Enemy of my Enemy

𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

The Previous Evening

"You feeling alright?" Reyes raised his eyebrows.

Grayson could've been halfway across the world, and still, he would've caught the ridiculously strong scent of sarcasm wafting off of Reyes's words.

"I told you to leave," Grayson said.

"I know you did, boss," Reyes replied. "And if I thought you were of a sound state and mind, I'd leave you alone."

"Get out, Reyes."

"Have you completely lost your touch?" Reyes said, acting like he hadn't heard Grayson speak. "What was that, just now? Arizona? Really?"

Grayson stared at the phone laying on his desk. Bianca's phone. The case was very glittery.

"What's your point?" Grayson sighed, knowing what was coming and also knowing he wouldn't be able to avoid this conversation forever- Not unless he went through with his threats to cut Reyes's tongue out.

"A seven minute beating, then telling the guards to stop bringing her food? The least you could've done was break a couple of her ribs. That girl is unbearable to be around, but she was right. Lorenzo won't give a damn. And, soon enough, neither will any of our potential allies."

"Then tell me, my great and wise adviser, what should I do?"

Reyes shot him a look, then replied, "Parker and Campbell."

Usually, when these names were brought up, Grayson always laughed, reminiscing about the memories of what he'd done to his father's second and third in commands when they'd refused to side with him. He'd redefined the word 'horror' during the entire three days he'd kept them alive.

But this time, no such reaction came out of him. He couldn't understand why, and when he tried to dive deeper into his thoughts to figure out the answer, a bitter taste rose in his mouth.

"Why aren't you taking the measures you know need to be taken?" Reyes said, slight suspicion hidden in his tone.

"Since when did you start questioning me? I've led us this far, haven't we?" Grayson had meant for this to sound lighthearted, but it came out so much more menacing than he'd expected.

Reyes cleared his throat. "Wasn't questioning you, boss."

"Go."

This time, Reyes listened.

Grayson stared at the spot on the floor that was covered in pieces of what used to be a bottle of tequila. He was in the mood to shatter another one, but then he'd have to deal with Margaret's glares. She'd been the human caretaker of this household for as long as he could remember. She'd been a sort of mother figure to her when he'd first been moved in here. The rest of the hired help came and went- It was possible they were scared out by the echoes of pained screams that had a tendency to reverberate around the house from time to time. But Margaret alone had stayed all these years, and to this day, Grayson wasn't sure why. Did she know about what he was, and not care? Or had she lost track of all the details with her old age? Whatever the case, Grayson used all the willpower he had to place the bottle in his hand gently down on his desk.

He woke up the following morning after a horrible sleep. Leaving Reyes in charge of the Redwood House, Grayson had one of his men drive him into the city. He and three of his bodyguards- Who were all there for show, than for actual bodyguarding purposes, for obvious reasons- walked up the steps to the largest police precinct in the area.

"Sergeant Mendoza," Grayson greeted the forty-something year old police sergeant in a formal manner, seeing that he was having a conversation with two human detectives.