"Oh, no," I sniped. "Probably just some cracked ribs from the looks of that."
"I don't think they're cracked," she said in a defensive voice. "They weren't even bothering me until a few minutes ago."
"That's because the adrenaline hasn't completely worn off yet. Believe me, even if they're not cracked, they're still going to be plenty sore soon enough. Now, come over here, and sit down."
Bria grumbled, but she let me guide her over to a blue recliner in the corner and sank down onto it. She winced again. If that simple motion hurt, it wouldn't be long before her bruised body stiffened up more, and she wouldn't be able to do anything without feeling the pain of the fight.
"You're staying here," I said. "You're in no condition to fight, especially not against someone like Grimes."
Bria's face scrunched up with mulish determination, and she opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off.
"Please?" I asked in a soft voice. "Sophia's already gone, and I almost lost Jo-Jo. I don't want to lose you too."
Her lips flattened out into a thin line, but she reluctantly nodded. That alone told me how much she was already hurting. "All right, all right," she said. "What do you want me to do?"
"call Finn, and tell him what happened, then stay here and watch over Jo-Jo. I don't think that Grimes will come after her again, but I don't know that he won't either."
Bria nodded, and she squeezed my hand. "Just promise me that you'll be careful."
I squeezed back. "I promise."
"I'll stay too," Roslyn volunteered. "And I'll call Xavier and let him know what's going on."
"Thank you. And I need one more favor from you."
"Name it."
I looked at Roslyn. "can I borrow your car?"
She reached into her shorts pocket, pulled out her keys, and tossed them over to me. "Only if you promise to ram it over the bastard who took Sophia."
I grinned. "consider it done."
I didn't tell Roslyn that running over Harley Grimes with her car was too good, too quick, and far too merciful a death for him. Oh, no. I was going to give Mr. Grimes my personal brand of attention - Spider-style.
The others agreed to stay put, keep an eye on Jo-Jo, and hold down the fort in case Grimes or any of his men showed up at cooper's. It was a long shot that they would, but I hadn't thought armed men would burst into the salon this morning either.
I headed outside, but I wasn't alone. Phillip followed me. He matched me stride for stride as I stepped off the patio and started around the house.
"What do you want, Phillip?"
"I want to go with you."
I stopped and gave him a flat look. "Not going to happen. Jo-Jo's not out of the woods, cooper's exhausted, and Bria's injured. Someone needs to stay here and help Roslyn with them, and that someone is going to be you."
"And you need someone to watch your back," Phillip
countered. "Look at you. You're a bloody mess right now.
Hell, you don't even have any shoes on."
I glanced down, my toes curling into the soft grass.
He was right. I'd been so focused on getting Jo-Jo out of the salon that I hadn't even stopped to grab my sandals on the way out. I shrugged and started walking again.
"What do you think you're going to do?" Phillip continued, moving with me. "Get a couple of knives, go up to Grimes's camp, and take him out?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do," I said. "Except that I'm not going to be so nice as to merely kill him. No, after I get there, I plan on carving up Harley Grimes like a Thanksgiving turkey and leaving pieces of him all over the mountain for the buzzards to find. If they can stomach the likes of him."
Phillip didn't bat an eye at the cold promise of violence in my voice. "I can't say that I disapprove, but Grimes is a bad, bad guy, Gin. He's someone that even I would think twice about taking on. I didn't tell you half of the things I've heard about him."
"Like what?"
"Well, for starters, he's ruthless."
"And I'm not?"
Phillip ignored my snide comment. "Grimes kills anyone who tries to cut in on his gun-running market in the slightest way. Mab herself used to get weapons for her giants from him, and even she paid what Grimes asked for them. A couple of the Southtown gangs made moves against him in the past, but he killed them all - and their family members. Mothers, sisters, brothers, cousins." He hesitated. "Apparently, Grimes also fancies himself a ladies' man. And if he sees a lady he likes - "
"He takes her," I finished. "No matter who gets in his way. Yeah, I knew that already. I got a close-up view of Mr. Grimes doing that in the salon."
Sophia! Jo-Jo! Sophia! Jo-Jo!
The Deveraux sisters' screams echoed in my head, and the memory of Sophia hanging on to that doorframe, stretching one hand out to Jo-Jo, rose in my mind, blocking out everything else. I blinked, and the image vanished. But left in its place was my dark desire to end Harley Grimes's miserable existence. Once again, that cold, black rage pulsed through my body, beating along like an ominous song keeping time with my heart.
I rounded the front of the house, stalked over to Roslyn's car, and wrenched open the driver's-side door.
"Gin?"
I turned to face Phillip. concern darkened his blue eyes, and his golden eyebrows were drawn together, as if he was still trying to think of some way to talk me out of this. His hands were curled into fists, and I got the distinct impression that he was considering tackling me to keep me from leaving. But nothing short of death would stop me, and if I had to hurt Phillip to make my point, well, I wouldn't like it, but I'd do it, the way I had done so many other terrible things over the years.
Phillip must have sensed my thoughts, because he made himself loosen his fists and step back, although his jaw was still clenched so tightly it made his chiseled cheekbones stand out like arrows pushing against his skin.
Phillip and I weren't friends, not exactly, but he was trying to look out for me in his own way. So I decided to put his mind at ease - so to speak.
"You're forgetting one thing, Phillip."
"And what's that?"
"Harley Grimes might be a bad, bad guy, but I happen to be a bad, bad bitch. And this bastard has hurt my family for the second time. He's not just going to pay for that - he's going to die for that. Believe me when I tell you that nothing you do or say is going to stop me from going up to his camp and killing anyone and anything that looks at me cross-eyed."
Phillip's lips pinched tight with frustration. "Well, if you won't let me go with you, at least let me call Owen."
"No. No way. Absolutely not. This doesn't have anything to do with him."
Phillip snorted. "You're involved in it, which means that he is too. He'll never forgive me if I let you go off and get yourself killed. He loves you, Gin. He always has, despite what happened with Salina."
What happened was that I'd killed Owen's ex-fiancee, Salina Dubois, even though he'd asked me not to. Of course, Salina had been trying to kill me and a whole bunch of other people at the time, but Owen had still had a hard time dealing with her death, especially since it had been at my hand. Needless to say, our relationship hadn't exactly been a bed of roses since then.
Still, Owen and I weren't as estranged as we had been.
Since seeing each other at the Briartop museum, he'd come into the Pork Pit a few times to have lunch. We were still dancing around each other, though, still trying to figure out how or even if we could move forward. That was frustrating enough, but I didn't want Owen involved in this.
"Gin?" Phillip asked. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Owen and Salina have nothing to do with this," I snapped. "Jo-Jo and Sophia are my family, and nobody - no damn body - hurts my family. Ever. Hell, even if they weren't my family, I wouldn't leave anyone to the likes of Harley Grimes. Not after what I saw him do this morning."
Phillip hesitated again, like he wanted to tell me something else, but I didn't let him.
"Look," I said. "The best thing that you can do for me right now is see to cooper. Make sure that he's resting and getting his strength back. I don't know how well his magic worked on Jo-Jo, and he might need to try to heal her again. He knows that you believe in him. That will give him more confidence that he can save Jo-Jo if she takes a turn for the worse. And I'm also asking you believe in me . Because I didn't earn my reputation as the Spider by chance."
"I know," Phillip said. "But you shouldn't have to do it alone."
I gave him a grim smile. "I appreciate the concern, but in the end, we're all alone - especially me."
"Just . . . be careful, okay, Gin? I don't fancy getting an ass-kicking from Owen over you."
"Why, Philly," I drawled, using Eva Grayson's childhood nickname for him. "It almost sounds like you care."
"About you?" He snorted again. "Never."
"Good to know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with the devil that just can't wait."
I got into Roslyn's car, pulled the door shut, and cranked the engine. Phillip waved at me, telling me goodbye or maybe even wishing me good luck. I waved back, then hit the accelerator and raced down the driveway.
Chapter Nine
I drove Roslyn's car back to Jo-Jo's house. I would have called Finn and told him what was going on, but I'd left my cell phone at the salon, along with my knives. The first time that I could remember forgetting my weapons and leaving them behind in years.
As the miles passed, I tried to remember everything that Jo-Jo had ever told me about Grimes. It wasn't much.
He'd kidnapped Sophia, taken her to his camp, and done terrible things to her before Jo-Jo had hired Fletcher to rescue her. The old man had saved Sophia, and he and
Grimes had fought to a standstill, but Fletcher hadn't been able to finish the job and kill him. Still, Grimes had kept his distance from the Deveraux sisters since then, on the threat of death from Fletcher. End of story.
I'd definitely have to swing by Fletcher's house and see what else I could dig up. Despite what I'd told Phillip, despite my rage and how painfully aware I was of how much Sophia was probably suffering this very second, I wasn't going to go rushing into Grimes's camp blind. No,
I wanted to be as prepared as possible when I attacked him. I'd have to be, in order to get Sophia out of there alive.
I drove even faster than Roslyn had, so it didn't take me long to reach Jo-Jo's house. Despite the earlier gunshots and flashes of elemental violence, no police cars sat in the driveway. The house was on higher ground and set back from the road much farther than the others in the subdivision, so you'd really have to look to notice anything out of the ordinary. Besides, gunshots weren't uncommon in Ashland, not even out here in the 'burbs. When they did erupt, most folks hurried to lock their doors and grab their own weapons, rather than calling the cops, most of whom would take their sweet time responding.
From a distance, Jo-Jo's home looked the same as always. A three-story white plantation house perched on top of a hill, a grassy lawn spread out around it like the rippling skirt of an emerald dress. It was only when I got out of the car and walked closer that I could see the damage that Grimes, Hazel, and their men had done.
The front door, left wide open, had a muddy boot print planted in the middle of it, and a sheet of water from Bria's melted elemental Ice covered the hallway, soaking my bare toes. A long, splintered piece of wood floated in the water like the plank of a wrecked ship, the part of the doorway that Sophia had pulled off in her desperate attempt to stay with Jo-Jo.
The inside of the salon wasn't any better. The men Bria and I had killed lay where they had fallen, blood pooled under their bodies, their sightless eyes fixed on the ceiling. I went through their pockets, rifling through their wallets for clues about Grimes, but all I found were driver's licenses, credit cards, and a few crumpled bar receipts.
Nothing useful. I threw the last wallet aside in disgust.
But the worst part wasn't the water or the bodies or the kicked-in door. No, the worst part was the blood that had splattered against one of the walls. Because I knew that it was Jo-Jo's blood, that I hadn't been able to protect her from this horror in her own home, that I'd stood by while she'd been shot and Sophia had been kidnapped. If I could have, I would have killed the men all over again for destroying Jo-Jo's salon. Because it was more than a business - it was a sanctuary. More than once, I'd shown up on Jo-Jo's front porch late at night, covered with blood and bruises. And every time - every single time - she'd welcomed me with open arms and healed me with no questions asked. More than that, she'd made me feel wanted, protected, loved. I'd always felt safe here - until today.
Harley Grimes would live just long enough to rue the moment he'd ever decided to come after the Deveraux sisters again.
My knives were still where I'd left them, two on the floor and three on the buffet table with all the food. The dark chocolate mousse pie, the fried chicken salad sandwiches, the chocolate-dipped fruit. All spoiled now and covered with hungry, humming flies that had invaded the house along with the heat. More sad reminders of how horribly wrong the day had gone.
I grabbed my knives, sliding one into its usual spot against the small of my back before tucking the others into the pockets of my shorts. I glanced around, wondering if there was something that I'd overlooked, and I spotted a piece of paper on the floor next to Rosco's basket in the corner. I went over, picked up the paper, and unfolded it.
