The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,74

sharp breath, but I don’t look at her. Even though I suspected it, hearing Gregory’s careless confession tears through my gut. Owen’s killer is on the other line, and if I could strangle him through this phone right now, I would.

I clamp down my guilt and rage to remain focused on every word he says.

“Did you know our girl was supposed to be in the car with your brother that night?” he asks, his voice soft and malevolent like poisoned butter. “God, I was this close to completely decimating you. I know how you feel about that piece of ass. It was all over your face when you shot my brother.”

He draws a shallow breath before going on. “When I’m done with you, you’ll know how this feels. Mama’s gone. Jackson’s gone. What do I have left to lose? You thought this wasn’t a game, but it totally is. And I’ll win. By the way, I get bonus points for the girl.”

And he disconnects.

Controlling my movements, I lay the phone down on the table and lean my elbows on my knees. For Nix’s sake, I’m trying to keep my shit together when all I want to do is flip furniture and burn the hotel to the ground.

“You did good,” Grim says, narrowing his eyes on a small screen. “We got him, but he knew we would. He’s at JFK. Probably already tossed that phone and boarding a plane. At least we can start piecing some possibilities together.”

“Uh-huh.” I steeple my fingers and clench my teeth.

“What are you gonna do about the fact that he wants to kill Maxim?” Lennix asks. I look at her for the first time, and all the rage and emotion I’m holding back, burns in her stare. “That son of a bitch. Did you hear him? He wants to kill Maxim, and you’re what?” She gestures toward the table where the equipment is laid out. “Fiddling with your little toys? He’s at JFK. Go get his ass. Take him out. We have to kill him first.”

Grim and I stare at her in silence. I’m unsure how to respond. Grim’s hard mouth lifts on that one side. “I like this one. For your information, Rambo, I have operatives in several high-risk locations, one of which is New York. They were listening in and have already dispatched to JFK, though we know it will most likely be too late. A guy like this doesn’t play into your hands. He’s already three steps ahead. You just have to take what he gives you and keep looking on your own until he trips up and you get him. Maxim’s safe.”

He glances at me while he puts away the rest of his equipment. “I’m guessing he’s more concerned about you.”

“You can put security on me,” she says, looking at me across the table. “I’ll wear the tracker. I’ll be fine.”

Owen should have been fine. Every aspect of his event was heavily vetted, and the details planned weeks in advance. All of the facility staff had been cleared. We’re still sorting out how Gregory penetrated the security to plant that bomb. There was one guy, a valet, who had called in sick at the last minute. We’re digging into that and hopefully should have an answer soon.

The police and the FBI are working on Owen’s case, and we’ll have to share some of this with them. I trust very few people right now, so I don’t want to widen the circle beyond those we know can be trusted.

“I have an idea,” Grim says. “But I’m not sure either of you will go for it.”

Lennix crosses over and sits beside me, taking my hand.

“What’s the idea?” I ask.

“Wyoming,” Grim says simply. “Think about it.”

I have a place in Wyoming. Completely isolated, well-guarded. Lennix would be safe, but I’m not completely sold.

“I’m not afraid of that bastard,” I say harshly. “I’m not running away from him.”

“It’s not just the safety,” Grim argues. “You both have been through a lot these last few months. Costa Rica, and all you witnessed there, Lennix. Now, Owen and the emotional toll it’s taking. King, you can work from anywhere, and it won’t hurt you to slow down for a few weeks. It’ll also give us some time to track this son of a bitch.”

“I’m in between campaigns,” Lennix says, biting her bottom lip and wiping a tear at the corner of her eye. “Now that Owen . . .” She draws a shaky breath. “I guess I’m saying