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“You think you are so fucking smart? No one gives a shit about the spare. You are nothing. Never was. Never will be. Those girls deserve better than a second-rate nobody and when I get my hands on their trust, you’ll never see them again.”
The line went dead before anyone could utter a word.
“Oh God,” Linsey gasped, turning to Fury. Grabbing him by his suit jacket, she cried. “She’s going to destroy those girls. You have to do something. I can’t. I’m not their parent, but you can. Please, Fury. Please. I know you said you wouldn’t interfere, but I am asking you to. Only you can stop her. I need you to claim the girls.”
Fury wrapped his arms around my woman, hugging her close, before looking at Montana and nodding. “Do it. Have Happy send the paperwork.”
Montana said nothing as he reached for his phone, walking away.
“Mercy?” Fury questioned.
“On it,” the brother said, doing the same.
Stepping closer, I extended my hand as Fury clasped it. “I know that wasn’t easy for you. Thank you, brother.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Until the girls are safely back with Linsey, let’s hold off celebrating.”
“Agreed. Now, can I have my woman back?”
Fury laughed as I pulled Linsey into my arms.
By the time we made it back to the penthouse, Linsey was beside herself. As soon as we walked into our home, she ran for the stairs, hiding herself away in our bedroom. Every time I checked on her, she said nothing as she stared out the window, looking over the vast city.
Every call we made to locate the girls turned up nothing. It was as if the girls had vanished into thin air. Even when Montana’s mother, Virginia Stone, showed up at CPS the next morning with her legal team in tow, she learned that CPS had no file on the Duchene children and no agent knew anything about them. To make matters worse, she learned that the New York City police were also unaware of any custody battle regarding the children.
The security video revealed two NYC police officers escorting a CPS agent into the penthouse and leaving with the girls. Though Virginia got their names and badge I.D.’s, it was quickly learned that their identities were fake.
Someone had kidnapped the girls.
George Stone, Montana’s father, along with his mother, called in a family friend by the name of Nathan Montoya, a detective in the NYC Special Crimes Unit. The man came in heavy knowing this case was high profile and left nothing to chance. Within an hour, they uploaded the girls’ faces onto the missing and exploited children’s website and issued an AMBER Alert nationwide because of who they were. Montoya also called the Denver Police and demanded that they arrest Agatha Blackwell and her son on suspicion of abducting, kidnapping, and extorsion. Virginia took off with her legal team and found a judge to revoke the Blackwell’s passports, then alerted the FAA. Through it all, I watched as my new family moved heaven and earth to help the woman I loved.
“Dad?”
Seeing my daughter standing before me, I didn’t think. Grabbing her, I held her tight as I hugged her. Thankful that she was safe and in my arms. I wanted so much to give Linsey the same thing and only prayed that I could deliver on my promise. Those girls were everything to Linsey. The only reminder of the sister she lost. Linsey loved those girls as if she gave birth to them herself. Not having them here was slowly killing my woman.
“Dad, call Sypher.”
“What?”
“You always told me that if I ever got stumped and couldn’t figure out a problem, that Sypher would know how to help me. Why don’t you call him?”
“Baby girl, this isn’t a school problem. Sypher can’t help me with this.”
“Maybe he can. There is no harm in asking.”
Looking at my daughter, I wondered what I ever did to deserve her. She was everything beautiful and innocent in this world. Giving her a kiss on the cheek, I got to my feet and walked over to Montana and Mercy, who were sitting at the kitchen table. Both men had laptops in front of them as they quietly discussed every possibility, every angle. Sitting down at the table, I cleared my voice. “I may know someone who can help, but I need your okay to call him.”
Montana leaned back in the chair, studying my face. “You want to call Sypher.”
“Yes.”
“The kid that good?”
“Better.”
“Can he be discreet?”
I smiled at that. “The kid is a goth Montana. Discreet isn’t in his vocabulary, but if anyone can figure out who it was that walked into my home and took my girls, he can.”
