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“Copy,” he said.
Sawyer’s footsteps pounded down the hallway and stairs to the second floor.
“Check drawers and pockets,” I said.
“He’s got so many damn suits,” he said over the rustling of him going through them.
“Only thirty more seconds,” Grace said, the fear now evident in her voice.
I tunneled my hands through my hair, desperately needing him to find something.
“Check his sock drawer,” Saint chimed in. “I hide everything in mine.”
“Noted,” Sawyer said.
I scrubbed my hands up and down my face, knowing our plan had been destined to fail.
“Nothing but his underwear,” Sawyer said.
“Get out of there,” I said.
“What?” all three of them said.
“Get out. Saint, wait for him to be in his room then turn the power back on.”
“Ten more seconds,” Sawyer pleaded, still fumbling through drawers.
“Get back to your room!” I ordered.
“I’m so sorry,” Sawyer said.
“You didn’t do this!” I snapped. “Hedid.”
Everyone was silent.
Grace’s eyes were down. Lights switched on and Sawyer and Saint looked just as pissed as me.
“Goddamnit!”
One of my teammates poked his head out of his room. “You all right, man?”
“Fine,” I said to him. “I gotta go,” I said to Grace and my brothers before hanging up on all three of them.
They’d looked to me for answers. They expected me to be able to fix any situation. They relied on me, but I failed. We had one shot. And I blew it. How had my father ever expected me to run his company? I couldn’t even bring down the man who killed him.
My phone pinged and I looked at my screen. Sawyer had sent me the photos of my mother’s will. I tucked my phone into my pocket in no mood to deal with that shit tonight. She likely left everything to Sawyer anyway. He was her favorite. All I’d been over the past three years was an asshole who treated her like crap. Now, I couldn’t even save her when I knew I was the only one who could.
CHAPTER 45
Grace
Yesterday had been a disaster. Now, we were no closer to exposing Martine,andSeren had gone MIA. I knew he was disappointed. We all were. But we needed to stick together—not avoid each other.
“Grace, would you mind helping with Otto?”
I glanced to Jose, the trainer in the water where I stood with a bucket of fish. “You bet,” I said, hurrying toward him.
“You okay?” he asked.
