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“See, I’m not that inclined to believe you know nothing seeing as you are the head of Russo’s security, are you not?” I step in front of him. “See, I think you’re going to know a whole lot of interesting stuff, and I think if you ever want to see your pretty wife and kids again, you’re going to tell me everything I want to know.”
He blanches. “I can’t. Russo will kill me.”
“If you don’t tell us, I’ll let Tommy over here kill you, and do you see that table over there?” I point toward the expansive table of tools he always keeps on hand for moments just like these.
Andrew pales further and nods.
“Tommy here will use every single one of those instruments on you until your body can’t handle anymore and you die of exhaustion.”
“Please, I have a family. Angelo sold a guy’s wife and children last week for crossing him. I can’t do that to them.”
In the background, I hear a heavy thud and when I turn around, Storm’s fist is meeting the concrete wall for a second time. Tommy is standing in the corner, looking more murderous than I’ve ever seen him. There are things in his past he hasn’t even told us, and he likely won’t ever share with anyone, but every time we come across human trafficking, he becomes even more psycho than normal.
I take a deep breath and wait for Storm to stop hitting the wall like it’s a punching bag and turn back to us. “What do you want to do?” I ask.
“We’ll get you out of Chicago. You and your family. New names. Enough money to start a new life. But only if you can tell us everything you know about our missing shipment, about Russo’s trafficking operation, and any information you have about plans to take a girl Angelo has his eyes on,” Storm lists. It wouldn’t be the first time we’d helped one of his men get the hell out of dodge, and it probably won’t be the last.
Andrew nods. “Thank you. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know if you can guarantee their safety.”
Storm taps on his phone for a few minutes, glancing over the file on the small table beside him before shoving his phone into his jacket pocket. “It’s being organized. By the time you get out of this room, your new passports will be ready and a jet is on standby at the airport to take you anywhere you want to go.”
“Tell me about the woman.” The words leave my mouth the moment Storm stops talking. As much as I want to know about the shipment and the operation we’ve been trying to take down for years, all I can think about is making sure Emerson is safe, making sure we are prepared to protect her against whatever Russo is going to throw at us next.
“He’s been talking about needing a woman to give him heirs to pass the Russo name down to. Something about this redhead that worked at the club really got under his skin. He’s been obsessed with her for a few months, but only started making moves in the last few weeks. He’s had people following her and when she rejected his advances recently he lost it, and when the men tailing her told him she was involved with you, he started making moves to take her.” The grimace on his face tells me all I need to know about his loyalties. He doesn’t like what his boss does, and it makes me feel better about letting this fucker live. “He’s fucking furious about you murdering Kevin. The only reason he hasn’t made a move is because he knows you’re expecting it. He wants to hit you hard, and he can’t do that when the element of surprise is gone. He has people tailing your whole family, and if he can’t get to your woman, he’s going to go after your sisters.”
The sound that tears from Storm’s throat is a roar of pure anger, and a moment later he’s on the phone. “Castle protocol,” he growls at whoever is on the other end of the line and ends the call.
We’re going into lockdown.
35
Emerson
Rayne paces up and down my office like a caged animal. A mixture of rage and terror dances in his eyes, only making me more nervous as I pack up my desk.
He arrived twenty minutes ago and spoke to my dad, asking if I could work from home for the foreseeable future, spouting some shit about how he was worried for my safety after the attack at the gala.
I don’t question him though. Not when he looks like he’s about to lose his mind with worry. I just gather my laptop and files, making sure I have everything I need before picking up the box I’ve thrown it all in and crossing to where he stands. “I’m ready.”
Rayne lets out a sigh of relief and takes the box from me. “Come on, let’s go.”
I nod and trail after him, trying to avoid the curious glances of the kids in the gym. I don’t want them to be worried about me, and I don’t want them to think they can’t reach out just because I’m not here.
“Take care of her,” my dad says to Rayne before pulling me into his arms.
“I will. Nothing is going to happen to her on my watch,” he promises my father.
“Make sure you let the kids know they can call me whenever. I’m still working, I’m just not here.”
“I know, Em. I’ve got a stack of your cards I’m going to give to the kids as they come in. They’ll be fine, and so will the Center. Don’t worry about it.” Dad squeezes my shoulders but he seems just as hesitant as I am to pull away. He finally lets me go and gives Rayne a meaningful look. It’s always been us against the world, ever since my mom left, but he doesn’t seem hesitant to entrust Rayne with my safety.
We say a quick goodbye and I wave to the kids before crossing the street to Rayne’s SUV. The moment our doors are closed, I turn to him, waiting for him to give me something… anything.
He puts the car into drive, his fingers wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel his knuckles turn white. Part of me desperately wants to know what the fuck is happening, but the other part, the part that can sense how on edge Rayne is, would like to remain blissfully unaware.
“We’re going into lockdown. My parents are driving out to the country house, which is basically Fort Knox as we speak, and Storm, Wynter, and Snow are currently moving into the penthouse. We have a protocol for when there’s a threat and we’ve enacted it.”
“A threat?” I whisper. I know I don’t want the answer to the question, that no good can come from knowing, but I ask anyway.
