Page 58 of Graves & Griggs
“Whose knife killed the fucker?” I counter.
“Not yours. Your brother’s bullet did the job,” Griggs says back.
“Are we seriously still standing here talking? We need to get the fuck out of here!” Dom snarls like we’re the unreasonable ones here.
He leads the way, and Griggs and I quickly follow him out of the house. We make it across the lawn without being spotted and are up and over the gate before anyone can attempt to confront us—or more likely shoot us dead.
Dom starts the car, and we drive away just far enough to keep the house within viewing distance before I look down at the app Dom installed.
“See you in hell, fuckers.”
With a click of a button, a deafening boom rings out through the entire goddamn city. I swear, people one state over heard that shit. One more second passes before a secondary boom comes, and the house is engulfed in flames. There goes the gas main.
Flames rage, swallowing up the expansive mansion, licking at the perfectly manicured lawn and gardens around it, leaving nothing but ash and destruction in its wake. We all stare at the uncontrolled beauty of it, relishing in the satisfaction of a job done. The pleasure of knowing that the Four Horsemen have fallen, once and for all, is a greater feeling than I could put into words. Theworld is a better place, a safer place. Hell, if we signed our names on this act, I have no doubt we’d earn ourselves the Nobel Peace Prize. Or at least we should.
Sirens sound in the distance, and Dom takes that as his cue to put the car in drive. We head in the opposite direction as I tune the radio to the police scanner we’ve set up.
“Unit 224 inbound. Fire en route behind me. Oh… oh my God,” the gargled voice exclaims. “We need backup. As many rigs as we can get. The fire is moving to the neighboring properties!”
Whoops.
We stay tapped into the scanner until we begin to lose connection. That’s when Dom pulls over and we wait for those words we need. We all sit silently as hours tick by. The fire seems to be truly unmanageable, but finally at 2:13 AM, those blissful words hit all our ears.
“Several casualties… Fucking burned to a crisp.”
Burned to a crisp.
Music to my fucking ears.
Chapter Twenty Six
Vincent
The place went up in a blaze. Four bodies were extracted and were so charred, the causes of death couldn’t even be verified, meaning the fucker with the cracked neck in the cellar will be seen as just another casualty of the fire.
Of course, I’m sure they’ll be able to figure out that the fucking chunk of C4 left behind was used to start the fire, but the trail will go cold, the file will be sealed and that will be the end of it. After all, there isn’t exactly a line of people demanding justice for the ruthless mercenaries that have been terrorizing Europe and North America for the last two decades.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you,” Skyla says as she comes around the corner.
I push away from the desk, closing the laptop—and the news article on the mysterious fire—as I turn to my wife, spreading my legs as I gesture for her to come closer. She comes to me willingly, like our pull is inevitable. Or maybe that’s just how I view it to be.
Skyla climbs into my lap, nuzzling my neck as she speaks against my skin. “The kids were asking for you—they want to open presents.”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” I counter. “They shouldn’t be opening any presents until tomorrow.”
She pulls back far enough to roll her eyes at me before laughing. “You and I both know those kids are so spoiled, it would take them five business days to open all of their presents. They need to get a head start.”
I smirk at that. The guys did go overboard this year, as did I, though I can’t say it’s different than any other year or birthday. There’s no way they won’t grow up to be spoiled rotten, at least in some ways. Not when they have five dads willing to hand them the world at any given moment.
“Blake and the kids are going home tomorrow; her husbands too of course,” Skyla says.
I nod, though I don’t miss the hint of sadness that touches her words.
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
She shrugs. “I was kinda getting used to the company. It’s not like I don’t have other mom friends, but Maggie and Bridgette are usually busy and… I don’t know.”
Nodding, my thumbs rub gentle circles against her lower back. “You made a friend and now she’s leaving to go back to her life on the other side of the country.”
