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They press closer together. It’s not a sense of loss coursing through me. I can’t miss what I never had. What’s it like to have that close of a relationship with a parent?
“What about you?” Brittany asks, worry in her face. “You have a gun, but you’re not bulletproof. There was no seeing who was shooting at us.”
“I’ll take care of myself. That’s what you’re paying me for.” When guilt and panic mix in Penelope’s face, I shake my head to tell her not to worry about it. I’m going to get plenty of money soon, but she doesn’t need to know about that.
Brittany pushes a hand through her hair. It fell out of its holder long ago. “Cannon, we can’t have you put yourself in danger.”
My chest tightens. My mom hasn’t shown as much concern for me in my entire life as Brittany has tonight. Guilt claws its way up my throat. I don’t want to scare her. I don’t think Roman has any ill will toward her. But I can’t know, and I don’t want to see Brittany Cowles as collateral damage.
“When do we go?” Penelope asks quietly. Her big green eyes look at me like she’ll listen to everything I say without question. She’s so damn trusting. If she learns what I’m trying to do, she won’t ever trust me again. It’s not an outcome I want, but it’s a price worth paying.
“I’ll transport you in the morning.” Color leaches from her face at my terminology. I sound like I’m driving a package a few hours away instead of taking a woman away from her life. “When we go, there’ll be little contact. I don’t know how much these guys have access to. It’s one thing to hang out by a gate and follow a delivery van in, but another to find a safe house and get close.”
“I understand,” Brittany says. “Believe me, I won’t interfere. I just want my daughter safe. I’ll talk to Peter and tell him what’s going on. Do you think he’s safe?”
I think Peter Cowles is the safest one of them.
I dip my head. My phone gives a quick buzz in my pocket. Not a message but a notification.
I slip it out and keep from smiling. Four million has landed in my account. A lot of zeros to snuff out an innocent life. A lot of zeros to prove he’s the power in the relationship. I still don’t understand, but perhaps the answer is waiting until he thinks she’s dead.
I’m aware of Penelope watching me as I pocket the phone, but another buzz gives me pause. I glance at the message
Do it before the weekend.
From the same number as the burner phone.
Baited and hooked.
I message back Done. Penelope’s gaze burns across my face. I meet her open, vulnerable eyes. “We leave in the morning.”
