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“We’re together,” Rhys said. “Get over it.”
Grant snorted. “You think I didn’t know that?”
Rogue rolled his eyes, and Grant turned his attention to me. “If you hurt my brother, you will be sorry. I don’t care what kind of big-time assassin you are, or who your family is, or—”
I raised my hands in surrender. “I have no intention of hurting him, but for the record, if it came to it, I could kick your ass.”
“You want to find out now?”
Rogue snorted. “Could y’all stop with the posturing. Rhys is happy with him.”
Grant studied Rhys for a moment. “Is that true?”
“It is. Though I’d be happier if we’d already eliminated this fucking cousin of his.”
“We’ll take care of it,” Grant said, and I knew he’d accepted me being with Rhys for the time being. “I assume this isn’t the vital information you needed to share.”
I shook my head. “My cousin has abducted my youngest brother.”
After filling Grant in on what I knew, I called X, and we brought him into the conversation. He gave us more details on what he knew and insisted we still needed to sit tight until his contacts found out more, but now that I wasn’t tangled up with Rhys, it was all I could do to sit still. I needed to act.
“My brother is out there. He’s alone and scared.”
“I know,” Grant said. “But the best way to keep him safe is to wait until we have a clear plan.”
My logical side knew he was right, but it didn’t stop the rest of me from feeling like I had to leave to search for him myself.
“We’ll find him, and we’ll take care of him,” Rhys said, laying a hand on my arm.
Rogue laughed as he gestured to us. “See? I told you. They’re perfect for each other.”
Rhys and his brothers gave me all the hard work I could have asked for to keep me busy. By the end of the day, my arms and back were aching, I’d been forced into close contact with a number of horses, and I knew more than I ever wanted to about the inner workings of tractors.
My phone was ringing when I stepped out of a long shower during which I’d thought of at least fifty ways I could kill Franco. I picked it up expecting it to be Rhys calling to bitch at me for being late to dinner. It was my father.
My heart slammed against my chest. Had he gotten news about Arturo? If my brother was hurt or… dead, I wasn’t going to forgive myself for not going after him myself.
As soon as I answered, my father said, “Get on the next plane home. I need you here.”
His voice was oddly monotone. All my senses went on alert. “Why? What’s changed?”
My father hesitated, something he never did. “I don’t trust these men you’ve sent. They aren’t working fast enough.”
His voice still didn’t sound right. “Are you in trouble?”
“Of course I’m in trouble. My son has been taken.”
That sounded more like him, but why would he suddenly want me there?
“Have you seen any sign of Franco?”
“No…” Again he hesitated. “Only some of his henchmen.”
What was going on? Was he somehow being forced to call me? Did Franco want me there? Did it matter? If me showing up in Chicago was the only way to save Arturo and take Franco down, then I’d go. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thank you, son.”
Even if nothing else had tipped me off that something was wrong, my father ending the call like that would have done the job. The call was not what it seemed, but what I didn’t know was whether it was orchestrated by Franco or my father himself. Was that my father’s attempt to sound afraid, to make me think he really needed me? Had he made a deal with someone?
