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I step onto the plane, and in a matter of moments, the engines roar to life. The private jets have priority, but there’s still congestion as we wait our turn for takeoff. Every single minute feels like an hour, and after twenty minutes, my patience is just about at the end. As if the universe knows this very thing, we finally make our way slowly toward the runway, then begin gathering speed, racing faster and faster down the concrete path before lifting into the clear blue skies that will take me to Alexis.
Once we hit altitude, I begin laying out the plans to flush this Darwin fucker out. I send a team to get pictures of the salon and the girls’ apartment, and to collect whatever they can find that may give us any traces of this fucker before the cleaners go in. We’ll eventually need to file a police report after dealing with this shit ourselves. The cleanup crew are the best in the business; they’re the ones we call when we need something wiped up no matter how dirty, and they’ve never left so much as a fingerprint behind. I know the apartment will look like it’s brand spanking new when they are finished with their job.
I then get Cassie on the phone to see if she can help manage the story in the media. It’s a sad state of affairs when violence is so commonplace that this doesn’t even make the news unless someone pushes it out. Cassie’s our go-to gal in public relations, especially when we need someone to manage a news story or to have something leaked. She’s been working with the group for some time and can always be depended on to do an outstanding job. I give her all the details and the goal of the story, and that’s all she needs.
“It’ll be all over the press shortly, promise you,” she assures.
I don’t know who her connections are; I just know that she always comes through, and that’s all I fucking care about. Darwin needs to see that someone’s watching. If I know his type, and I do, he’ll want to flee, but not before he finishes what he started. “Thanks, Cass. Talk to you later,” I say, disconnecting and punching in the number for my next call from memory.
The line rings a few times before Claire picks up. “There’s a job in New York that I need some help with. Any chance I can get you on a flight ASAP? I need some help with a shadow game, but I’m going to be really upfront with you. It’s a deadly game. The psycho we’re looking for is bad news, as in fucking deranged, Claire. You’re the best in this business, but if you go in, I want you completely geared up, wire and all. The job pays five million clear, but only if you’re wired. If things get twisted, same as always, you stay silent, and we’ll get you out. That’s worth another five.”
“You know I’m in. Give me the details, Sheldon.”
I give her the rundown, and we talk through a plan until both of us are comfortable with the next steps. Claire runs solo and has for a long time. She belongs to no organization or team, freelancing out to whatever work she wants and whoever pays the most. Claire can do that, because her work is remarkable, and she’s damn well worth every penny that I plan to pay her out of my own pocket. “Be careful with this bastard, Claire. I’m going to send the information we have on him from intel and the pictures of what we’re dealing with in the city. I don’t think he’s going to walk away until he has what he wants or we take him out,” I state before we finalize the plans and disconnect.
I send Trent a text to find out how Alexis is doing, and his response makes me grin in spite of myself.
Trent: Getting drunk and chewing my ass right now.
I chuckle to myself because damn, she’s a handful, and it dawns on me that I wouldn’t want it any other way. Just hearing how petrified she was, knowing how close that deranged fucker was to getting close to her, told me exactly how much I care.
Me: Hang in there, Trent. Don’t tell her, but I’m on my way.
Trent: Roger that, man!
In half an hour, I look down at the incoming text from Nick. He hasn’t said a word about Allie since clocking Kenneth for commenting on her ass, and I haven’t pushed. He’ll talk when he gets ready, but something has him twisted where she’s concerned, and his message confirms it.
Nick: How’s Allie?
I grin, sending the same question to Trent and Liam and laugh at the almost immediate response from Trent.
Trent: Not drunk but chewing my ass.
I give Nick an update, letting him know the girls are both safe and our plans for the rest of the day before he disconnects to keep things in order in Italy. I glance down at my cell and smile thinking about the girls both giving Trent hell. I’ll have to take him and Liam out for a drink and get to know them better when we get this resolved because I personally appreciate all the crap they’re having to deal with from the ladies right now. I send him a quick message and then pull up the plans.
Me: I have faith that you can handle the situation.
I go through the details once more, making sure each step is solid, and it is. This Darwin fucker is good or he wouldn’t have been able to get into the salon and then double back to the apartment. At the time the team was the shortest, he knew and took full advantage. I can only assume he has eyes on the girls and knows exactly where they are now. We’ll figure out how he knew, and we’ll be better.
I layer a few more details into the plan and am just getting ready to check in with Nick to make sure things are going well for the family when Trent’s message comes through.
Trent: The fucker just called Alexis on her cell. He said, I hope you enjoyed your newly decorated walls, Alexis.
I read and reread the text from Trent
This sick fuck is going to be sorry he ever set eyes on Alexis, or any of the other girls he’s ever hurt. I’ll make goddamn sure of that. I send a message to one of the members of the New York team with a list of weapons and equipment to procure and have on the ready for our teams when they arrive in the city. This latest stunt of his just confirms my suspicions. He’s not about to give up getting to Lexie. I get Nick on the phone, and we agree that this fucker just crossed the line of no return, and there’s not a chance in hell we’re about to let him kidnap either of these ladies for the underground slave trade.
It’shours later when the plane lands. I get a message from Liam letting me know the girls are both fast asleep and that Alexis is sleeping off her tequila. When we needed more men, Chase put in a call to the head of security for his father-in-law, Carlos Larussio, and had Tommy and Frankie, two of his men, meet me at the airport. They’ve been on the ground with our team since then, and they fill me in on all the details since Lex arrived back in the city while we wait for Claire’s plane to land.
When it does, she walks off it, looking like the badass she is wearing her signature jeans and silver-tipped, steel-toed boots that can leave a man dead with one kick to his windpipe. She saunters down the ramp, and her long blonde hair—even pulled back in a ponytail—blows in the night’s breeze.
I take her bag as we walk to the car together. “Hop in the back,” I tell her, tossing the duffle in the trunk before sliding into the back seat with her.
“Claire, this is Frankie and Tommy, a couple of our team members from right here in the city,” I inform her, leaving out the fact that they’re part of the Larussio mafia family and sent in as backup for us courtesy of Chase Prestian. “Guys, this is Claire. I’ve worked with her on and off for years. She’ll be running decoy on the job. Let’s get to the towers,” I tell Frankie, who’s driving.
Her intent eyes track us all. “We have a room for you at The Prestian Towers,” I tell her.
Claire has always been on the thoughtful and quiet side. She simply nods, taking it all in stride.
