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“What’s your plan, O?”
“Shit, I hate it when you call me that.”
“I hate it when you act like it. We’re a long ways away from our law school days, but still, you manage to track bullshit up and through our lives. I need you to wipe your fucking feet. You’re dirtying up my house, O.”
“For fuck’s sake, Rex, don’t go cold on me. I’m making it right. Keep the originals. That’s for if Lorenzo gets his hands on me, you can still make good on my word to the feds. You can read my shorthand. You know me and can decipher it all for them. Some of your clients may pop up as well.”
“Are you trying to get me disbarred? What the fuck have you been up to inourFUCKING FIRM!” I slam my fists against the steering wheel.
“Okay, listen, just listen. I’ll explain it all if I get through this, but we don’t have time for that now. I’m still out with the nurse, and I’m making my way east. There’s a friend of mine who can run my information through several agencies. I want them all fighting over me so it’s in their best interest to keep me alive and protected. If you don’t hear from me in the next few days, you take that box and find this guy named Chuck Barrose. He’s an agent working between the two counties. Keep Raina safe and I’ll check back in–”
He’s about to hang up the phone when I see Raina’s name and number flash across the screen.
“Yeah, baby girl,” I reply after swiping my screen to answer her call.
“Daddy,” her voice quivers, and I throw the car into drive, speeding to the tattoo shop.
“What’s wrong? Raina, talk to me,” I command her as I try my best not to endanger the other drivers on the road. One sharp left, a right, and then a straight shot to the shop where I barely let the car stop moving before I slam it into park.
“I just need you to come, okay?” Raina squeaks out before disconnecting the call.
I’m already here, baby girl.
There’s a Ruger and ankle holster in my glove box that I put on before I get out. Each step I take toward the shop has my heart thumping against my chest. But I stop in my tracks when I look through the large front window.
“So she’s callingyou, Daddy? What the fuck, Rex?” Owen says from the phone.
“She’s in trouble because of you. Don’t pull this territorial shit with me, Owen. I’m taking care of her. I have been and will continue to do so. Right now, I’m looking into the tattoo shop where she works. Guess who’s inside?”
He snarls on the other end of the line. “For fuck’s sake. How did he find her so quick?”
I try to keep my anger in check. “Do you actually realize that you leaving a hospital with broken bones, a nurse helping you along the way, and trying to duck out of a federal agent detail draws a shitload of attention? Let’s not forget that heading straight to our office, only to make your way to Raina’s apartment, is probably the reason why I’m staring at Lorenzo Carlyle standing in a tattoo shop where Raina works.”
“Listen, Rex–”
I cut him off. “I’m done listening, Owen. I’m calling the police–”
“Wait, shit. Wait, don’t. See what he wants and let me work on something. I swear, Rex. I’m going to fix this, and I don’t need local police fucking it up.”
“You have twenty minutes, Owen. If I don’t get some sort of signal from you by then, I’m calling the police and you’d better pray that no one gets hurt because of your bullshit.” I end the call without letting him reply.
I call Raina back. This time, Lorenzo answers her phone, which makes my blood boil.
“Ah, Mr. Olsen. It seems that we have a discussion that needs finishing. I implore you to come down to your daughter’s work so we may finish this like men.” Lorenzo’s voice is calm, and I’m not sure what to say. I don’t want to give him the impression that I’m Owen.
“This is Rex Remington, Mr. Carlyle. Owen’s partner at the firm. Is there something I can do for you that will persuade you to let Raina and the owners of that shop walk out of there? Surely, you’re not holding them hostage.”
“That’s a dangerous accusation, Mr. Remington. They’re all fine. Now, as I see things, the shop is open for business. The owners have clients and things to tattoo while Raina is simply keeping me company as a receptionist does. No one’s being held hostage, but they can’t just walk out of the shop during business hours. No, no. They’ll stay put until Owen drags thatbrokenfucking leg down here to talk to me.”
He’s smart and I don’t want to play games with this guy. Still, I have to stall on the off-chance that Owen can do something right and figure a way out of this.
“How about I come inside for us to discuss the situation like gentlemen?”
“It’s a free fucking country, Remington.”
He ends the call and hands the phone back to Raina. I’m not going to leave her in there with this lunatic.
The chime above the door grates my nerves because how dare it be so cheerful when this jackal of a human is standing there, reeking of intimidation?
