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“Okay. And don’t you follow me, or we’ll never leave the house.” She smiled and left the room.
She was right about that. I was already hard for her. I always was, and I always would be.
I’d been in a virtual meeting with my staff most of the morning. Even though I needed to sleep, I still had work to do, and this particular meeting couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to leave Marj alone in the house, though, so luckily I’d been able to do it remotely.
Talon and Ryan had already gone to the hospital. They were the big bosses and could move around as they pleased. They’d told me I could as well, but they were the Steels, and I wasn’t. I was determined to earn my keep around here.
I texted Joe quickly to let him know Marj was awake and we’d be on our way soon.
Then I fingered the business card I’d pulled out of my wallet earlier.
Dominic James, personal trainer.
He’d kicked my ass that day at the gym. He knew his stuff.
He also apparently kidnapped people for a living.
He hadn’t hurt any of them—other than drugging them and taking them against their will. That in itself was hurtful. But as far as the torturous, violating hurt that my father had inflicted on Colin Morse? Dominic and his cohorts hadn’t done any of that. Still, he’d hurt the woman I loved, and she might suffer long-lasting trauma because of it. Now he was missing. But I’d find him. I’d find him and make him pay.
Dominic James was most likely Dominic Booker, some relation to Cade Booker and Alessandra Booker.
The mobile number on his business card had an Iowa area code.
The phone calls Joe and I had received had also come from Iowa area codes. Different numbers, though, and no word from Mills and Johnson on their origins.
Couldn’t be all coincidental, though. Could it?
I picked up my cell phone and dialed Dominic’s number. I didn’t expect to get an answer, and I didn’t.
This is Dominic James, personal trainer. Please leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.
“This is Bryce Simpson,” I said into the phone, carefully regulating my voice. I’d never get what I wanted if I threatened to tear him limb from limb. “You and I need to talk. I have information you need.”
I set my phone down and stared at it for a moment. I was bluffing. I had no information he needed.
Or did I?
I knew of his affiliation with Cade Booker, who had disappeared from his law firm the day he’d pepper-sprayed Joe and me. Did his law firm even know about the mafia-style setup in his office? Did they know he regularly armed himself with three weapons? No one had heard anything from him since then. Only a little more than a day had passed. My eyes were still slightly irritated, though I’d forgotten all about it while I was in search of Marjorie. Some things were more important than physical pain.
Marjorie peered into the room, now dressed in one of my T-shirts and the sweats she’d been wearing earlier.
“Do you want to stop at the main house and get something else to wear?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I want to get to the hospital. I’ve been k
ept out of this loop long enough.”
I wasn’t about to argue with her.
“He’s beautiful.” Marjorie cuddled her newborn nephew in the NICU.
The baby was breathing well on his own. Sometimes, when he forgot to breathe, either Joe or Melanie or a nurse tapped his little heel and he started up again. This would get less frequent as he got older, everyone said, and he’d remember to breathe.
“Good job, man,” I said to Joe.
Despite everything else going on, Joe couldn’t stop smiling. He was so proud to be a father.
“If I’d known being a dad was this amazing, I might have done it before now,” he said.
