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“What happened?” I croak.
“Nothing, it’s nothing to worry about.” Patricia straightens her shoulders back and smiles, but it’s forced and makes my heart pound faster than ever—I feel like I could pass out. “Cade was pulled over on the way home for a busted taillight and they’re holding him because they say there’s a warrant out for his arrest.” Her smile is so fake it’s unreal, but she plasters it on anyway and smoothes her already perfect bun in place then returns to the oven.
“What?” Kitty yells. “That’s bullshit. What warrant?” She follows her mom into the kitchen as I plunk my ass down in the chair. “We’d know if there was a warrant out on him. Raisin’s boyfriend would have told us.”
Cade is in jail?
Unease slithers up my spine.
If he’s not here and Lucas is with him and by this time, Aidan O’Donnelly could have informed my father about my presence in the city, that means we’re alone. That means when Cade promised me I was safe, it’s likely that I’m not.
That we’re not.
“I know, Catriona, but calm down. Lucas says he’s handling this and I know he’ll do us proud. Cade will be home tonight. There’s no need for your concern.”
Kitty growls, “Did the NYPD—”
The doorbell rings, cutting her off, and all three of us look at each other.
God, it feels like a scene fromScream.
“Relax, both of you. Let me handle this.” Patricia holds up her hands as Kitty grabs her phone, her eyes narrowing at the screen. That’s when I realize they have a camera app on the door.
“I don’t know who they are,” she mutters, flashing me the footage on the app.
“Wait, let me see.” Taking the phone, I enlarge the image and see a man in a black trench coat. “I don’t know him either.”
“Good, so stay here. Just wait, it’ll be another of Raisin’s deliveries,” Patricia says with a bright, unconvincing smile. The most unconvincing part of it is that she grabs the Glock from the table and flicks the safety off then tucks it into the back of her jeans.
I can’t let her endanger herself, though. I’ve no reason to believe those men are anyone other than well-dressed delivery guys too, but… “I think we should stay on the safe side and not answer the door until Lucas and Cade are back. Just ignore whoever that—” The doorbell rings again and then, there’s the sound of loud pounding.
“FBI. Open up.”
My eyes flare wide, and Kitty and Patricia gape at one another.
“Oh, God,” I whisper, my heart racing so hard I’m starting to sweat.
“Relax.” She looks at both of us. “I know how to handle the feds.”
The feds?Where’s the cozy little baker I first met? Suddenly, I’m dealing with the wife and mother of mobsters—I need some of her courage.
Apparently, Kitty does too because, her fingers flying on her cell phone, she mutters, “Ma, maybe weshouldwait for Cade and Luc—”
“No, I’ll handle this, Catriona,” Patricia scolds, walking out the door and into the hallway before calling back, “This isnotmy first rodeo.”
“Do you have another gun?” I question Kitty, who’s grabbing a bat from behind the buffet.
“No, just stay behind me,” she orders, starting for the door, but I snag a hold of her arm.
“Kitty, stop. We need another gun. Trust me. I can shoot.”
“If I arm you,” she retorts, “and theyarethe feds, then you’ll be charged for possessing an unlicensed firearm. Mom’sislicensed”
“FBI.” It’s practically a scream, and both of us jolt in surprise when there’s an explosive noise that feels like it tears through the house itself.
Upon running into the hallway, we’re in time to see Patricia being knocked into the wall with the force of the battering ram breaching the door.
“You fucker,” Kitty snarls, taking the man in black by surprise as her bat connects with his face. Her loud cursing and crazy energy that reminds me of Dolly is almost soothing as I drop to my knees beside Patricia.
