you make good on the candy, if it’s truly as mind-blowing as they say...you guys can join in. I know keeping a low profile is probably your jam—I’m not in your business—but if you don’t mind doing lines off the tits of the most expensive stripper in the country, we can—”
Clay doesn’t answer, not with words.
He raises his gun in the air and fires several times, thoroughly done with my shit.
I hold my breath, waiting for total chaos.
By some miracle, Grady holds his fire, probably begging me to give him the signal.
Not yet.
Because I just saw several men dressed in black tactical gear creeping around the storage shed, and Faulk himself dropping down behind their vehicles. He’s probably planting trackers in case they make a run for it.
“Enough of this fucking nonsense!” Grendal barks, hot fury smoldering in his eyes.
He whips his attention back to Grace, but before he can say anything, I walk toward her, careful to keep a healthy distance while their guns follow me.
“Baby, you know these guys? I thought...you told me that ugly weasel-rat from the bar was a fluke. Some idiot who wanted in your pants and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
A knowing glimmer lights up her eyes.
She’s still confused, sure, but she remembers what I told her, what I asked her to do, back in the house.
Pretend for me one more time.
“Grace?” Grendal eyes her up and down. “Is that true? You didn’t tell this jackass about us?”
She makes a soft, choked sound.
“There was nothing much to tell,” she says, stepping closer. “I’m done with what happened back home, Clay. Just give him what he ordered and let it go...he’s paying you a fortune.”
For a second, I can see the maniac torn.
Unsure whether to forfeit the biggest payment of his life for his trash drugs, all for this angel who still has him climbing the walls in his own fucked up head.
He’ll never have her.
But I need a damn diversion. Some way to get them in the barn so I can deliver the kill shot.
“You’re not cute, girl,” he growls. “Did you tell him about your other boyfriends? The one in high school who took you to your senior prom? The one whose mother made him break up with you after she found a dead rat stuffed in her mailbox with a Post-It wrapped around its tail? Or the one in college who suddenly decided he needed to go to a new school in another state? I told that twit I’d feed him his own balls.”
Shit, she’s turning pale.
I only see red.
This bastard has been warping every part of her life, even new ones she never knew about.
“That’s right. All me. Do you have any—any damn clue—just how long I’ve waited for this?” He turns back to me, hot death in his gaze. “If there’s any reason left in your drug-addled brain, you’ll listen, Hollywood, and listen good.”
I stare him down, relieved that I can finally let the hatred boiling me alive pour out.
“You’ve put me in quite the fucking pickle. See, I don’t want to give her up...but I would very, very much like my eight million dollars,” Grendal snaps. “I could just try to kill you and take it...but you’re too high-profile to sweep under the rug. Such a shame. Gracie, your little engagement here was exactly what I needed. Imagine my surprise when I learned you’d convinced him to go along with my media leak, living with this washed-up idiot...it should’ve ended there. But you’ve always been a selfish bitch, haven’t you? Now, you’ve put Hollywood in real danger.”
I see how he looks at her.
It makes me want to rip his throat out with my teeth.
He’s trying to push our buttons, though, so I might as well play along.
“Whoa, wait, it was you? Asshole, I’m taking a break from L.A.! Your dumb-ass stunt could’ve trashed my whole career.” I turn to Grace, my eyes on fire. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why’d you have to go and sweep it all—”
His deep, cruel laugh cuts me off. The sicko sounds truly pleased this time.
“Do you even want to marry her?” he asks softly. “I think I see what this is really all about. You invited everyone here, all your friends, promising them some candy to get back in their good graces. Well, Hollywood, I’m your candy man.” He winks at me.
I stop my hands from balling into fists and act shocked, stunned, confused.
“I just...stop fucking around. Show me the goods. We’ll