“The kind of cash you’d never otherwise make in a lifetime.” He tossed out a number that made Vinnie whistle low. “I will bring the money with me to the drop-off point.”
“And where is it you wish me to drop him off?”
Zayne rattled off a location. “I need a few days to pull in more people and arrange adequate transport for him.”
“Transport?”
“Yes. I don’t intend to kill the tiger, Mr. Devereaux. I intend to sell him.”
Luke felt his back teeth lock. Zayne had spoken like Camden was a damn TV or something. It had become abundantly clear during the past ten minutes that this human was one sorry piece of shit.
“Can you have him to me by Friday?” Zayne asked.
“Three days … That’s doable,” Vinnie replied.
“Good. Here’s a number you can reach me at.” Zayne reeled off a phone number, adding, “Our mutual friends assured me that you could be counted on. I’m glad to see that they weren’t wrong.”
A few more things were said, and the humans left soon after.
Blair looked from Luke to Elle. “That I did not see coming.”
“Fair play to Dad for not whacking the little prick over the head with a cast iron frying pan,” said Elle.
When Blair went to follow his sister out of the room, Luke stayed her with a hand on her arm and tipped his chin toward her pile of clothes.
“Shit, forgot,” she muttered.
Luke waited while she redressed, his thumbs flying over the screen of his phone as he brought his brother up to speed. Tate’s responding text was one of pure indignation.
“Done,” Blair declared, flicking her hair out of her collar.
They returned to the kitchen, where Vinnie and Elle were once more seated at the table.
“Tate and Havana will be here soon,” Luke announced as he and Blair reclaimed the chairs they’d vacated earlier. “I texted him just now and told him about your visitor. He ain’t a happy bunny. He’s even unhappier that you spoke to Zayne alone.”
“It needed to go down that way.” Vinnie tapped his fingers on the table. “It was ballsy of that sorry excuse for a human to come here like this.”
“The extremists know you like face-to-face contact because you’re paranoid that the human authorities monitor your phone,” Luke reminded him.
“They do monitor it,” said Vinnie. “They simply monitor the wrong one.”
The Alpha pair soon arrived, their expressions hard, their eyes dark.
“Whiteford is one bold motherfucker,” said Tate as he stalked into the kitchen.
“Who just handed us a way to get to him that wouldn’t require us to get through mounds of security guards or break into a mansion,” Blair pointed out.
Luke nodded. “There’ll be no CCTV near the drop-off point. It’s a very isolated spot. We could get rid of him once and for all.”
Tate narrowed his eyes at him. “I sense a plan brewing in your head. What exactly have you got in mind?”
Keeping a hand splayed on his mate’s thigh, Luke relayed his plan.
Blair’s brows lifted. “That could work.”
“It could,” said Tate. “Camden will agree to play his part in it.”
“Without a doubt, but”—Havana pulled a face—“the trick will be getting his hyper-protective mate to agree.”
Yeah, there was that.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As Luke whipped the SUV into a parking space, Blair let out a shaky breath and studied the nearby coffeehouse. She couldn’t see her parents, but she knew they were inside. Their car was parked at the other end of the lot. It was Luke who’d suggested the venue, feeling that it would be better if they were all on neutral ground.
He turned to look at Deke and Isaiah, who were currently in the rear seats. “Do a quick check of the area, make sure there aren’t any surprises waiting for us.”
As the two enforcers exited the vehicle, Blair turned to Luke. “You don’t think my parents have set some kind of trap, do you?”
His brow creased. “No, not at all. I just know that there’s a possibility your stalker may have heard about the meet. They could have decided to hang around in the hope of making a grab for you at some point.”
Blair supposed it was possible. She hoped it was the case, since either Deke or Isaiah could then nab the little shit. Fingers crossed.
Sliding her gaze back to the coffeehouse, she put a hand to her churning stomach. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous about the meet.”
Luke rubbed her thigh. “You’re nervous because you know in your heart that if your parents mess up in there you might lose the will to ever bother with them again. You might be mad as hell at them right now, but you don’t want to lose them.”
She bit her lip. “Does that make me a sucker for punishment?”
“No, it makes you normal. No one wants to cut their parents out of their life unless they have to or unless said parents are toxic.” He flipped over his hand so that the back of it rested on her thigh and, taking the hint, she placed her hand in his. “Noelle and Les have made mistakes. Many mistakes, in her case. But they do love you. They’re not all bad.”