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"They were a big problem." Dimitri shrugs.
Dillon rubs a hand across his jaw, trying to hide a smile. "Just tell me what you know about how they got their hands on Aurora."
"Someone let them into the house."
Dillon and I both turn as Aurora steps into the room from the kitchen, my phone clutched in her hands. I take one look at the tears drying on her cheeks and take off toward her.
"My dad wants to talk to you," she whispers, her bottom lip quivering when I reach her side.
I ignore the phone for the moment, more worried about her than anything else. I tilt her face up to me, carefully drying her cheeks. "Are you okay, starlight?"
"Yeah." She nods, giving me a tremulous smile. "Hearing his voice was just emotional, that's all."
"Shit. I should have stayed with you." I thought she might want privacy, but I didn't consider that she might need emotional support. Clearly, I'm an asshole. I need to learn to take better care of her. I'm not doing a great job so far.
"It's okay. I'm okay."
I pull her into my arms, pressing my lips to her forehead. "You're the strongest person I know, little warrior."
She burrows into me with a soft sigh.
I take the phone from her, putting it to my ear. "You wanted to speak to me?"
"You're in love with my daughter," Chris Branson growls. "I heard every fucking word you just said to her."
"Then you know she's perfectly safe with me."
"Goddammit."
"We can discuss it later. The sheriff is here."
"Jason Montoya is sending his jet for me. I'll be there by 1am. Don't let her out of your fucking sight until then."
"Don't plan on it."
"Take care of her."
"Like my life depends on it," I vow, pretty sure it actually does depend on it. Not because Chris Branson will kill me but because losing her might. She's been mine for less than a day, and I already don't know how to live without her.
I disconnect and slip the phone back into my pocket before tipping my head down to her. "You're safe with me, starlight. I won't let anything happen to you."
"I know." She pulls back to look up at me, her pale blue eyes rimmed in red and still so fucking beautiful.
Dillon clears his throat behind us.
I sigh heavily and reluctantly release Aurora before turning to face him.
"Hi, Dillon," she says quietly, sticking close to my side.
"Hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice gentle. "I'm so fucking sorry I wasn't able to bring you home a long time ago. I hope you know we haven't stopped trying."
Aurora nods, swallowing hard. "Constantine told me."
"Are you all right?"
She nods again.
"Can you tell me what happened to you?"
"I woke up locked in a bedroom in Victor Carmona's house. He said if I escaped, he'd kill my dad and everyone else who matters to me," she mumbles. "Um, he kept me pretty drugged for the first few days. I don't really remember much, but he kept saying I'd go home as soon as my dad paid the fee."
"The ransom?" Dillon confirms.
"Yes. Except someone else picked up the money and they don't know who. They assumed you had people watching the area and were waiting for an opening to go in. By the time they got there, the money was gone."
"They wanted it thrown in the recycling," Dillon says. "We had units at the plant, but the truck went off course two miles outside of the gates. By the time we got someone over there, the money and the driver were both gone. We assumed we fucked up. It wasn't exactly a traditional ransom exchange. Your dad was adamant about us playing by their rules for your protection."
"It wasn't them," Aurora says. "Victor questioned me for hours about who my dad would have trusted with the details of the exchange."
"Who is on that list?"
"You, Millie Audley, Jude Despora, Cormac Carmichael, Finn Taylor, Judge Hyde, my uncle Brady, but we haven't heard from him in a long time. We think he may have been killed by one of the MCs he double-crossed." She shrugs helplessly.
"Not exactly an untrustworthy bunch," Dante muses.
Aurora grimaces.
"What's that look?" Dillon asks.
"Millie," she whispers, pressing her palm to her head. "I think…I think maybe she was there the night they kidnapped me?" Her lips purse, her eyes narrowing as she tries to focus. "I keep dreaming about her and I don't know why, but in my dreams, I'm in my bathroom, and the door is broken. I have a hanger. She's there, and I'm angry at her." She glances at Dillon, perplexed. "Maybe it's just a dream."
Dillon's grim expression says otherwise. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone before pulling something up on the screen and starting across the living room toward us. He stops a few paces away, hesitating. And then reluctantly turns the phone around so we can see the screen.
