“Where is my brother?” The man clicks his tongue. It’s in that moment I realize they don’t have him. Relief fills me, but only for a second. This is far from over. For me at least.
“That boyfriend of yours is making a lot of trouble.” The man pulls me over to the sofa and gives me a shove. I fall backwards onto it. “So now I’m going to give him some trouble.” I don’t see the slap coming until it’s too late. My ear rings and the taste of blood fills my mouth. I wipe it with my sleeve. “That’s perfect.” He snaps a few pictures of me.
“What do you want?” I don’t want Miles in my mess. He came into my life as a knight in shining armor, and this is what I gave him.
The seedy man ignores my question. “Your rich boyfriend thinks he’s Batman.” I swallow. Miles is already in this clearly. “And I bet he’ll be willing to do anything to get you back.”
I know he’s right. Miles will come for me. He always does.
Chapter Nineteen
Miles
“I feel like I could lift a thousand pounds,” Ryan declares. He leans out the window and shouts something into the wind. I grin. The boy’s happy, which I know will make Eden happy, which makes me happy. The kid resettles into his seat. “We doing the blowdryer trick on the next guy or what?”
“Don’t get bloodthirsty on me. Not every conflict is solved through violence. If you can avoid it, you should do so. Buying people off can be just as effective and a lot less messy.”
“How come you didn’t buy off the last guy?”
“Because he scared Eden, and I wanted him to feel that same sense of hopelessness and despair and remember it.”
“Doesn’t his boss deserve the same thing?”
“You can scare people in different ways, and bosses are often most scared by the loss of money and power.”
“That makes sense.”
Ryan’s like a sponge, absorbing everything. I’ll have to be careful in the future and watch what I say. He’s at a stage where he can be influenced, and I don’t want to lead him down the wrong path. Eden wouldn’t like that.
It’s funny how everything circles back to her. My main focus in life now is how can I make her happy. That’s literally all I want. The phone rings and interrupts my thoughts.
“Can you get that?” I nod my head toward the phone in the console.
Ryan picks it up. “Miles’ phone. What ‘sup?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see all the excitement in his face turn to stone.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as a chill runs up my spine.
“You better listen to this.” He lays the phone between us and turns the speaker on.
“—girl, you best come quick.”
“Repeat that!” I bark.
“I said, if you want to see your girl, you best come quick. You deaf or something?”
“Where? What address?”
“Your pa’s place. Better be here soon or she’s going to look like this.” The phone screen abruptly turns from all black to reveal a terrified Eden with a red palm print on her face. Someone wants to die. It quickly pans to Tony’s busted face.
“You hurt her, and I’ll fucking kill you,” screams Ryan.
The screen turns black, and a chuckle resonates through the line. “You can try, kid. You can try.”
The line goes dead before Ryan can respond. He pounds on the dashboard of the car in futile anger.
“Go. We need to get to my sister,” he yells.
As if I don’t know. I pick up my phone and scroll through until I find Bach Turner’s number. He answers after the first ring. “Is Violet okay?” he says before I can even get out hello.
“She’s fine.”
“Your security—”
“It’s fine. I have a different problem.” I quickly give him a summary.
“How many men do you need?”
“How many do you think I’ll need?”
“Two. I’ll come as well. Send me the address.”
I disconnect and give Ryan a nod. Grimly, he texts his dad’s information to Turner. “What’s this Turner do?”
“He’s a security expert. Former special forces. He set up the system at our house.”
“Why’d he ask about Violet?”
“Because he loves her.” And can’t be with her because Violet refuses to leave the house, and until she can overcome that, she doesn’t think she’s worth being with. I pray that Turner will change her mind.
We arrive before Turner. Ryan wants to rush inside, and I do as well, but if we fuck it up and Eden gets hurt, I’ll never forgive myself. Instead, I call the man who contacted us and stall for time.
“I figure you guys are going to want money so I’m running by my bank. How much do you need?” I lie.
The man snorts but doesn’t decline. “Wait here.”
We hear footsteps departing and then arriving. A new voice appears on the line. That’s two men. “This is Dunn. You Miles Monroe?”