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Yet that freedom was for nothing because we currently sat in the back of an SUV with guns trained on us and no idea where we were going or why. I’d run through various reasons in my head but kept landing on me. It had to do with me.
30
TRISTAN
I’d read how when people were staring down the barrel of a gun or saw a car heading right for them, any kind of traumatic event, their life flashed before their eyes. Those moments hadn’t happened to me until now. And I had to say, the only thing flashing before my eyes was losing the ones I loved. I’d gladly take a bullet if it meant they were okay.
The SUV bumped along the road as we got to the far edge of East Dremest. Stopping in front of a row home, I wondered what we were doing here. Didn’t bad guys take their victims to run-down warehouses? This home had a light on outside and a summery wreath hanging on the door. Was there a person inside with a glue gun and ribbons ready to hurt us?
Doors opened and we were told to get moving. Dash went first, trying to keep the guns on him, but there were three big guys who were pointing their guns at all of us.
The street was eerily quiet. Given the late hour, it wasn’t surprising. I still would have thought I’d see lights on inside homes. It was a Saturday night.
We were ushered inside the home through the front door. The scent of cinnamon greeted us, making me ponder if a crafterlived here after all. What kind of killers had their house smelling like this?
Past stairs leading upward, down a dark hallway, we were walked by gunpoint into an eat-in kitchen where a dining table sat and a man with short dark hair was sharpening a knife. At first, the similarities didn’t register but when he lifted his head, his eyes spearing us, I realized this man was related to Romeo.
“Sit,” the man bit out.
We did, each of us with a gun pointed at the backs of our skulls. Dash opened his mouth like he was about to protest but a short shake of the head from Romeo had Dash pressing his lips together.
The man with the knife studied Romeo, his eyes narrowing. “If it isn’t my nephew. I didn’t realize I had one until I saw you on the news with these two.” He motioned to Dash and me with his knife. “You look like the others in our family, though your jaw isn’t as sharp. My guess is you lean a bit toward your mother in that respect. I tried to find my brother after seeing you. I have no children of my own and Malik and I are the only siblings. That left him as being your father. After a bit of digging, I learned he’s dead. It seems someone tried to break into the home he never stayed in. The one that was more of a prop than anything else. I know this because I went there. There were minimal personal belongings. It was staged. And the crime… My guess was staged as well.”
“What do you want from me?” Romeo asked.
“One, you will address me as sir. My brother might not have wanted anything to do with you but you’re part of our family and, as such, you will be expected to interact, especially with my mother.”
I thought Romeo would argue about being part of this fucked-up family, but instead his eyes widened. “I have a grandmother?”
The man tsked. “If you’d like to get technical, Malik was my half brother. Fathered by the same man, different mother. Family, nonetheless. Your grandmother is in a nursing home in West Dremest. The death of her son, even though not by blood, was so traumatizing, after learning the news she suffered a stroke and requires care twenty-four seven.”
“You didn’t have to bring me here by gunpoint to get me to meet my family.”
The man lifted the knife and drove it into the table where it vibrated through the wood. “If you’re anything like my brother, you don’t do things the easy way. I refuse to take chances given who protects you. I’m not a stupid man. I’m aware of your guard detail and where you live. The only chance of me getting to you was when you were out of the house and not at that club you work at.” He leaned over and spit on the floor. I flinched back, not wanting it to hit me since I was closest to him on that side. He sneered at me but focused on Romeo again. “Jordan Altair is currently scraping the bodies of his men off the floor and no doubt frantically looking for you three. I leave no trail, not even on camera so he won’t find you here. And if you think he can track your phone, he can’t. Not with the technology I have blocking the signal and location.”
“What do you want from me?”
I looked at Romeo and not with a passing glance. His chest rose and fell faster with each breath. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. He was moments away from a full-blown panic attack and if Dash or I moved, we could be shot.
My eyes met Dash’s across the table. He very subtly shook his head, seeing what I did.
“You have money that should be within my family, not with you,” the man seethed. “Malik abandoned us decades ago, choosing an Altair instead of his blood. He should have helped our parents afford their care. My father withered away fromAlzheimer’s, draining our bank accounts to pay the nursing home. I did what I had to and started my own business. Malik wasn’t the only one with connections. Your money will help take care of my mother for the rest of her life. And me.”
“I’ll pay for her care, but you have to let Dash and Tristan go.”
“I would have thought he taught you better. You don’t make demands when you’re the one being held hostage. Not only are you going to transfer your wealth to me, but I’m going to demand the same of Jordan.”
I almost laughed. No one made demands of Jordan. He liked Romeo but Romeo could only push him so far. And Jordan’s son wasn’t even an exception. He cared for him, loved him.
“You can have my money,” Dash cut in. “Let Romeo and Tristan go. I have more than them.”
The man leveled Dash with a glare. “As enticing as you think that is, no. You’re my bargaining chip to get my nephew to do what I want. After that, you’re disposable. I can kill you and Tristan and not give a fuck about the loss of life.”
“I won’t give you a dime unless you promise not to harm them,” Romeo said with more steel in his voice than before.
“How long have you had Jordan watching over you and still you think you can trust the promise of a criminal? I’ve killed people for looking at me wrong.” He planted his hands on the table, pushed his chair back, scraping the feet over the tile floor, and stood. “I’m done with this conversation.”
“Wait,” I said, trying to think of a way to draw this out. The longer he talked, the less action he took. There had to be some way to buy us time. To keep us at this table, uninjured, until Jordan got here. And he would come. Not for me but for Romeo. Jordan would get here. It was only a matter of time.
