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“What?”
“Please go home. Your father is furious that you left.”
I let his words sink in for a few moments before the reason he’s here finally hits me. He didn’t miss me. He was sent by my father!
“Oh my god. You’re here because he thoughtyoucould convince me to move back home?”
“Yes.”
A puff of nonhumorous laughter escapes me. “Well, the answer is no, so you can leave now.”
I walk over to grab the door and start closing it in his face, but he just leans a shoulder into it, not moving an inch.
“Please, Lyla. Your father is fucking insane. He kidnapped our prospect and said that he can’t come home until you do.”
“He did what now?”
“Isaac kidnapped our prospect. He’s just a kid, only eighteen years old. RJ’s his sponsor, and he’s sort of like my brother Colt’s stepson. They’re holding him at the Devil Hounds’ clubhouse right now. Thane is there too.”
All I can do at first is shake my head because I have no words. When I finally do find them, they explode out of me. “I can’t believe him! The man has obviously lost his mind!”
“So, will you go home? Please?”
I groan and go sit on the living room sofa. “He kidnapped a friend of yours to force this. I hate having to give in to him!”
“I know you do. It’s messed up,” Barrett agrees when he follows me. He kneels on the carpet in front of me with his hands gently resting on my knees. “But Lyla, I don’t know what else to do. Could you just go home until he lets Jordan go? Then you can do whatever the hell you want.”
Staring down at his handsome face, his dreamy eyes, it’s hard to refuse the man anything.
“I guess…I guess I can do that.”
“Thank you,” he says, giving my knees a squeeze.
Then I can’t help but blurt out, “Why haven’t you called? Not that I would’ve answered, but you said you were going to, and you didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you would answer or ignore me, and the thought of being blown off without a word again…I just didn’t want to go through that again.”
“Oh.” Laurel must have ignored his calls before shefiled for divorce, ignoring him instead of just being honest with him. “I can understand that, but I don’t understand why you would fire a gun at me and Thane. It was dangerous! You could’ve hurt or killed us. I can’t stand that kind of senseless violence, Barrett.”
“I blew out his motorcycle tires. That’s it. I wouldn’t have taken the shot if you or him were in the way.”
“Violence breeds violence. So maybe your prospect got kidnapped because you went too far.”
“You’re joking, right?” he asks before he gets to his feet again, now towering over me. “You think a couple of flat tires are the same as kidnapping an innocent kid?”
“I’m not saying it’s equal; I’m saying it may have escalated things unnecessarily. What if Thane had fired back at you and had hit you?”
“Thankfully, that didn’t happen. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that you aren’t the man I thought you were.”
Barrett bristles, and his face falls. “Yeah, I’m sorry too, Lyla.” We stand there in silence until, finally, he asks, “Will you please go home now?”
“Fine. Sure. Whatever.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you know once Jordan, our prospect, is safe so you can do whatever you want. You don’t have to reply back to me, but I hope you will.”
“Okay,” I agree, already knowing I will just because I don’t want to share any shitty similarities with my sister.
