“Maybe your boss is the bad guy.”
Jayden paces the length of the cellar. “No, Jaxson is straight as an arrow when it comes to right and wrong. There is no morally gray with him.”
“Yet he was involved with the trafficking operation,” I point out what Jayden just told me.
He shakes his head in utter denial. “Absolutely not!” He stops pacing and glares at me, stepping closer, into my personal space. Jayden leans down, meeting my stare. He’s fueled by anger and coldness that scares me. “Jaxson is a saint compared to these men.”
“These men who don’t have a name,” I point out.
“It has to be Dante.” Jayden pushes off his heels and paces the room again.
I glance behind myself briefly, toward the door, my only escape with Jayden blocking the egress windows, not that I could easily climb out with him in the room.
“Dante wouldn’t kidnap…”
I press my lips together, knowing full well that he did abduct a child. But an entire human trafficking ring. Absolutely not.
He had kidnapped that child to stop that type of behavior from a man who was involved in hurting children. I rub my forehead, knowing full-well that DeLuca is the man or the mafia family that Jayden should be after.
But do I tell him?
Jayden’s phone rings again, and he silences it again, ignoring the caller.
“Aren’t you going to answer that? It seems kind of important if he keeps calling you,” I say, keeping my voice soft, feminine, unsuspecting.
Jayden sighs and heads for the stairs, retrieving his phone from his pocket.
“Hello?” he says, halfway up the stairs.
“Help! Jayden’s kidnapped me! I’m in a dark basement!” I scream at the top of my lungs, praying that Jaxson, the man on the other end of the phone, will hear me and come help.
Three
Jaxson
I’ve been trying for the past twenty-minutes to get through to Jayden. He’s not answering his phone, and I know he’s avoiding my calls because they keep getting sent to voicemail after a couple of rings.
What the hell is he up to?
“Hello?” Jayden finally answers, and he sounds a bit out of breath.
“What the hell took you so long?” I grumble at him, and in the background, I hear a faint female voice screaming. It’s mumbled and muffled. “What the fuck is going on, Jayden?”
He clears his throat. “Just the television,” he answers. “Sorry, I muted it.”
I don’t hear anything suspicious, and I pause, listening again, but just his breathing. “Dante called me, wants to know why you were hanging out at the Bloody Rogue.”
“I can’t go to the bar after work for a drink?” Jayden asks.
Everyone in town, at least our crew, we all know the Bloody Rogue is owned by Dante Ricci. The same Dante Ricci who runs the Italian mafia. Typically, we steer clear of their venues as much as we can.
“What’s really going on?”
“Is that my dad?” Izzie’s voice pipes up from the other side.
My stomach flops. “Why is my daughter hanging out with you?” Izzie is in her mid-twenties, there’s no reason for her to spend time with Jayden.
“She was helping me with a project,” Jayden says, clearing his throat.
