Page 4 of Redeemed (Redeemed #1)

Chapter Four

Kennedy

T he cleaners are hard at work removing evidence of tonight’s target when I walk through the living area.

It took more time than I care to admit—calming my nervous system and avoiding the panic attack that was clawing at my chest. The ability to instantly turn off the gut-wrenching guilt that follows an assignment left me six months ago.

Being back in Georgia has caused memories of my mother to resurface and the emotions that come along with that have become harder to manage.

Which is just another reason why we need to take care of Michael Ellis—so I can finally leave the Rose Empire and mourn my mother’s death.

How does the only heir to a criminal organization leave their birthright?

I’m still trying to figure it out. But the weight of grief is becoming harder to carry, and I yearn to feel something other than the fire of my rage.

I’ve been trained for so long to not allow myself to feel or show weakness that I’m scared that if I allow myself to cry, I will actually break.

So, I push down my trauma response and ignore the hollowness in my chest until I’m home with a bottle of wine.

Nathan and I make eye contact across the room, and I nod my head toward the door, informing him that I’m leaving. I silently pray that the conversation he’s having with some of our crew will keep him occupied, but that prayer goes unanswered when Nathan joins me as I exit the penthouse.

“Heading out for good?” he asks, checking out my change of attire—a fitted black dress, paired with my favorite pair of Louboutin’s, my matching blazer draped over my arm.

“Yeah, I have another appointment tonight,” I say as I continue my walk toward the elevator.

There were deeper motivations fueling me to derail the timeline of this mission, starting with a meeting, that isn’t Empire business, which could result in a new beginning for me.

“Take security with you.” Nathan pulls out his phone before continuing. “Cary or Jason could leave from here with you.”

I place my hand over the screen of his phone. “I’ve already texted Cary; he’s meeting me in the garage with a car.”

He looks up from his phone, brows pinched as he scans my face. “You good about how that played out back there?”

I close my eyes and press my back to the wall. “Does it ever feel like this life is starting to be too much?”

It’s been years since we’ve had a conversation like this. As teens, we always hatched hairbrained schemes about running away during the hard days of training. Both of us were too scared of my father to actually follow through.

Nathan’s arm slides around my neck and I rest my head on his shoulder. “Kennedy, there’s nothing out there for people like us.”

It hurts to hear those words coming from my best friend, but I’m not in a place to convince him otherwise. I’m not even sure I believe differently myself.

“Yeah, I’m sure this feeling will pass.” I shake my head and run my fingers through the ends of my hair. “I’m just exhausted.”

“Well, your father will be happy about the money we recovered tonight. I also got one of the boys mining additional data from Garcia’s phone. There might be a bigger pay-off than we could’ve hoped for.”

He holds out his fist for a bump and I oblige.

I press the elevator call button before saying, “Hopefully we don’t make a bigger enemy.”

“Doesn’t matter. We will be ready for whatever enemy comes.” Nathan starts backing down the hall toward the penthouse. “Will I see you at the apartment?”

“If you decide to come home,” I say with a smirk.

He lets out a full laugh. “We’ll see, boss.” Nathan smiles and throws me a salute before walking back into the room.

I move through the parking garage with purpose, only feeling an ounce of relief once I spot Cary, my personal guard.

I watch as his eyes scan the surrounding area, checking for any possible threat.

I made the decision years ago to pay for my own security, not wanting to leave the responsibility of my life in the hands of someone on Rose Empire’s payroll.

Nathan leads the rest of my security, but Cary’s loyalty is to me alone.

“Hey, Cary.”

He possesses an easy-going demeanor as I move toward him, standing about six inches taller than me with the shoulder width of a linebacker. Tonight, his hair is pulled back in a bun, showing off the shaved sides of his head.

“Good evening.” He opens the back door of the Range Rover. I slide into the seat and get situated. Once he’s settled into the driver’s seat, he looks to me through the rearview mirror. “Should we head to our next destination?”

“Yes, please.”

I adjust the seatback, tilting into a semi-recline before closing my eyes and practicing more breath work.

Soft jazz fills the air, letting me know that Cary has connected the instrumental playlist that helps me unwind.

My head needs to be in the game for my meeting at Emerald Nights, a relatively new lounge bar in the entertainment district.

The owner of the lounge is an enigma in the crime world because of what he’s been able to create with this venue.

The VIP section of Emerald Nights is a neutral zone for criminal business to be handled without the fear of a killing spree breaking out.

Spots on the VIP list are expensive as hell and hard to come by, but I need this VIP access, which means I need this meeting to go well.

This could be my ticket to finally coming face to face with Michael Ellis.

Garcia naming Ellis as his boss tonight made this access even more important to obtain.

Entrance to Emerald Nights can’t be bought and there is strict protocol before a meeting is granted with the owner.

From what I’ve heard, he has no allegiance to anyone other than himself.

All of my conversations have gone through Tori Carter, the business manager, and the face of the legitimate side of the operation.

Cary pulls into the employee lot that I’ve been granted access to for this meeting, and I check my makeup in the mirror before reapplying my gloss.

Appearance is everything, but wearing a dress makes it impossible to discreetly carry my gun.

So, I settle for my favorite switchblade in my clutch and hope for the best.

“This should be a quick meeting, so you can wait here. The lounge isn’t open, so I shouldn’t have any problems.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I take one last glance in my compact mirror to check my appearance, then I’m out of the car, crossing through the alleyway that separates Emerald Nights from its neighboring building.

My heels click across the pavement as I take note of my surroundings.

There are mounted cameras that line the alleyway, and an exit that must be for employees.

When I round the corner, I stop in my tracks at the sheer amount of people lining up at the entrance. It’s nine thirty. The lounge doesn’t open for another thirty minutes, but the energy of the crowd is palpable. For the second time tonight, I’m envious of the freedom other people have.

Two security guards built like pro wrestlers are prepping for their night of checking IDs and managing adult children.

One of them is setting up a velvet rope to keep the patrons in a single-file line, while the other is scanning the streets for threats, I assume.

Which makes me wonder, how do they manage to keep these people separate from the criminals filtering in and out?

I walk to the front entrance with commanding confidence—like I belong here—and the guard scanning the street turns his attention to me.

“I’m here to meet with Tori Carter. My name is Kennedy Eden.”

Even though the lounge welcomes criminals into their fold, I’m still protective of my identity. I have another government identity under the last name Eden—my mother’s maiden name, a reminder of how important all my decisions are.

He looks me over, assessing how much danger I present, but what he sees won’t set off alarm bells. I’ve been trained far too well at hiding the killer within.

The guard puts a finger to his ear, speaking into a headset. “I have a Kennedy Eden for Ms. Carter.” He nods to himself, before saying to me, “Right this way, ma’am.”

I follow Mr. Tall and Beefy into the building, eyes scanning the entrance for any sign of a threat. The sound of heels from down the hall captures my attention and I see Tori walking over to us.

“Hi, Kennedy! Thank you, Bruno.” Tori pats the bouncer’s shoulder.

“Have a good evening, ladies,” Bruno says as he turns to head back to his post.

“Kennedy, welcome back to Emerald Nights.” She reaches out her hand for a quick shake, brows furrowing as she exams my face. “Everything okay? Your aura feels a little dark.”

She did this during our initial meeting, and it creeped me out then as well. But I don’t know what it means, and I don’t know if there is any truth to it.

“Yes. My night started off a little rough, but I’m happy to be here. Thank you for the invite.”

Together, we walk down the hall toward the main floor of Emerald Nights. “A little spiritual cleansing will get that dark cloud away from you, honey.”

I don’t know how to respond to that either, so I just nod and wait for her to continue.

“Tonight, won’t take up too much of your time, we just have a strict policy that prospective VIPs come in before business hours for their exclusive tour.”

“That’s completely understandable—wouldn’t want to mix clientele.”

Tori’s smile is tight. “It happens. Not frequently, but it’s not unheard of.”

We walk through the bar as I marvel at the beauty of this entertainment space. This is my first time laying eyes on the place since our first meeting was conducted over video call. The lighting is set low, creating an energetic ambience, encouraging people to let loose.