Page 44 of Empire

With that, I push out from the table and stride past them, my world burning to ashes around me.

Chapter 18

SAWYER

Thebasketballfliesthroughthe air, swiftly dropping into the basket. Dalton takes off after it, catching it on the rebound before heading back up the court. The fucker should have been in the NBA. He had the contract right there. All he had to do was sign, but apparently punishing himself is more important than securing his future.

I watch him move up and down the court, the rhythmic sound of the ball calming something inside me. After telling Oakley what she thinks she needs to know, she took off to Zade’s spare room, needing some time to wrap her head around everything. Both Dalton and I have tried checking in on her, but it’s something she’s going to have to accept on her own.

I sit beside Cross on the rooftop court as Zade stands, arms crossed over his chest as he peers out at the city below, deep in thought. This past few weeks have been one big cluster fuck. We knew there was a possibility that Oakley’s name would get out eventually and that someone would try to end her life before the night of the sixtieth moon, but there’s no way we could have foreseen just how intense this was going to be.

Oakley fights us at every turn, though it’s expected after the way things have been handled. She despises us, and I can’t fucking blame her. People outside our world don’t understand it. When they see a gun, they shit their pants. But for us, kidnapping, betrayal, and injustices are just a part of life.

Zade lets out a sigh as Dalton launches himself into the air, dunking the ball through the hoop. He swings off it before dropping back to the ground, letting the ball bounce away. “She’s getting too close,” Zade says, still staring out at the city. “This isn’t how any of this was supposed to play out.”

Don’t I fucking know it.

“We couldn’t anticipate how any of this has played out,” Dalton says, striding back to us and grabbing his water bottle. “We’re doing what we can, but—”

“No, you’re doing what you can to get your dick wet,” Zade snaps, turning back to us. “All three of you. This isn’t a fucking whore house. There are plenty of bitches around here. You wanna fuck, find one of them. Getting involved with this girl . . . It’s going to blow up in our faces. You’re not thinking about the bigger picture.”

Cross stands and narrows his gaze on Zade, not liking his decisions questioned. Cross doesn’t do anything lightly, not even the girls he fucks. Every little thing he does is thoroughly planned and executed to perfection. “That’s not what this is really about,” Cross states, watching Zade with a thick curiosity. “You couldn’t give a shit if we fucked her so hard she split in half. All that matters is that she’s right there where you need her to be on the night of the sacrifice.”

Zade clenches his jaw, and I see that Cross is right. Zade isn’t always easy to read, but right now, it’s as though he’s written it across his face in permanent marker. “It’s getting out of control,” he admits. “I don’t have a fucking handle on this. Every step we take feels like I’m scrambling just to keep everything together. The hitman at her apartment and then the ball. What next? We’ve got nothing but a fucking doorman.”

I nod, agreeing with him. “Whoever is behind this knows what they’re doing, but are we sure they’re related?” I question. “The hit at her apartment was obvious. There was the warning card and a simple hitman through her window. The person behind that is small-minded, wanting a quick outcome. But inviting her to that ball where her murder would be witnessed by the whole organization? That’s a calculated move with the purpose of making you appear weak.”

Zade’s brows pinch together, his hand dragging down his face. “You think these are two separate incidents? That we’re looking for two people?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I’m saying it’s a possibility we shouldn’t write off. It’s entirely possible that both hits were ordered by the same person. The first had the purpose of being quick and easy, it was done with respect to Empire in mind. They followed the traditions of giving a warning, but the ball? There were no traditions followed, no respect for who we are. They were willing to take a shot in the middle of an event, where members’ families were in attendance, their lives put at risk. What if he’d taken the shot and missed? Or if he succeeded and put a bullet between her eyes in front of the eyes of our young? All hell would have broken loose.”

Zade drops down on the bench, bracing his elbows against his knees, clearly frustrated. “We’re going to lose her. She’s slipping through our fingers and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

Dalton shakes his head. “We’re not losing her,” he says. “We’ve told her what she needs to know, and that’s enough for now. She’s aware someone is trying to kill her, and unless she has a death wish, she’ll stick to us like glue. We’ll know when someone’s coming.”

Zade glances up at Dalton and scoffs. “Even if I kept her locked in the fucking cell for the next month, it still doesn’t help me figure out who the fuck is behind this or which one of The Circle betrayed her name.”

“We’re not locking her in a fucking cell for a month,” Cross mutters, almost seeming disinterested in the conversation. “But have you considered that perhaps we’re looking at this all wrong?”

“What do you mean?” I question.

Cross lets out a heavy breath. “We’ve been taking the fight to Empire, questioning members and talking to The Circle, but it’s getting us nowhere,” he says. “They want Oakley dead, and something tells me her name wasn’t randomly selected. We need to take this to her. Figure out why she was chosen as the sacrifice.”

“We tried that,” Dalton says. “She doesn’t know anything.”

“I know,” Cross continues. “But if we dig into her background, we might just find the link, and who knows, that link might just offer us the answer we’re looking for.”

“It’s worth a try,” I say. “I’ll get my guy on it.”

“No,” Zade says, holding his hand up. “We do it ourselves. If she’s got the attention of The Circle, then whatever links her back to us is big. We can’t risk it getting out.”

“Can’t risk what getting out?” Oakley’s fiery tone rings out over the rooftop. We all glance back at her, our conversation dying quicker than it started. Oakley strides toward us and lets out a sigh. “Oh, I see. Discussing my imminent death I suppose.”

Guilt tears at my chest. It’s one thing to have to sacrifice her, but having to do it after getting the slightest window into who she is . . . man, it’s going to suck.

Zade was right to warn us away from her. We can’t afford to be making attachments. She’s barely been here two weeks and already Dalton is in too deep. He won’t physically admit it, but I see it in the way he looks at her. He’s infatuated. He thinks he’s just having fun with her, thinks he can handle it, but the day Zade carves her still-beating heart out of her chest will be the day something dies inside of him.

Despite how much it might suck for Dalton, having her hating on him right now might just be what’s best for him. Oakley doesn’t trust him, and nor should she. She shouldn’t trust a damn one of us. If she knew why we were protecting her . . . damn, this whole thing would blow up in our faces. All that matters is while she’s busy pushing him away, he’s being saved from getting too attached.

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