELEN
I watched Wyatt walk down the hall, unable to forget the look in his eyes. He looked…like he did when his father died. Like some part of the machine in his mind had malfunctioned.
“Ethan?” I asked when I stepped inside his room. It was stupid to ignore Wyatt’s advice, especially after just seeing him, but I couldn’t walk away from them both. “Wyatt warned me not to come in here—”
“And yet you came anyway.” His voice was emotionless and low as he emerged from his closet dressed in dark jeans, a white shirt under his black leather jacket. Over his shoulder was a small duffle bag.
“Going somewhere?” I asked him.
“Vacation,” he replied, walking over to his bedside table.
“You don’t take vacations.”
“I do now.” He put his gun in the drawer, and took out his wallet. He checked inside for a moment before putting it in his back pocket.
No. This is good. He’s reacting normally. This is how normal people act when they’re hurt.
I nodded to myself and asked, “Do you need me to do anything for you?”
“You’re smart, Helen.”
I was confused by his words; they made me feel uneasy. I could only watch as he threw a picture frame into his bag before zipping it closed. As he walked toward me, the way he stared down at me made me feel small.
“W—what?”
“You are smart, which is why we have always worked well together. Be smart. Only stupid women die for men who don’t love them in return. Wyatt is going to disappoint you. Especially when he realizes what you’re really like…the real you,” he replied, walking around me and toward the door.
Just like that he was gone, and I realized why Wyatt’s hand was shaking…Ethan had mastered the art of gutting people with words.
WYATT
When faced with no other option, and unsure of what was right or wrong, all I could do was press on, ignoring the scrapes in my flesh, the aching in my feet, making a path where there was none.
I couldn’t remember where I heard that. Or who even said it. But it replayed in my mind as I waited in front of his door again. And when he stepped out, bag in hand, he glanced me over once before turning turn to walk to the elevator. Stepping in his way, his green eyes piercing into mine, I saw nothing.
I saw no anger, no rage. Nothing. He wasn’t there anymore. And once again I knew what I had to…I knew I’d have to do this alone. But he needed to at least know this.
“You leave, I will take over until you come back. Those who did this will kneel at your feet,” I told him. Silence greeted me. He just stared, no response. Hoping to get any reaction out of him, I said, “You can kill me after I do this for you, brother.”
He still didn’t react.
“Sir?”
I looked behind me toward the elevator. Greyson appeared, and upon seeing Ethan, he rushed forward like a five year old on Christmas morning. Greyson wasn’t just loyal. He was a fan. It was how I knew he’d spread anything I told him about Ethan.
“I came because—”
“Anything you need to say,” Ethan cut him off while walking toward the elevator, “say it to Wyatt. He’s in change now.”
“Yes, sir.” Greyson nodded, his eyebrows frowning together as he watched Ethan get on and say nothing else as the elevator doors closed.
He’s not going to do anything stupid. I reassured myself, and yet I still couldn’t but doubt…help but wonder…No. I wouldn’t. I needed to focus.
“What’s the plan?” Greyson asked, turning to face me.
He was so used to the hidden motive behind Ethan’s actions, it was only natural for his mind to go there. There was still a small part of me, a very small part of me, that wondered if maybe Ethan had some plan he wasn’t sharing, but who could have planned for this? The man I saw sitting in the closet…he was hurt…deeply. Certainly not that man.
And I was part of his pain. So I needed to be part of his joys, too.
I turned to Greyson, who stared back with the familiar mixture of doubt and annoyance I’d seen on the faces of many of our guards—as if to say who was I to tell them what to do. I was the Callahan who ran away. The prodigal son who’d done nothing for them. To me it felt like ages since I’d returned home…but in reality, it was only two weeks. And just like Ethan had said, I’d done nothing but worry about Dona during that time.
“Sir?” Greyson questioned, gaining my attention as Helen came out of Ethan’s room. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her jaw clenched at the sight of me. Before I could ask her what was wrong, what Ethan said, Greyson spoke up again.
“The plan?” he pressed on when our eyes met.
“The plan is do whatever the fuck I say.”
“You haven’t said anything,” he fired back again, showing me the difference between Ethan and I. Greyson wouldn’t dare to speak up in front of my brother.
“Get my fucking car.”
He nodded, making his
