The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(122)

At first, I don’t hear a thing, but then an all too familiar voice hushes from a higher floor. With my hand on my gun, I lean towards the bannister and look up through the railings.

I’m almost certain I could walk up there and pretend I’ve been away, and they would both be stupid enough to believe me. If they weren’t being tracked by the wrong people right now, I would. I’m not about to lose my badge for doing something stupid.

Two years.

It ends tonight.

I go home to my family.

They go to prison.

I place a foot on the first step, followed by my other, slowly creeping up the first floor and then around to the second set of steps.

Halfway up, I stop and listen.

Once I’m certain I’m right, I make the call. “This is Detective Murley Wright. Two white males, likely armed, potential ambush as planned. I am inside the building and will wait out with caution.”

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I mentally run over the footprint of the third floor. There are two bedrooms on this level, and I make my way towards the one at the front of the building, knowing it will give me a vantage point of being able to see up the stairs.

I take three strides forward, and just as I near the first bedroom, the door flies open.

My heart sinks when I see Lucy standing in the doorway.

Why is she back already?

She shouldn’t be here.

I planned it perfectly to keep her out of it.

I snap into action as a thud sounds from upstairs. “Lucy, get back inside. You don’t leave this room, do you understand me?” I lock eyes with her. “You do not leave this room.”

Her brows pull in, and I know she’s confused, but the panic in my chest doesn’t allow me to soften.

“Pol, what’s going on?”

“Can you lock the door?”

“What?”

I look around the landing, quickly ushering her back into the room. I check the door and see there isn’t a lock. I close my eyes and think, my hand on my pistol. “You take this. You do not fire it unless you need to protect yourself. Do you understand me? Tell me you understand.”

“No. Polly, what—”

“Stay here.” Her hysterics rise, and I know I have to move.

“Polly!” she hisses, clutching at her T-shirt.

She shouldn’t be here.

Why is she here?

My jaw locks tight, and I turn, pinning her with a look that tells her to shut the hell up.

I contemplate going to the bedroom as planned and waiting for Felix, but now I know Lucy is here, I can’t waste time, and I can’t put her in danger.

Pulling out my phone, I text Bishop.

Murley: ETA?

Bishop: 6. We’re talking about this when we get back. The fuck were you thinking Murl?

Murley: Lucy is home. Cut Felix off outside and keep it quiet. I’m not waiting.

Six minutes. I push my phone into my pocket as it flashes with a call. I know I’m breaking rules, but I also know there isn’t a detective on this side of the island who would walk back down those stairs. If I wait, we run the risk of missing this moment, and I won’t. Not after all the work I’ve put in.

All the work they have put in.

Alec has been working on this run for months. The fact it’s gone tits up before they could make it out of the borough is laughable.

They’re panicking. Which also confirms there’s a rat amongst the pact because someone tipped Alec off—he knows Felix is coming for them.

But what they don’t know is that I’m coming for them. I might not be able to take them all down tonight, but I’ll take Alec.

I slowly climb the stairs, knowing the bedroom door is open. My mind works as I try to listen.

“What you’re saying is one of us is fucked,” Maxwell spits out. I peer over the top step, spotting his sneakers shuffling just inside the door.

“We’re both fucked!” Alec huffs, sounding winded. Probably from moving his stash all the way from the basement. “At least one of us stands a chance if we split. We leave this here and hope it’s enough.”

“You got me into this! You’re going to get me killed!”

I hear things being pushed around—boxes, I presume, scraping across the wood floor.

When Alec doesn’t respond, Maxwell stalks forward. I hear a thud, followed by another.

“You stupid—”

I make the most of the opportunity, knowing they’re distracted.

I rush the room, pulling my gun from my ankle holster.

“Keep your fucking voice—”

“You’re under arrest! Turn around and put your hands behind your back!”

Alec spots me the second I walk in, but Maxwell has to spin, his face turning as white as the powder they have stashed in the twenty-plus boxes at their feet.

“Pol—”

“FUCKING NOW! Move!”

Alec pulls a gun before I can get the words out fully, matching my stance from across the room.

“Don’t be stupid, Polly. Put the gun down. Now.” His voice is calmer than it should be, and it has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

“Fuck you! You’re done, and you know it, Alec.”

“Am I? You don’t think I’d pull the trigger on you?”

“I know you wouldn’t,” I sneer, watching as Maxwell side-eyes Alec.