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But I’m just the fuck-up who lost the love of my life fucking days after I found her, and her friend with her. So who am I to judge?
It's close to one in the morning, but there is still work to be done, so when our escort presses a button and announces our arrival over the intercom. We are buzzed in immediately. Xavier is waiting just inside, dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, as if he just came out of a meeting except for his loose tie and the two undone buttons at the top of his shirt.
His hair is wild. Before anyone says a word he rakes his hands through it, advertising his agitation and stress.
He strides toward me, his hand outstretched, the look on his face guarded and tight. I don’t blame him. I’m reserving judgment myself until I see how this meeting goes.
I step forward, clasping his hand with mine. We both squeeze harder than necessary, sizing each other up. He is larger than I thought he would be. Nearly as l big as I am, and I’m definitely not a small guy. His hand is hard and calloused, the knuckles raw as if he has been punching something or someone. His eyes are equally hard and calculating as he stares me down.
I don’t look away.
He looks hard as nails and that is jus
t what this situation is going to need. Hard men who aren’t afraid to get shit done, no matter the cost. I’m that kind of man, and I recognize it in Xavier Cerelli immediately. For the first time since the girls were taken I can feel my nerves settle. For the first time since they were taken, I believe that if we work together we will find the girls and get to the bottom of why they were taken… and how we were found.
I usually only get this feeling of calm when I’m working tough situations with Blake. I trust it. I have bet my life on it more than once and it hasn’t steered me wrong yet. I’m taking it as a good sign.
“You two look like shit,” Cerelli finally says in greeting, looking between Blake and I. Blake steps forward, shaking hands and introducing him to John and Mike.
“Come in,” he says, after introductions are made, motioning us further into the luxurious apartment. “Let’s get to work. Pretty sure I know who has them. I just don’t know why, or where he’s taking them.”
Blake responds first, voicing my own thoughts. “I want to know how they were able to find us. This whole op has been silent. No one but Travis and I even knew we were going to look for Mrs. Cerelli, so there is no way that anyone should have known that we were bringing her back here.”
Xavier shrugs a wide shoulder, shaking his head. He obviously doesn’t know the answer to that any more than we do.
We follow him down a dimly lit hall to his home office. The whole place feels cold and unlived in. The walls are bare. There is no art, no photographs, nothing personal anywhere. I can’t help but think about what Faye told me, that Ana loves this man, and I can’t help but wonder if he was as cold to her as this house is.
The office is the same as the hall. Empty walls, uncovered windows, all glass and uncomfortable-looking furniture. He motions for all of us to take a seat. “Whiskey?” he asks, turning toward a small cabinet in the corner. I nod an affirmative. I could use something to take the edge off after the day I’ve had.
John side-eyes me with a shake of his head and speaks up. “That’s a hard no. They are both mildly concussed.” He gestures at Blake and I.
Xavier chuckles. “Well, I hope you don’t mind if I have one. It’s not every day you find out your uncle is attempting to stage a coup and kidnapping your wife was his first fucking strike.” He looks beyond pissed.
“Well fuck,” I say, “this is a shit show.” Turning to John, I ask, “You sure I can’t have that drink?”
“Still don’t recommend it, boss.”
Disgusted, I shake my head. “Any idea where your uncle has set up shop?”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. He was supposed to have gone back to New York when I came west.”
“Any ideas?” Mike asks. He doesn’t usually say much. He’s a SEAL, not a Marine like John, Blake and I. Not that that has anything to do with him being quiet; but he’s seen some messed up shit in his time, like the rest of us. There’s a darkness about him that simmers just beneath the surface. He’s handy as hell in a fight and quick to offer his interrogation skills when needed. Like I said, dark.
Xavier must sense the darkness in him and he nods slowly, weighing his response before volunteering information. Mike’s a good guy, but intense.
“Analise’s dad has been gone for a few days. No one has a clue where he is. He has a gambling problem. At first, I figured he was holed up somewhere drinking and gambling, but with Ana and your girl being snatched the way they were, I think there’s a chance that he might be involved.”
“Seems possible,” I agree, glancing over to Blake to gauge his reaction.
“I knew he was going to be trouble when I brought him out here,” Xavier says, finishing his drink and slamming the glass down on his desk. “He always ran with Dominic and my father’s men.”
“Then why did you bring him?” Blake asks.
I know the answer before he says it; it’s obvious to me. I would have made the same choice in his shoes.
“Analise. I couldn’t leave her in New York when I was coming here.”
It’s just as I suspected, he brought a man he couldn’t trust to keep her near him. He loves her.
