With the tightness in my chest returning, I slipped my hand into my oversized LV, searching for my phone. I needed to know if there was news. With one foot on the top step, something red drew my attention. I halted in my tracks. There, next to the hangar, was my father's RS7.
He's in town?
I hadn't spoken to him or my mother since my drive from LAX to Lilly's home. He didn't know I was coming back, and I assumed I would be riding with Wes and his dad.
Dizziness turned my vision hazy, and I latched on to the frame of the door.
Wes was already down the steps and halfway to his father's SUV before I could make my legs cooperate. In my head, I was going over my father's travel schedule. He should've been in Chicago.
I slowly placed one foot in front of the other. By the time I reached the passenger side of the sedan, Dad had made his way around and was opening the door for me.
"Honey." That was as affectionate as my father would get.
He gestured for me to get in, but I paused. "Dad. What are you doing here?"
"Tristen called about the situation in Los Angeles, and we figured it was better to be here when you arrived."
Do they have news? Is Lilly safe?
I knew better than to ask, though. Not here. Instead, I read between the lines. He had to check personally if I needed to see my therapist.
I was about to bow under his arm resting on the hood and drop into the passenger seat when Marcus approached with my luggage. My heart fluttered, and I had no idea why, but my spine stiffened. Of course, my father noticed my shift and dismissively peered behind him.
When his eyes landed on Marcus, his brows hitched, and he turned farther. With his change in position, I had a direct line of sight to my best friend's bodyguard. What I saw next shocked me to the core.
Marcus's face paled, and he froze midstep. His eyes locked on my father. With one lightning-fast move, he dropped my luggage and drew his gun, aiming it at—Dad?
A wave of adrenaline crashed through me, and I couldn't stop the screech that built in my throat. "What the fuck?"
I frantically searched the airfield for Wes or Ethan—anyone who could stop the madness. I noticed the taillights of Wes's dad's SUV leave through the gate. He didn't say goodbye.
What is going on? Where is Ethan?
With the gun aimed at my father's forehead, Marcus approached in a way I've only ever seen on TV. His locked jaw and tight mouth accompanied the hatred in his eyes, and a cold shiver ran down my spine.
My father took a step away from me and squared off to Marcus. They were mere feet apart, and if Marcus pulled the trigger, it would've been a point-blank shot.
I leaned sideways to get a better look at my father's face, and his demeanor had gone cold—colder than usual, I meant.
"Marcus Baxter. What a surprise." My father didn't sound surprised.
What the fuck is going on?
"Keller. I told you if I ever saw you again that I would kill you."
What?
Marcus's tone was so low that even if anyone were in the vicinity, his words would've been only audible to the three of us.
"You are not going to shoot me." My father chuckled. "Not here. Not ever."
I tried to make sense of what was happening but came up blank.
With his head cocked, the corner of Marcus's mouth pulled up in a sneer. "And how do you know that?"
My father turned to me. "Get in the car."
The pounding against the inside of my rib cage made it hard to breathe. My lips parted, but no sound came out.