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That was the best news I could get for now. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to make a break for it. He’s never been one to follow orders.” He’d never been expected to as the youngest.
“It’s a good thing he didn’t. There was hardly anyone around to help him, and I’m assuming he doesn’t have any resources with him.”
“Franco is smart enough to have made sure he doesn’t have money or a phone or anything that could help him if he escaped.” The words sounded as if they’d come from someone else. I was having to distance all my feelings and all my fears from the part of me that was going to take action.
Ghost nodded. “That’s what we’re going to assume.”
Rhys turned to me. “Is Franco bold enough to bring Arturo onto ranch property?”
I nodded. “Our best advantage is that Franco believes he’s invincible. He truly thinks he can best me, even in hand-to-hand combat.”
Rhys snorted. “That fucker is going to learn he’s made a serious mistake.”
“Our number one priority is that Arturo isn’t hurt.” When everyone agreed, I continued. “The next priority is capturing Franco alive so he can be interrogated. Whoever gets to my brother first needs to be gentle with him. He’s probably going to act like he doesn’t want any help, but I know he’s terrified.”
“We’re going to take care of him,” Grant assured me.
“Our job is to protect people, remember?” Rhys said. “We were hired to protect you, and we’re extending that to your brother.”
“I don’t need—”
“You sure as fuck do, so let us all do our jobs.”
Ghost’s eyes widened, and he looked between the two of us.
“That’s impressive. It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve seen you.”
He and Rogue looked at each other then, and a knowing smile passed between them. Something was up. As soon as my brother was safe, Rhys and I would figure it out. I didn’t trust Ghost any more than Rhys did, and I wasn’t going to let anything happen to his twin.
Grant focused his attention on Ghost. “How the hell did you get here so fast? Weren’t you in DC?”
“No, I was closer than that, and I don’t have to worry about speeding tickets.”
Rhys glared at him. “Just because you’re Mr. FBI doesn’t—”
“Can we please make a fucking plan? My brother is out there, and his life is in danger.”
Rhys moved closer to me. “What’s the best way for us to cover all possible approaches?” Grant gestured for Ghost to take point.
“Are we going to assume they’re coming to the ranch?”
Ghost turned to me for guidance. I had to make a call, but I hated that I was gambling with Arturo’s life. “How likely is it that Franco has found out I’m not on my way to Chicago?”
“Not likely. He’s been limiting contact, and like you said, he thinks everyone will ultimately do his bidding, so he expects your father to succeed in getting you there.”
“Then I think he’ll come here. I think he’ll want to”—again I forced myself to push away all the feelings that threatened to overwhelm me. I had to function like the cold killer I was—“kill Arturo here so he doesn’t have to move the body.”
Color drained from Rogue’s face. “Jesus. I guess y’all are all used to”—he gestured around—“all this, but… how can you say things like that?”
“It’s the only way you can function in situations like this,” Rhys said.
I was thankful he understood.
Grant nodded. “You learn to do it because you have to.”
“Because if you don’t, you won’t survive,” Ghost added.
30
