Page 2 of Redemption

Seems to be the way things go with Carys lately—drama dogs us. Either she tells me something I don’t like, or we stare at each other, wishing we made different choices. When? Who knows? I’ve been making bad decisions since I crawled out of the womb.

The guard leads me back to the cell, and I catch a couple of guys giving me the once-over. Something is coming, but I don’t know what. I’m glad I didn’t make any promises to Carys about staying out of trouble. Until I’ve established my dominance, or someone kills me, there’s no peace in here. The last time I had to stay this alert was when I was fighting in The Cage. So much money rode on those fights, that at any moment, a rival might be looking for an advantage. A quick bout in the streets, a cheap round meant to keep me down, was a possibility wherever I went. Never worked—no one could pin me.

I’m twenty years older, but I’m also wiser. Threats are easier to spot now. The energy vibrates off a guy, as though he needs to psyche himself up. Most people telegraph what they’re going to do at least a split second before it happens. More than enough time to react. Step out of the way, hit first, or let them punch me because it’ll give me a better angle to hit back harder.

Thesomethingdoesn’t strike until we’re headed to our cells from the mess hall. We’re paused at the door to our unit, waiting for the guard to release the lock, the most volatile stage of the walk. My food hasn’t even had a chance to digest before the guy behind me hunches his shoulders and telegraphs his move. I may not be able to see him, but instinct kicks in.

He takes a step and swings, and I duck. His knuckles skim the guy’s neck in front of me. I spin and pummel the hulking man.One. Two. Three. Each uppercut is aimed at nailing his liver. Steal his breath. Sharp, shooting pains should be migrating across his frame. When he cries out and sinks to his knees, I step back. Those rubber legs coming off the liver punch are a bitch. Done right, no one walks away from that body shot.

Once he’s moaning on the ground, I throw out my hands and stare at the rest of the block in my line. “Anyone else?”

“All right, Donaghey,” the guard says without a trace of humor. “Back to your cell.”

He doesn’t meanmycell. Another guard will be coming to take me to isolation. I might have gotten away with a self-defense claim or at least having the guard ignore the quick scuffle if my cockiness hadn’t spilled out. The prison calls the question I askedinciting violence. I call it taking care of business.

Later, when the door to my solitary confinement slams closed and the lock clicks into place, I sink into the mattress and run my hand along the top of my short platinum strands. Perhaps Carys had a point about my inability to stay out of trouble.

Chapter Two

Carys

Idrawthedoorclosed on the bedroom. Lucas is napping, and I head for the living room. Sofia is out with her girls and Lena at a friend’s pool party, so the house is quiet. They’ve settled into the Cape Verde community, and Jay wants them away from here when our guest comes later. The less any of his family understand regarding our plans, the better. His wife gets why he’s so driven to help me—she realizes the type of man she married. His loyalty runs deep.

From the office, Jay emerges. “You’re not going to like this.” He tucks his phone into his pocket.

“What else is new? The casino, the hotel, or Finn?” Nothing is going smoothly. The confetti bomb in my Chicago office might as well have been real. Every aspect of my life is in pieces. Every time we think we’ve found a way to slot them together, a piece ends up being a slightly different shape than we expected.

“Finn. My contacts tell me he’s already in solitary.”

I snort. “Of course, he is.” At least he’s not in the infirmary. Whenever Jay briefs me on Finn’s fights, I fear he’ll end up dead or so injured he’ll never recover. Finn is a very capable fighter, but the danger never seems to stop. He’s not getting any younger. “He’s not happy we’re trying to break him out.”

Jay’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Please tell me you weren’t talking about a jailbreak at visitation.”

“Not exactly,” I hedge. There is a chance we might have raised suspicion. As soon as Finn became annoyed, I wasn’t as careful. Not bright. He needed a heads-up for the move and to try to make our job easier.

“Carys.” His tone is full of warning. “You want him out, I do, too, but we gotta be smart about this. He doesn’t need to be told shit until it’s happening. Even then, the less he knows, the better.”

I tip my chin in defiance. “You’re not there. You don’t see him with a new bruise every single time. He’s not a twenty-year-old punk fighting in The Cage with his dad’s mafia empire at his back. I don’t—I don’t want anything bad to happen. I needed him to understand we’re not sitting around doing nothing.”

Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. “Now he knows. You never bring up our plans again. If there’s something vital he has to know, I’ve got ways to get that information to him.”

“Fine.” I slouch into the couch to watch the ocean from the large picture windows facing the water. “When is Evander arriving?”

“Should be here in ten. Dominic said the plane landed a while ago.” He wanders to the couches and takes in the view. We sit in silence for a few moments. “Best part of living here is this.”

“I enjoy watching your kids out there in the sand, playing in the waves.”

“Yeah, they’re adjusting well.” He half turns. “Sofia’s made some friends. If we could just get Finn out and make our business investments line up, we’d be golden.”

“We’ll get there.” I say it with more conviction than I feel. Can we get Finn out? Will all the problems with the casino and hotel come to a stop?

There’s a knock at the door, and Jay goes to the entry with a hand on his gun. Though we’ve been safe here so far, we’re still on edge about the package delivered to my office. The “time’s up” message could be linked to the switchover of company control from me to my father, or the note might have been in regard to the FBI raid, or the point could be something we haven’t figured out yet. We haven’t let our guard down. Security isn’t extravagant, but we’re not taking chances. No one leaves the house without at least one guard.

I rise from the couch when Jay opens the door. Evander Williams is a tall, bulky Black man who has earned his reputation in certain underground circles. An air of confidence wafts in behind him.

I come forward, and my hand is outstretched. “Mr. Williams, I’m Carys Van de Berg.”

His palm slides against mine, and his dark gaze searches my face. “My condolences on your asshole father. Based on what I was able to access, he should have been the person to step up for a plea deal.” His lips twist. “Not that Finn Donaghey isn’t quite a catch for the FBI and CIA. I see why they didn’t hesitate on that exchange.”

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