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Shit—my purse.I need my phone, in case they call.A quick sprint to the bedroom, where I put Mia’s book in my purse, throw my phone in after it, and run.
I set a personal record for speed in descending a staircase and fly into the living room.
Will’s changed out of his hoodie and into a black, long-sleeved T-shirt.He has his own laptop open on the coffee table and his phone out next to the keyboard.Men’s voices come from the speaker.Evan, and somebody else.Two or three somebody else’s.I drop Ben’s laptop next to Will’s.
“I know where they are.That’s where they are.”
“Leblanc, I’m pulling up to the house.Rest of the team is two minutes out.”Evan Donovan sounds determined.
“I’ll be right there.”Will ends the call and scans the screen of Ben’s laptop.He enters the address into his phone.Then he flips his own closed, stands up, and looks me directly in the eyes.“That’s the address he sent, but they might not still be there.”
“I know that.But—”
“I’ll go with Evan and find out.You’re not coming.”
“—my dad’s not very good at this.He’ll have—what?”
“You can’t come.”He’s not kidding.Will’s expression has gone stoic and uncompromising.
“I’mdefinitelycoming.You’re out of your mind if you think I’m staying here.”
“It might be an ambush.You could get hurt.You’re not going.”
2
WILL
Bristol isall green eyes and bedhead, and if she could shoot fire out of those eyes, I’d be a little pile of ash on the beach house carpet.
Part of me absolutely thrills to her ferocity.Bristol’s a sweetheart.Making her cry is better than being in the boxing ring.It’s better than blocking a hit and giving one instead.It’s better than anything.The fact that she can stand up to me like this, with her feet planted and her jaw set, only makes it hotter that I can kiss her and hurt her and fuck her until she’s a begging wreck.
Which doesn’t matter.Not with the twins gone.ButBristolstill matters, and here she is, ready to run out the front door without looking to see who’s on the other side.
“Will.”I’ve never heard someone pack more of a warning into my name.It’s impressive.And, just this once, I’d rather she just sat on the couch and let me handle things.“I am going with you.That’s not up for debate.”
“No, what’s not up for debate is that you’re staying here with a security team, where it’s safe.”
“What makes you think it’ll be safe here?”
“The security team that’s arriving in two minutes.”
“Security teams can get ambushed, too.It’s not better ifyou’rethe one getting ambushed and I’m sitting here doing embroidery or whatever useless thing you’re picturing right now.”
“You don’t have to do embroidery, if that makes you feel better.”
Does she even know how to embroider shit?Given what I know of Bristol’s life, she hasn’t had much time for crafts.I wouldn’t put it past her to learn something like that.I wouldn’t put it past her to do anything.
Even put herself in danger.
“The only thing that’s going to make me feel better is going to find the twins.So if you’re going to stop me from doing that, then you can just—you can fuck off.”
Bristol turns on her heel, and I can’t help it.I grab for her elbow before she can take a step.Lock my grip around it.Hold her in place.
“Let me go.”
I step around in front of her instead.My hangover is back.No—that’s a fever.Or just a strange heat in my chest, working its way up toward my face.The elevated heart rate is probably from my stomach forcefully ejecting a bottle of tequila into the sink not very long ago, and from the twins getting kidnapped.I don’t know what to do with my arms.I want to cross them over my chest, or get them in front of my face, but nobody’s going to punch me.
Bristol might, I guess.
