A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)(18)

Hell, what was he thinking? Irelyn and complicated were synonymous.

He shook his head and regretted the movement. He was a little more banged up than he’d revealed to Irelyn. Slight concussion, badly bruised nose, and a cut on his forearm that had led to the need for a couple of pints of blood. That was nothing compared to Lacey’s injuries.

He hadn’t been unconscious long. Maybe a minute or two. People had been shouting at him when he woke—drivers who’d stopped to help. His brain had been addled a bit, but he’d had enough wits about him to turn to check on Lacey. Seeing the vibrant young woman unconscious and ghost pale had scared the hell out of him. When he’d touched her face, her skin had felt ice cold, and he’d been convinced she was dead. Thankfully, he’d been wrong, but she was gravely injured.

Things had gotten blurry after that. Paramedics had arrived. He and Lacey had been brought to the hospital, and while he could proclaim that he was the wealthy and powerful Grey Justice, medical professionals trying to save lives could care squat about his identity. As long as they saved Lacey’s life, that was fine by him.

Grey’s first call had been to Eli and hadn’t been an easy one to make. No matter what anyone told him, he knew Lacey was fighting for her life for one reason only. She had accepted a ride home from a man whom too many people wanted to kill.

The entire Slater clan had descended on the hospital. While Eli and Jonah had cornered the doctor, their wives, Kathleen and Gabriella, had consoled Eleanor Slater. And Grey had been on the phone with his investigators. Whoever was behind this would pay.



The local news was filled with the news of Justice’s accident. The target was still alive.

A stinging punch of anger in his gut was his only emotion. Since anger would get him nowhere, he acknowledged his failure and moved on. Emotions were pointless. Cold, hard logic was his key to a successful termination. Emotions created chaos.

He entered a number into his burner phone. “I missed.”

“That’s unfortunate,” a crisp British voice said.

“I’ll get it done.”

“I have no doubt.”

“What’s my time frame?”

“Three failed attempts will cancel the contract.”

“I won’t fail again.” He ended the call on that bold statement. There was nothing else to discuss. He would get the job done the second time around.

Justice had proved to be an elusive target. More than one assassin had tried and failed to bring him down. Contracts had been dissolved, and lives had been destroyed. He didn’t plan on being one of the casualties.

Having studied his subject, he felt he knew the billionaire as well as anyone did. But he’d had more than one reason to research the enigmatic philanthropist. Justice’s longtime companion, Irelyn Raine, was even more intriguing. She wasn’t the target, and by all accounts, the relationship between her and Justice had ended. Still, she fascinated him. He knew her, yet he didn’t. He found himself wanting to know more. That was an oddity he refused to examine. He had little use for people and placed them in two categories: those who paid him to kill and those he killed.

He packed his small duffel bag and walked out of the hotel room. Even though he wasn’t leaving Dallas as planned, he wouldn’t stay here another night. Staying in one place too long invited curiosity and familiarity. Being forgotten or ignored was a plus in this business. His size and looks prevented him from blending into the background as well as some others. To compensate, he was extra wary, slipping in and out of his room at late hours. He always wore black or brown clothing and often changed his facial features with putty or enhancements. If more than one person was asked to describe him, no one would ever agree. He was that good.

As he made his way down the sidewalk, he glanced around at the people he passed. Did they realize death lived among them? Or did they go about their lives, unaware that the man next to them could, without remorse, end their lives? He wondered what that kind of na?veté felt like. From the moment of his birth, he had known only want and hunger and had been willing to do anything to get what he wanted. The day he’d been rescued was the day his life changed for the better, but he still felt the hunger and the want, just in a different way. He had wanted to devour. He had learned control and discipline, two things he hadn’t had before. And he had been taught to destroy. The lessons had been harsh, but they had toughened him and made him into the ultimate killing machine.

He owed everything to the man who’d saved him, the man he had called Father. If he ever found the person responsible for killing Hill Reed, he’d take him apart, bit by bit, until not even the rats would want him.





Chapter Seven





Dallas, Texas

Offices of the Grey Justice Group





Grey stood at the front of the large conference room. The women and men who sat at the table were the heart and soul of the organization. He had a working knowledge of all the cases the team handled, but they were the ones who did the actual labor. Without them, justice, for many, would never be obtained.

Each person could choose his or her own case or have one assigned. One or two team members worked the case until justice had been served. On occasion, more people were involved, and yes, on occasion, laws were skirted or bypassed. Rarely did a case require significant laws to be broken. He might not be a stickler for following rules, but he damn well would not allow his people to put themselves or their families in jeopardy. He would take the fall before any of his people did. His neck was the only one he was willing to risk.