Page 34 of Veiled Vengeance (The Devils of New York #3)

SPENCER

T he plane bounces twice on the runway as the pilot lowers us onto the tarmac. Zane’s hand squeezes the life out of mine as a bead of sweat drips down the side of his face.

I try to comfort him. “We’re okay. We landed safely. No turbulence or anything.”

He doesn’t respond or even look at me. He just nods and stares wide-eyed at the seat in front of him.

Rio leans over mine and Zane’s seats. “He’ll be fine, Mama. Zane just doesn’t believe that people should fly.”

“It’s unnatural,” Zane defends himself.

“If anyone should be terrified, it’s me,” Asher chimes in from beside Rio. “These seats were not designed for people of my size.”

I snort a small laugh, and Asher shoots me a playful glare.

I’ve been doing that a lot the last few days—laughing. My men—my devils—have always made me smile, but now there’s a new light to the memories we make.

We gather our few things as the flight attendant welcomes us to George Bush Intercontinental Airport.

The humidity hits us the moment the cabin door opens, and I can practically hear the entire plane groan.

The heat of the day doesn’t disappear when the sun goes down and that fact is true tonight as well.

Zane is the first one off the plane and through the Jetway. Rio grabs my hand with Asher behind us as we trail behind Zane.

Rio shakes his head and sighs. “As much as I love you, we’re never moving here.”

Chuckling, I bump him with my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I think I’m a New Yorker at heart.”

“You say ‘y’all’ a lot for a New Yorker,” Asher comments under his breath.

“Hey!” I snap back.

We trek with high spirits all the way to arrivals, even with the looming cloud of our agenda today.

Once there, Zane whistles to a man with a sign that reads, “Dickface Kingston.” He’s about as tall as Zane, with groomed hair that’s shorter on the sides and longer on top. When he spots Zane, a smile brightens his face. They hug and exchange pleasantries.

Zane keeps one arm around the man and turns to us. “Griff, you remember Rio and Asher.”

“Of course.” His response is one that makes me feel like there are stories to tell.

Zane gestures to me. “And this is our girlfriend, Spencer.”

Griffin side-eyes Zane playfully. He steps forward with his hand outstretched to me, but when I move to shake his hand, Griffin is yanked back.

“Nice try. Hands to yourself,” Zane warns.

Griffin chuckles like a goofy teen. “Can’t blame a man for trying.” He holds his hands up as if surrendering to Zane’s threat.

“Did you get what we asked for?” Asher inquires.

“Yeah, and I had to call in a lot of favors to make it happen, too,” Griffin complains comically. “You know that I’m not an arms dealer or a car dealership, right? And the drive here took a few hours. Just because I live in Texas doesn’t mean I zip from one side to another.”

Zane doesn’t address Griffin’s ribbing. “Where’s Knox?”

“He’s in the parking garage with the car.” Griffin tilts his head towards the door.

“Let’s get a move on then.” Zane slings his duffle and mine over his shoulder, motioning for Griffin to lead the way.

I hang back with Rio on our walk to the parking garage. “How does Zane know this guy?”

“Griffin, his brother, and Zane were in the foster system together for a bit.” Rio grabs my hand and interlaces our fingers.

“In Texas?”

“Yeah, Zane bounced from home to home after his foster sister died. He was down here in Texas for a bit because his social worker thought that getting some distance from New Jersey would be good for him.”

We approach a blacked-out Ford Bronco with a man who looks identical to Griffin sitting on the hood. His hair is slicked back and longer than Griffin’s. He hops down and walks right up to Zane.

Rio reads my confused face and says, “They’re twins.”

“No shit,” I whisper back with all the sass I can muster.

“About time,” Knox teases with a small curve of his lips. He’s a little more reserved and broodier than Griffin.

“Beauty takes time, Knox,” Zane teases back. He shakes Knox’s hand, and they both lean in for a typical bro hug. “Knox, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Knox—Griffin’s twin.”

I reach my hand out, and Knox returns the gesture. “Nice to meet you,” I greet him.

“Hey! Why does he get to shake her hand, and I don’t?” Griffin crosses his arms.

“You know why,” Zane deadpans.

Griffin drops his offended act and gestures to the car. “She’s all yours. The supplies you requested are in the trunk, and the tank is full.”

Knox tosses the keys to Zane, who catches them with one hand. “Thanks, guys.”

“No problem! See y’all later.” Griffin waves as he and Knox get into a red F-150 and drive away.

“Well, that was fun. Let’s get to it.” Rio opens the back door and motions for me to get inside. Once I’m settled, he slides in after me while Zane and Asher take their seats in the front.

The drive is easy to the Post Oak Hotel. There’s an argument over what music to play, but that’s to be expected.

Once we arrive, we park in the Post Oak Hotel parking lot, and Zane turns off the engine.

Looking up at the building, I express my doubt. “Are you sure she’s here?”

“Positive,” Zane confirms.

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, Princess.” Asher’s concern is endearing, but I’m ready for this. I’ve been ready for this.

My response is to get out of the car and open the back hatch. My men follow me, and I dig around in the canvas bag. I feel the cool steel under my fingertips. I take it out of the bag and check the slide and the magazine, then I screw the silencer on the end.

Rio groans. “Fuck. That was hot.”

I shoot Rio a wink. “Let’s go.”

We follow Asher to the back entrance, where Zane uses a fake keycard to open the door. The stairwell is easy to find, but the ten flights of stairs we have to climb almost kill me.

Before we enter the hall, Zane disables the security cameras. He gives Asher a single nod, letting him know we’re good to continue.

Zane opens the door to room number 1016 the same way he opened the back door of the hotel.

Asher enters first, as usual, and Rio, Zane, and I follow him.

Shopping bags from high end stores are scattered all over the couch and coffee table.

Aside from that, the entire suite is empty except for the person sleeping in the bed.

I approach the bed on light feet while Asher, Rio, and Zane stand behind me.

She looks so defenseless like this, almost childlike. But any part of my heart that might take mercy on her was obliterated. She made sure of that.

I flip on the bedside lamp, and she flinches. Her eyes blink and squint as she adjusts to the onslaught of light on her face.

“What the hell?” Mom pushes herself up, resting back on her elbows. Her face flushes red as she realizes who stands around her. “Spencer Lily Gray, you march yourself out of this room right now.”

“Tempting offer, but no. I’m here to make sure you answer for your crimes.”

“ My crimes? You’re the one in bed with criminals!” Her tone is accusing, but her words float away, missing their target.

“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb, it’ll wrinkle your skin.” I flash her my gun, and her face goes ghost white.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. But . . . what else was I supposed to do?

I was a single mom, and I needed to live.

I gave you a good life and found you a wealthy husband.

All things considered, you ended up happy.

You can walk out of here right now, and I’ll forget this ever happened. And take these thugs with you, too.”

Wrong words, Mom.

Pointing my gun at her head, I tilt my head side to side as if I’m actually giving her statement some thought. “Again, no.”

“So, what are you going to do? Arrest me? Good luck trying to prove your claims in court,” she mocks.

I feel the silent presence of my men and the strength they give me.

“Unfortunately, that’s not the plan.” The smile I give her is condescending. “You’re not leaving this room tonight. No more shopping sprees. No more rich dumb boyfriends.”

“Now, hold a minute?—”

“You don’t get any last words. I do,” I interrupt. Her mouth gapes open and I clear my throat so what I have to say is clear. “Fuck you. Enjoy hell.” Then I empty my magazine right into her face.

And she’s gone forever.

They say the best vengeance is living well, but shooting the person in the face feels just as good.

Rio whistles as if impressed. “That was gangster, Mama.”

I snicker and turn to him. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“As you should,” he quips back.

Asher wraps his arm around me and guides me out into the hallway as Rio and Zane follow us. “We need to head out. We have a long road trip ahead of us.”

“Road trip?”

Zane speaks up. “You thought that car was a rental?”

“Well . . . yeah,” I reply.

Zane smirks. “You know what they say when you assume.”

“Time to hit the road!” Rio shouts and hops in the car, followed by Asher, who rolls his eyes at Rio’s overenthusiasm.

The blood drains from my face. I love these men like crazy, but twenty-four hours in a car with all three of them . . . I don’t know how I’m going to survive. I’m sure they’ll find something for us to do to pass the time.