What Lies Within (44 page)

“Your sister, that is. We didn’t shoot her.”

Kyla folded her arms over her chest and jutted her chin out. How stupid did this thug think she was. “Oh, please.”

King’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You callin’ me a liar?”

Her arms fell to her sides and she stepped toward him. “I’m calling you a ruthless thug who will do whatever it takes to get what you want. You didn’t do it. How stupid do you think I am?”

Steel settled in those eyes. “Don’t know.” His gaze swept her. Insolent. Disdainful. “Depends on whether you take another step or not.”

Rafael stepped in, one hand halting Kyla before she could follow her impulse to put her face right in King’s. “No.”

She glared at him, but he just gripped her arm tighter. “Like you said, you came here to talk. Now can you do that or not?”

Kyla put her hand over his. “I can do it.”
God, help me do it. Stop the fear, Lord. Stop the anger. Give me Your words, because mine are just messing everything up
.

As she turned back to King, the truth of that hit her. Every time she opened her heart—and mouth—to fear, destruction followed.

King K sat back down, eyes wary. “You listen close, Builder Lady. The 22s don’t play no games.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Listen!” His finger jabbed at her, adding emphasis to the word. “If we came to your crib, you’d
know
it. Everyone would.”

“You mean because of the graffiti.”

He waved her words away. “Naw, man, you don’ get it. I mean ’cuz you’d be done.”

Horrific words, and not just because of the meaning. The relaxed, offhanded way he spoke them was far more terrifying. As though killing meant nothing.

“Are you trying to scare me?”

He jabbed his hands in front of him. “See? You ain’t listenin’!
We. Don’t. Play. Games
. If I wanted you scared, you’d be there. No need to ask. If we come to your door, we don’t leave you standing. And we sure don’t let no
kitty-cat
scare us off.”

Wait a minute. How did they know about Serendipity if they weren’t the ones who …

She looked over her shoulder at Tarik. He shrugged. “Hey, it was a great story. So I told a few folks.”

Kyla sat back down on the couch, and this time when she turned to face King K, it wasn’t so unnerving. “If it wasn’t any of you, then who on earth was it?”

The gang leader pulled a toothpick from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth, chomping down on it. “Don’t know. But we fo’ shizzle gonna find out.”

Now
she
narrowed her gaze. “Why? What do you care?”

“I don’t. About you. But whoever tagged your crib, tried to make it look like it was us. I’m bettin’ they the same ones shot at L’il Man.” Death glinted in those hard eyes. “And they gonna pay.”

Murmurs sounded all around them, and Kyla didn’t doubt what he said was true.

“Your sister. She gonna make it?”

Emotion flooded Kyla’s throat, closing it off for a moment. She forced ragged words free. “She’ll be fine. Thank God.”

“She saved L’il Man. Don’t think I don’t know it. That’s why I tol’ Rafe—and why I’m tellin’ you now—what your sister did? For that, you and the 22s, we done.”

Kyla folded her hands in her lap. Never would she have imagined sitting here, talking to this man, in this place. And not being terrified. “Done?”

Rafael stepped forward. “He’s saying you can finish the job on the church and the Brotherhood won’t cause any more trouble.”

“Tha’s what I said, man. We done. Out of it. Them that want to stop this thing with the church, they on their own. We don’t stop them, we don’t stop you.”

Kyla risked looking at the gang members gathered around. Watching. Listening. “Are you saying the others in your gang will just stop? They’ll leave us alone?”

He stiffened, his jaw going tight. “They do what I say.”

“And if those others you mentioned, who want to ‘stop this thing,’ if they’re the ones that shot at your brother?”

Kyla always thought of anger, hatred as heated emotions. White hot. But now, looking into those eyes, she knew different.

Rage was ice-cold.

“Then they die.”

FIFTY-FOUR   

W
hy didn’t this neighborhood just accept the inevitable and die?

Ballat hated coming here. As soon as the church was his, he was selling it. Already had the buyers lined up. Soon, every last trace of the place would be gone.

Shoving the door of his Jaguar open, Ballat stepped outside. Two hulking brutes met him, eying the car.

“Watch it.”

They didn’t react to his command, but he didn’t care. So long as they obeyed. And obey they would, because they knew King was Ballat’s man.

At least until this ugly business was over. Then, the gang was gone. Ballat had that arranged too.

Smiling, he reached to push open the door, only to have it pulled from his hand. King K stood there, looking decidedly unfriendly.

“King.” Ballat didn’t let his surprise show. No point chumming the waters. These sharks were too ready to attack, even on a good day. “You
called?” A fact that still stuck in his craw. That this uneducated lackey would call and demand
he
come down here.

“You gone far enough.” King’s words were curt. “Jus’ wanted to tell you to your face. We not your boys no more.”

“Not my …” What was he talking about?

“The church, man. We out of it.”

Anger stirred, but Ballat kept it from his features. “Is that so?”

King leaned against the doorjamb. “Yeah. That’s so. So you know now. Get offa our turf while you still can.”

Ballat didn’t understand what was behind this turnabout, but that didn’t matter. The threat in the gang leader’s tone was clear as day. Without another word, he turned and walked back to his car.

He drove away without looking back. This was unexpected, yes, but not insurmountable. In fact … Ballat reached under the passenger’s seat and pulled out a city map. Yes, there it was. Three blocks over.

So the Blood Brotherhood were out of it, were they? Ballat fingered the map.

He was about to show that upstart King K just how wrong he was.

FIFTY-FIVE   

T
his was wrong.

Mason’s arm around her shoulders as they looked over the schedules and details of the finishing work. His head close to hers as they discussed potential issues and progress. His proprietary air whenever someone came into the office where they stood together.

Nothing unusual. All things she’d allowed from Mason in the past six months. So why now did it all feel so …

Uncomfortable?

Kyla eased away from his arm, schooling her features to nonchalance as she pulled a folder from the filing cabinet. When she turned back, Mason’s wry eyes were on her.

“It’s finished, isn’t it?”

She smiled. “Almost. I still can’t believe it looks as though we’ll make the deadline.” She came back to the desk, opened the file, spread out the papers
they needed to review, and bent over them. “I never could have done it without you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Kyla straightened. Mason held his hand out to her, and after a brief hesitation, she placed her hand inside it. His fingers closed over hers.

“I mean us. We’re finished.” His eyes searched her face. “Aren’t we.”

No surprise in the words. No censure or anger. Just a simple statement of fact. Kyla looked down at their joined hands.

“Mason, I …” She felt a moment’s squeezing hurt, regret for what could have been. She lifted her eyes to his. “Yes. I’m sorry, Mason, but yes.”

He studied her a moment longer, then lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “I will always love you, Kyla. In my own way.”

“How touching.”

Kyla jerked her hand from Mason’s and spun to face the doorway. Sam Ballat stood there, wry humor on those sardonic features. What was
he
doing here? “I’ve just come to look over my property.”

Surprise arched her brows, and her fingers itched to slap the smugness from his smile.

“I’m sorry I interrupted such a tender moment between you and your knight in shining armor.”

Her cheeks burned at what this man had seen and heard.

“What do you want, Ballat?”

His features tightened as he turned his attention to Mason. “Why, Mr. Rawlins, how inhospitable of you.”

He
tsked
, the sound utterly condescending. Why on earth was he here?

“You’ve never been so rude to me before, Rawlins. Not in all our years of working together.”

Kyla snorted. “Mason, work with you?”

Ballat’s tone turned unpleasant. “Oh, indeed, working with me. As recently as this last week.” He cast a glance around the office, then out toward the new gym. “On this very project.”

This was absurd! She turned to Mason, sure he was about to blast the man right out the door—and stilled. Mason was staring down at the desk, face crimson.

No. It couldn’t be.

“But not to worry, Miss Justice.” Ballat patted her arm, and she jerked back as if from a scorpion. “Your beau and I won’t be working together any longer. You see, whatever I need, he delivered. But I’m afraid that didn’t happen this time.”

She wanted to scream at him to shut up. To get out and take his vile insinuations with him. But her voice was trapped in a too-tight chest.

“Ballat, you’ve said enough.”

The man ignored Mason’s hoarse assertion. He just stepped back. “No, indeed. He didn’t deliver at all. And all I needed him to do—”

That cold gaze fixed itself to her, and despite her best efforts, Kyla shivered. It was like locking eyes with evil.

“—was stop you.” He tipped his head, mock disappointment hissing out on a sigh. “You were too much for him.”

He walked back toward the door. “I just wanted to drop in and offer my
sincerest
congratulations on completing the work. It’s a lovely building.” In the doorway, he hesitated, tossing one last baleful glance at them. “Oh, and be assured, I’m praying for you all.”

“
Praying
for us?”

If the man’s smile got any slimier, it would slip right off his face. “That nothing happens between today and tomorrow. That
is
your final deadline, is it not? Tomorrow, end of the day?”

“You know it is.”

The smile faltered at her frosty tone, but only for a moment. “Indeed. I do.”

Kyla stared after Ballat’s retreating form. It was either that, or face the man she’d believed a friend.

And now knew to be a traitor.

Pieces suddenly fell into place. What had Fredrik said? It was as though those working against them knew what they were planning, even the minutest details of their schedules. As if they had access even to their orders, so they could transpose numbers.

Mason had all that and more. Because Kyla gave it to him.

Ice spread through her veins. It was her fault. All the delays. The church property almost being lost.

All her fault.

“Kyla—”

She turned, offering the same frosty tone she’d used with Ballat. “Am I correct that your crew is finished with their work?”

He stiffened. “All that’s left is the final detailing.”

“Which my guys can handle just fine.”