Page 91 of Prodigal

He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” André told him. “Tell me what’s next.”

What’s next was dealing with Joseph Morrow. He turned toward the room where Robert Vale and his family were reuniting, where Nivea was likely telling her family a harrowing tale. “Next is tying up loose ends,” he told André. “Don’t wait up.”

“I will, though.”

Gideon expected nothing less. “Then I’ll see you later. I love you.” He hung up and nodded to Will, who stood next to the tallest of the Vale’s bodyguards. “Take him.”

Before the fucker could blink, Will had disarmed him and put a bullet in the back of his left knee. He dropped to the floor with a scream and his fellow bodyguards went for their weapons, but Samir and Kaleb were already on them, weapons pointed at their heads.

“You.” Gideon approached the one on the ground screaming and stood over him. “Don’t bleed too much. You still have to tell the Vales how much you got paid to hand over Nivea to Joseph Morrow.”

29

Robert Vale wasn’tthe type of man who usually got his hands dirty. Gideon knew that for a fact, but the old man seemed very at ease putting a bullet through the eye of the bodyguard who’d betrayed his family and sold Nivea to Joseph Morrow for twenty thousand dollars.

Why the Vales hadn’t checked into the finances of all their employees when Nivea went missing, Gideon didn’t know. He stood back with his arms folded as he watched Vale in action. They’d left the facility, Gideon, Vale, and Gideon’s team made a quick detour to handle the bodyguard, while Nivea’s parents took her home to reunite with the rest of their family, Kaleb in tow at Nivea’s insistence.

As he stared down at the body of the Vale’s former bodyguard, Gideon had the overwhelming urge to get back to André. There was something about the man he loved that soothed him, that wiped out the visions of blood and echoes of gunshots that Gideon had lived with for so long. And now, he just wanted to get things done and over with so he could go back to where he knew he belonged, in André’s arms.

Before André, this was what he’d lived for—spilling blood, exacting revenge. But being around Nivea had brought some things into perspective. Living his life for revenge, always focused on what he’d lost instead of what he had, was the quickest way to lose it all.

He feared losing André more than disappointing his father.

Finally, he could acknowledge it.

So, what was he going to do about it?

“Where are we meeting that son of a bitch?” Vale turned to him, his entire body shaking under the force of his rage.

Gideon understood what he felt all too well. He pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning. “Place about half an hour from here,” he told Vale. “What’s your move?”

“He doesn’t live past the hour,” Vale snarled. “That’s my move.”

That worked just fine for Gideon. “Let’s go.”

Vale had summoned more of his men and once they arrived, their sizable entourage headed out. Samir remained on the phone, in contact with one of the men Gideon had inside Morrow’s camp. They knew Morrow was already at the meeting place, an empty field with no one around for miles—Gideon smiled at that—and he’d brought four heavily armed men with him. Clearly, he was coming with an agenda, one that involved Gideon’s death.

Before André, the thought of death and dying never even registered. But now, no one would ever take him away from the man he loved. He would always make it back home. Tapping a finger on the phone in his lap, he debated calling André again. Just to hear his voice. Just to tell him he loved him. In the end, he opted not to. But again, he was ready to get back to the penthouse. Ready to crawl into bed and lose himself in the warmth of André’s body.

He was ready for all the things he hadn’t allowed himself to even consider until André came into his life.

The vehicle slowed down, having arrived at their destination, and Gideon shook himself, taking a deep breath. He was ready, too, for the next part of his plan to slot into place. He got out of the SUV, Samir and Will on either side of him as they made their way to where Morrow stood waiting, hidden by bodyguards. Gideon chuckled under his breath. It was always the cowards who seemed to think themselves the baddest.

“Winters.” Morrow stepped past his men, finally showing himself. He looked haggard, nothing like the pompous, untouchable fool he’d been before Gideon set his sights on him. Now, he wore the panicked and frustrated appearance of a man desperately trying to hold on to the last vestiges of his life. But it was like sand, straining through his fingers.

“Morrow.” Gideon glanced around. “Hell of a spot you chose to meet, huh?”

Morrow sneered at him, hatred bright in his eyes. “I know you’re the one behind it. It was you.”

Gideon cocked his head. “Not sure what you mean.”

“You took her!” Morrow lunged at him but Gideon easily sidestepped him, causing the older man to stumble, though he righted himself quickly when Samir shoved a gun in his face.

“You think you can kill me?” Morrow roared. “You can’t touch me. I’m not going anywhere.” He turned toward his bodyguards. “Kill him.” They didn’t budge. “Kill him!”

Gideon laughed at his confused bluster. “Sorry, old man. They work for me now.” He nodded at Morrow’s men and they pulled their guns, grabbing their former boss and forcing him to his knees. “You know, it was nice of you to choose this place. It will be your final resting place, after all.”

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