A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)(40)



Setting up his own execution had taken both skill and creativity. Luring an experienced killer into a trap was difficult enough. Luring one you wanted to capture and not kill was even more of a challenge. Grey had known too many killers to not know how they thought. An assassin would much rather die than be captured.

A small smile of satisfaction curved his lips. Irelyn had once told him that no one could do arrogant quite as well as he could. To which he had laughingly replied that she could definitely compete with him. Through sheer stubbornness and dogged perseverance, they had both learned to disguise whatever was going on in their minds. The world would never know their true thoughts unless they wanted them revealed.

Irelyn. How he had hated leaving her. He wanted to be there when she woke, to talk with her. He needed to find out what had happened, who had hurt her, and why. He damn well wanted to make sure she didn’t up and leave again. Unfortunately, he’d had no real choice. This sting had been days in the making and could not be canceled. It was a one-time opportunity to capture an assassin and find out who’d hired him.

He’d called Kennedy and asked her to come to the apartment. Having her there when Irelyn woke was the only thing he could think that wouldn’t make her run. She would no doubt be angry, but at least she would still be there. He could handle her fireworks much easier than he could take her leaving him again.

He wanted this over and done with. He wanted weeks on end where it was just the two of them, talking, laughing, and loving like they used to. Everything had gotten too damn complicated. The important things had gotten pushed aside.

He wished he could pinpoint when their troubles started. They used to be able to talk about anything. Blaming it on their efforts to bring down Mathias Slater, or even Hill Reed reentering their lives so abruptly, would be too easy. Though that certainly had brought many things to a head. But there had been an awkwardness before all that happened. Whatever it was, he intended to find out.

But first, he had a killer to catch.

“We’re all set.”

Grey turned to Nick. Dressed in a dark gray tuxedo, Gallagher looked as though he had nothing more on his mind than enjoying an elegant evening out. The fact that his wife was not in attendance, and that he was armed to the teeth, would hopefully be missed by the assassin.

“Anything suspicious yet?”

“No. Everyone’s milling around the lobby, laughing it up. If this asshole comes, he’ll not be expecting that every one of them could take him down in an instant.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

“Even though our number one priority is keeping you alive, everyone knows their orders. Capturing the bastard is our goal.”

“And if he or she doesn’t show up, at least we’ll have seen an excellent movie.”

A lot of arm-twisting had been done to get this classic movie out of the vault, but Grey had insisted on this particular one. It was Irelyn’s favorite—a Cary Grant romantic comedy that he hoped to show again under better circumstances.

Grey glanced down at his watch. “Let’s get the party started, then.”

Nick spoke into the microphone on his lapel. He was in charge of the operation and would call the shots. Since Grey was the target, he didn’t want to appear to be overly concerned with anything other than making sure everyone had a good time.

The noisy chatter of dozens of excited theatergoers filled the auditorium. Though the entire theater would hold just less than two hundred people, the balcony and box seats were closed off. All doors on the second floor had been locked, and guards were surreptitiously posted to ensure that the assassin could not get through. Limiting him in his effort to get to Grey gave them the ability to control his movements. If he was going to take a shot, there were only certain ways for it to go down.

Taking a measured breath, Grey positioned himself center stage to welcome his guests—and to make himself accessible for an assassin’s bullet.



Irelyn woke groggy and pissed without a clue why. One glance around the room and she remembered everything. Justice. He had drugged her. Even in their early years, when she had run away almost on a weekly basis, he had never done something so outrageous. Her heart told her he wouldn’t have resorted to such drastic measures if he hadn’t been so worried about her. Her mind told her that was not okay.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. His arrogance would have to be dealt with later. For now, she had to tell him what was going on. He had to know, to take care.

Ignoring the multiple aches in her body, she sat up. No time for pain. Hearing a slight noise, she shifted her eyes to see Kennedy standing at the door.

Despite the dire urgency, Irelyn felt a lift to her spirits. “Hello there. What are you doing here?”

“Grey called me. He had to go out and wanted to make sure someone was here when you woke.”

In other words, he wanted to make sure she didn’t just up and leave. She never should have told him she couldn’t stay.

“Did he go to his offices?” She glanced out the window, noting it was dark. Frowning, she saw the time on her beside clock. “He’s usually home by this time.”

“No, not his offices. He should be home soon, though. How are you feeling?”

Like someone beat the hell out of her. “A little sore.”

“Grey said you’re bruised from head to toe. That one on your face looks painful.”

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