Rise of the Notorious (31 page)

“I know what you mean.” Linc scowled, crossing his arms as he chewed over this new information. “Why the hell would anyone try and get you killed?”

“The only thing I can come up with is that this was an attempt to hurt Madison. Whoever is doing this is picking off the people she cares about.”

Linc’s eyes narrowed. “So by that logic, I should be next.”

“I’m afraid that none of us are safe until this person is arrested.” Grant’s gaze hardened as his temper smoldered. “Our family is being threatened in a much more dangerous way, now. This goes beyond petty accusations and lies. This is life and death.”

“And Kennedy is still out there somewhere,” Linc said, his hands diving into his hair restlessly. “Damnit, what the hell are we going to do?”

“Take every precaution,” Grant suggested, stiffening. “We do what we have to do to protect what’s ours.”

Linc nodded as he considered all the angles. “Lynette’s at risk, too. I have to protect her.”

“In all likelihood, she’s not a target,” Grant began, only to be cut off as Linc rounded on him.

“Doesn’t matter. Don’t lie to me and say you’re not worried for Quinn’s safety after this. Everyone close to us is at risk.”

Grant’s face tensed, grief flashing in his eyes. “Then do whatever you have to do. In the meantime, I have to tell Mads.”

“What about what Cy said last night? Are you going to tell her about that, too?” Linc asked. “As much as I don’t want to believe the jackass, at this point I don’t want to take any chances, either.”

“I’m going to let the police talk with Duke first. I don’t know how Mads will react if she gets it in her head that he’s responsible.” Grant rubbed at the bridge of his nose tiredly. “I don’t even want to think about what she’ll say when she hears about the car.”

Lynette stepped out of Quinn’s room and walked toward Linc with a polite smile. “I have to get to rehearsal. You ready to go?”

Linc’s face twisted with a multitude of emotions as he yanked her against him, holding her close. She clung to him, sending a startled look to Grant over Linc’s shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” she stammered, eyes wide as Linc pulled away.

“We’re moving in together. Your place or mine?” he asked suddenly.

She blinked, brows furrowing. “Um. Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“You’re in danger. I’m in danger. We’re all in fucking danger. You’re not leaving my side and that’s that,” Linc decided, his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll repeat my question. Your place or mine?”

She chewed nervously on her bottom lip, indecision and confusion sweeping over her. “I guess my place…”

“Good. After I drop you off at rehearsal, I’ll bring over my things.” Linc turned to his brother, eyes dark and intense. “Take care of yourself, buddy.”

Grant nodded as Linc led Lynette away, explaining the car situation to her as they went. When they disappeared around the corner, Grant exhaled slowly, fighting to regain his composure. He hadn’t yet told Quinn about the brakes, but knew she’d be extremely unhappy if he kept it from her much longer.

As much as he didn’t want to frighten her, she had a right to know the truth.

Deciding he was going to tell her, he started to head back into the room. He paused as he heard loud voices coming from down the hall, where Linc and Lynette had just disappeared. His eyes narrowed as the voices got closer, then widened when he saw the big crowd of dark haired people round the corner, all chatting and arguing and laughing together.

Before he could find a place to hide, the older woman leading the pack spotted him.

“Oh my God, that’s
him
.” She gasped, a smile identical to Quinn’s bursting over her face. She was a short, curvy woman, her body draped in a dress the color of sage to set off the hazel of her eyes. Her wild curls of ebony hair framed her face, the mass of it clipped back behind her head.

The others all froze, their eyes on him as he stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. He had barely managed to blink before the crowd was upon him, shaking his hand and hugging him and patting him on the back. They were all much shorter than he was, so he towered over all of them like a giant among little people.

“You look just like the pictures in the papers,” Quinn’s mother was saying, beaming up at him fondly. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you. My name is Clara.”

“Do you really have a stick up your butt?” a young boy of about ten asked loudly, earning a fierce glare from his mother.

“Nico! What did I say about repeating your sister’s words?”

Grant frowned. “Quinn said that?”

“You look like you don’t eat enough,
mio caro
,” the man Grant assumed to be Quinn’s father griped, eyeing him with one sculpted eyebrow cocked disapprovingly. He was a slender man with a sharply honed face, high cheekbones and rough, olive skin. Dark beady eyes stared up at Grant from under heavy brows, and he watched curiously as the man’s animated mouth twisted into a smile. “My daughter couldn’t like you all that much if she’s not feeding you.”

Before Grant could think of a response, Quinn’s mother jumped in. “David, don’t be sassy. We didn’t come all this way so you could be rude.”

“I wasn’t rude,” the man corrected her sharply, though there was obvious affection in his tone as he continued to watch Grant closely. “I was simply making an observation about the man who’s been courting my baby.”

“Is it true that you own all the hotels in the whole wide world?” another little boy asked, pulling impatiently at Grant’s sleeve.

Grant looked down at him, taken aback. Unsure what to say, he settled with a simple, “No.”

Suddenly, the door to their left opened and Quinn appeared, standing in her light blue nightgown with a bright grin on her face.

“I should have known it was
my
family making all the ruckus in the hallway.” She laughed, winking at Grant. “And there’s my poor boyfriend, being assaulted by the clucking hens.”

“Fiancé,” Grant corrected her, only to realize what he had done the moment her entire family went silent.

Quinn blushed and covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes twinkling as she watched his words register in her mother’s eyes. When Clara turned to face her, there were tears in them.

“
Dio
,” she whispered, suddenly launching herself on her daughter and hugging her tightly.

Quinn winced from the sharp pain. “Ah, Ma, my ribs…”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” Clara backed away, her hands fluttering over Quinn’s face as a tear fell down her cheek. “My baby…getting married.”

Quinn’s father shot a look up at Grant, silently assessing the situation. Grant winced, realizing he hadn’t even thought to get her father’s approval. Then again, there hadn’t been much thought to his proposal in the first place.

Clara noticed her husband’s face and turned on him. “David, be happy for your daughter. A good man wants to marry her, a man with a good job and money and the means to provide for her.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes still on Grant.

“Daddy…” Quinn’s eyes were shining as she stepped past her mother to her father, extending her arms to him. “It was all very sudden; I don’t even have a ring yet.”

“No
ring
?” one of Quinn’s sisters cried, causing lots of feminine glares of suspicion to be sent Grant’s way. He debated backing away, feeling more than a little outnumbered.

Quinn shot a disparaging look at her sisters before turning back to her father. “You should be happy to get me out of your hair once and for all,” she joked, smiling at him.

His lips quirked up at her statement, and his eyes warmed. “You are always welcome in my hair.” He hugged her close, then held his hand out to Grant. “Welcome to the family, Grant Vasser. I hope we don’t scare you away.”

Grant managed a half smile as he accepted the handshake. “I should say the same to you.”

“Yes, we’ve heard all about your family,” David replied, eyebrows raised. “I expect you to do all that you can to see that this filth does not touch my daughter.”

Grant immediately thought of the brakes of his car, and the guilt crept back into his system like a slithering black snake. His head dipped in a respectful nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Alright, my ankle hurts,” Quinn announced, eyeing her family with a knowing look. “Anyone wants to talk to me, I’ll be in bed.”

The entire family burst into conversation once again and shuffled into the room, leaving Grant standing in the hallway, burdened with dark shame.

R
eturning to the hospital for the first time since her grandfather’s suicide was like shoving a knife into her chest and tearing out her bleeding heart, then tossing it onto gravel and stepping on it with the spike of her favorite red stilettos.

It hurt more than she cared to admit or even acknowledge. This place held memories for her, of times long past when she had come to him for guidance, for strength. It was in this haunted, disturbing place that he had left his final words to her: a letter of goodbye, and one of commands.

But it seemed so long ago to her now, so out of reach and surreal. She still possessed the letter, still intended to follow through on the commands. Yet each step she took seemed to send her further and further into this hell that was now becoming her reality, its depths violently perilous and destructive.

Her choices had gotten her sister taken. Her pride had gotten her brother’s lover nearly killed.

Since when had doing business in this world become so treacherous?

When Grant had told her that afternoon about the sabotage of his car, her immediate reaction had been acceptance. Not denial, not disbelief, not even outrage. No, she had understood at that moment that she should have expected something like this. In fact, perhaps she had.

She had just been expecting it to happen to her, not her family.

Soon after the acceptance had come the fury. The fear. The anguish. Nothing Grant said would convince her that this wasn’t about her, that this wasn’t her fault. Whoever had kidnapped their little sister had done so because of her. What made this situation any different?

Perhaps what hurt her the most was the realization that the hit had been meant for Grant. If the circumstances had been any different, the outcome very likely could have been the death of her brother. The very thought tore through her ravaged heart and exploded, weakening her.

More blood to pool at her feet. Blood that spilled because of her pride. The letter had said this would happen, and she had chosen not to listen. Now her family was paying the price.

Fighting back the urge to scream, Madison strolled up to room 208 and balanced the vase of elegant, white flowers she carried on one arm as she knocked.

When she stepped inside, she spotted Quinn sitting up in bed, eating a bowl of soup with Grant at her side, reading the paper. When Quinn glanced up at her and grinned, she attempted a smile in return.

“I heard through the grapevine today that my brother’s getting married,” Madison said, her eyes warming as she approached Quinn’s bedside and set the vase down on the table.

“Yep.” Quinn held out her hand, reaching for Madison’s. “I’ve always said that when something bad happens in life, there’s usually something good right around the corner to balance it out.”

“Well, this is certainly good news,” Madison agreed, her eyes flicking to her brother as she held onto Quinn’s hand. “I would say welcome to the family, Quinn, but I’m afraid our family is not a very welcome place to be right now.”

Grant’s eyes flashed in warning as he shook his head ever so slightly. He still had not told Quinn about the cause of the accident, given that her family had interrupted his plans to do so. He couldn’t bear to worry her when she was so happy to see her parents and siblings again.

Quinn didn’t notice, but continued to watch Madison as her eyes softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry, I’m pulling you both away from trying to find Kennedy. You both should go. I’ll be fine. I should be able to check out of here tomorrow, and then I can help you.”

Madison eyed Quinn curiously, annoyed that her heart warmed at the compassion in the other woman’s voice, the effortless faith. They were concepts that Madison had never really understood. “There’s little we can do except assist the police.”