SURVIVING SAVANNAH: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK 16), Honey Palomino [ebook offline reader .TXT] 📗

I exited through the French doors on the side of the house, making my way around to the covered veranda.

The group of men standing around was made up of all the familiar faces.

I hated each and every one of them for different reasons.

The five men represented the worst of the worst in this town. They weren’t drug dealers or low-life criminals. They were the kind of criminals that smiled to your face while they robbed you. And they didn’t just take your money, they took your dignity and reputation and any sense of safety you may have thought you had.

They did it in the light of day for everyone to see. That was the trick to getting away with all the dirty deals they did, nobody batted an eye at their corruption if the lights were on.

Their real secrets are the things they did at night when nobody was watching.

Anton sat in his usual chair as the activity swirled around him while they waited for everyone to arrive.

Alan Bradley, the Sheriff of Savannah, stood by his side. Alan’s dad had been the sheriff before he died, and his old man had been Anton’s most loyal partner. He’d never have gotten away with half the shit he did without the cooperation of the Sheriff’s Department over the years.

The Mayor, Tyree Finley, was pouring himself another drink, and by the looks of the way he was struggling with that snifter, it was probably his third or fourth drink of the day.

I hated him most of all.

He was Rose’s father and without him meddling in our lives, neither Rose nor I would be as miserable as we are today. Hell, I wouldn’t be here with these assholes at all if it wasn’t for him.

Carl Rothstein, Beddinham’s personal lawyer, was yelling into his telephone in the corner. He was a very busy man and rarely spoke during our meetings, lingering like another one of Anton’s ghosts in the corner.

Michael Carlisle held court front and center, his usual whiskey in his hand as he boasted about the exorbitant amount of commission he’d made on a real estate deal this week. He and his wife had whisked into town a few decades ago and he’d latched onto Anton as fast as he could. Once Anton had him hooked with the kind of favors Carlisle needed that only Anton could provide — mainly women and coke — the two of them quickly realized they shared the same sick religious beliefs, too, if you could even call them that.

Anton was able to eventually convince Carlisle to give up his daughter Josephine to his sick game, just as Beddingham had given up his own granddaughter, Lily.

Their secrets were buried deep, with only the people in this room knowing the true depravity they possessed.

And, unfortunately, I was next.

I hated being involved. I hated knowing them. More than anything, I hated being related to Finley, even if it was only by marriage.

Of course, I was a Davenport, and I was just like them. Only I wasn’t a true believer, not in their eyes. They only wanted me involved because I had something that they wanted. They only trusted me because they knew I couldn’t betray them without destroying myself in the process at this point.

“You’re late, Davenport,” Anton barked. With his impeccably-tailored three-piece suit and arrogant tone, he knew how to put a man in his place with one look. That didn’t work with me, though.

“I have a lot on my plate right now,” I snapped. I didn’t hide my displeasure with any of them. They knew that I didn’t want to do any of the shit they were making me do.

Rothstein hung up the phone and joined us and Carlisle finally shut his mouth so we could begin the meeting.

“Alright, first things first. Why is the red-headed bitch still alive?” Anton asked, giving me a pointed look.

“I have to go slow so her body can process the toxins. If I do it all at once, it’ll show up in the autopsy.”

I was lying, of course, and half-hoping for a miracle. The toxins would show up no matter what, I was just trying to come up with a way to falsify the medical examiner’s report and buy some time. And I was kind of hoping that something would happen so that I didn’t have to kill this woman at all. So far, that wasn’t looking so good.

“You should have taken care of her when it happened,” Anton said. “Keeping her alive is useless. We don’t know what she heard, but I’m sure it was enough to bring us all down.”

“I’m just trying to figure out how to get the report changed,” I said, sullenly.

“We can take care of that,” Anton barked, clearly impatient. “Do it by tomorrow, Davenport. Stop pussy-footing around, goddammit!”

I sighed, nodding in agreement. The vial of poison was still in my coat in my office back at the hospital. If I gave her the whole thing, it would be over in seconds.

The crash still haunted me, and sometimes when I was trying to go to sleep, I could still see Cherry’s twisted body trapped in that car. I hated that I’d been the one to cause that. We’d been at the cemetery that night, Anton wanted to talk through everything and scout out a new location he was considering, but we’d thought we were alone. Cherry heard everything, most likely. By the time we figured out she was there, we’d said a lot.

Too much.

Anton told me to go after her, to do whatever it took to shut her up and I knew what that meant. When she jumped in her car, I knew I could easily out run her in my Porsche. Something desperate sparked inside of me as I thought about all the damage she could do with what she’d heard. I hadn’t been involved in the other murders, but I was sure as hell involved now, even if