“Kelvin has been gathering information on both Caprice and Vena. He thinks he’s close to having what he needs to make a trade with Caprice for Rachel, but that doesn’t get the twins back.”
I have Google maps pulled up on my phone, looking for routes to Chicago. “If they take I-64 through West Virginia, we could try to intercept them in less populated areas, but if they head north toward D.C.…”
“We could call in the favor owed to us from the save at the Stars and Stripes,” Luke finishes my thought.
“I know I’d be asking a lot.”
“Nonsense,” Luke protests. “This is your woman we’re talking about and her brothers. There’s no better use of a favor than saving the ones you love.”
“Agreed,” Bo and I say at the same time. Bo grins as his gaze meets mine.
30
NICKY
Anger like I’ve never felt before courses through me. Seeing that man hit Rachel triggers something inside me. Something feral, untamed, and frightening. The need to protect my sister, the one person besides my twin who has always taken care of me, is overwhelming.
Ricky has always been the extroverted one. The one who speaks up and takes control. I’ve been content to let him lead while I happily follow along with whatever he wants to do. I’m his wingman, his back up, but in this moment, I want to take charge. Ineedto do something.
I lunge forward intent on beating the asshole into the ground, but my father grabs my arm, jerking so hard it feels like he’s dislocated my shoulder. Ricky makes a move, too, but Rico grabs him.
“Fuck off!” Ricky yells, twisting out of his hold and again starts toward Rachel, but it’s no use. Rico overpowers, him wrapping both arms around Ricky’s middle, pinning his arms to his sides. He drags Ricky to the vehicle and shoves him in the back passenger side door.
“Get in the damn car,” my father growls, shoving me from behind and making me stumble into the vehicle. My fists clenchat my sides as I contemplate punching the bastard in the throat, but with his henchman at his side, it would be pointless.
Even if I could beat down the man I’ve been terrified of all my life, Rico would take me out before Ricky and I could escape. Now isn’t the time, so I slide into the back seat next to my brother like the good little boy my father expects me to be.
Your time is coming, old man. It might not be today, but I will save my siblings and end you once and for all.
Hours later, the private jet touches down at Chicago Executive Airport. A black Escalade is waiting on the tarmac. A man, who I presume to be our driver, is leaning against the hood. His Armani suit is stretched tight across his arms that are casually crossed over his abdomen. He straightens up as we approach, and his coat shifts to reveal a chest holster, the butt of his pistol flashing in the fading sunlight. Another reminder of who our father is at his core. A fucking mob boss.
Our father leads us toward the waiting SUV. The wind whips around us buffeting us with drops of rain. The sky is darkening rapidly from menacing storm clouds moving in from the northwest. A flash of lightening streaks across the clouds followed by the boom of thunder.
“Good evening, Mr. Vena,” the driver greets, moving to open the back passenger side door. “Looks like we’ll be getting some rain soon.” Our father lifts his face toward the sky assessing the clouds in much the same way he’d assessed Ricky and I when he’d first laid eyes on us.
“It will hold off until we arrive at the mansion,” Father declares as if he’s fucking God and can control the damned weather by his words alone. I glance at Ricky who rolls his eyes, obviously thinking the same thing.
A limo appears around the corner of the hanger, moving rapidly toward us. Beside me, father tenses, and his hand grasps his weapon, pulling it from its holster. Our driver places hishand on the butt of his gun but doesn’t draw it just yet. His dark eyes shrewdly assessing the new arrival.
The limo pulls up so that it is parallel to us. The back driver’s side window lowers slowly, revealing a gray-haired man with a clean-shaven face. My father’s spine snaps straight, and his shoulders tense. It occurs to me that my father is afraid of this man.Who the fuck is he?
The man appears to be in his seventies, but he doesn’t look frail or even elderly for that matter. His eyes are shrewd and calculating as they move over us one by one.What is he doing here? Is he father’s ally? Or his enemy?
“Vena,” the old man says, at last. His eyes focus on our father. “We need to have a word.” Father gives a single nod, then he turns to the man who’d been waiting for us to arrive.
“Take them home,” he commands. “Mario will see to them until I return.”
“Yes, sir,” the driver agrees before grasping both Ricky and I by an arm and herding us to the backseat of the SUV. Father walks around the limo and slides into the back with the old man.
“I hear you’ve been scheming behind my back, Reginald,” the old man accuses. The window begins to rise as the limo pulls away, and I can’t keep from staring, my curiosity getting the better of me.
The old man meets my gaze just before the blacked-out window rises too high for me to see him. A shiver runs down my spine as I look into those black, soulless eyes. Again I wonder what he wants with our father.
“Get in!” the driver grumbles as he shoves us toward the SUV. “We don’t have all day for you two to be daydreaming.” Ricky opens the back door and climbs inside, scooting over to make room for me to follow him.
The moment the door slams shut Ricky turns to me. “We have to get the fuck out of here!” he whisper-shouts. “We have tofind our way back to Virginia Beach and the Robertson brothers. They’re the only ones who can help us find Rachel.”
I nod my agreement but don’t say a word. The driver is opening his door, and I don’t want him becoming suspicious. The only way we’re getting out of this is to catch him off guard, and it will have to be before we reach the mansion. Otherwise we are royally fucked. Once we are behind those walls, it will take an act of God to get us out of there again.
