She tells me another story about Riley’s parents that leaves me eager to meet them to see if they match up to the corrupt fairy tale I’ve created in my mind. A man falls for a woman from the opposite side of the tracks in an opposing gang. Instead of doing what their parents want, they marry and take on both families, carte blanche. By age twenty-five, they had created the foundation for what the Astor family represents and controls today.
“Drew, you have a visitor.” Jesse’s voice breaks my daydream about Romeo and Juliet with more bullets and less flowery language. I raise one brow, expecting Jesse to tell me who it is, but he just walks out. I end the call and follow him.
It’s Cyrus. He’s sitting on the edge of the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees. The look he casts my way is one of utter rage. “Why hello,” he says. Jesse lingers in the kitchen, aware of every move either of us makes. “Nice of you to keep me waiting.”
Glancing at Jesse, I notice he’s smirking. “I’m sorry. I was on a phone call,” I say.
“I’m here to apologize for that night. I didn’t realize you were her.”
“What do you mean?” I say quietly.
“The woman who would tear apart the family.” He grins, meeting Jesse’s fierce gaze. “Just joking.” Cyrus cracks his knuckles. “I’m sorry for laying hands on you.”
I sit down on the sofa as far away as is physically possible. “It’s fine.”
“It isn’t fine, or I wouldn’t be here,” he snarls. “I didn’t realize Riley had his watchdog protecting you when he wasn’t around.” One more glance at Jesse, and then he turns back to me. “That’s no excuse for my behavior.”
I tell him it’s fine one more time. It’s awkward. I’m not sure what to say and I’m constantly worried I’m going to say something I shouldn’t. “Hey, I have one last question,” Cyrus says after Jesse leaves the kitchen.
I nod.
“Do you have any siblings?”
Furrowing my brow, I shake my head. “None that I know of. I didn’t grow up with my parents around,” I say.
Cyrus’s eyes light as he stands. “Might be something you want to look into.”
Jesse appears. “Finished?”
“On my way out,” Cyrus says, tipping an imaginary hat. “Boss,” he adds before leaving.
I can feel Jesse’s gaze burning my back as I remain silent, walking past him to my room.
Jesse murdered the last living relative that would know anything about my real parents, and that fact makes my stomach roll.
Chapter Fourteen
Drew
I’m getting used to this life. The difference between my first time in a restaurant to my first time in an airplane, let alone a private jet is so different it’s scary. I just assume everything will always be top-notch now. It takes the surprise out of anything new and any first that comes next.This is my life.The jet was like any movie I’ve ever watched. They had all my favorite foods, drinks, and even the brand of blanket someone somehow knows I favor. I napped and snacked and did a lesson with my reading tutor while in air. There were no other passengers save for Reggie and another guard he is training. I’m not sure why I expected Riley to surprise me and be on board when I walked up the stairs, but the disappointment hit me like heavy bricks.
The same disappointment laces every breath as I walk down the stairs following Reggie and spot more black suits and dark cars. The guard behind me is so close I can feel his breaths and his nervous body heat radiating through his suit in the hot sun. The humidity hits me, and it’s as if you can see a vapor streaming from the runway. We’re not near any buildings at the airport, nor are there any other planes. Reggie is talking to someone in his earpiece, and I pull out my cell phone to check for any messages. The fact it’s a private airport is made even clearer when guards flash guns at their sides. Not the subtle ones either. My heart rate ratchets up and I drop my cell phone, shattering the screen. Reggie stoops to pick it up, then pockets it.
“We’ll get you a new one when we get to the manse.”
Nodding, I clutch my bag holding my prized possessions and try to fight the urge to run. Reggie straight-arms me before speaking to one of the guards. He glances over his shoulder. “ID,” he says, extending his hand. My hand shakes as I fish the fake identification from my wallet. It was given to me, along with several other things, in a small, zippered bag this morning before I boarded. Pretending to be someone else is easy for me, and I didn’t question it. The Astors don’t use real IDs when they travel so they can’t be traced. I remind myself one more time, this is my life, as I hand over the passport. I wonder if the name really exists. Am I stealing someone’s identity? Do they know? Or is she dead? I close my eyes. It’s easy to pretend Riley and Jesse are businessmen with an edge in the States, but here with these men looking at me like they want to kill me and protect me at the same time, I’m acutely aware this life is dangerous. Money and riches don’t change the fact that what they do is illegal. No number of payoffs can change a moral compass this far gone.You have to be okay with that, Drew.
In a split second, I’m on the ground, pinned underneath whatever his name is from behind me as Reggie ducks next to a car in a firefight with guards from one of the other blacked-out cars. My lungs are barely expanding as his weight presses me into the scalding asphalt. It’s dead weight, I realize the same moment I feel wet, warm liquid soak into my back. Looking up, I see Reggie, cool as a cucumber, reaching out for me. He wants me to take his hand, but how when I can barely breathe?
“Drew, fucking move!” Reggie hisses, a bead of sweat rolling down his face. “Fucking move now!” A lull in gunfire allows him to speak and be heard. “This is a kidnap attempt. They know who you are. I don’t know how they knew.” Oh, the jet maybe? Or a million other things I concoct at the top of my head.
I crawl toward the cover of the car and the body on my back slides a little with each movement I make. Using my elbows, I pull myself once more, and Reggie is close enough to jerk me to his side, leaving the slain guard spilling blood tumbling behind me. Panic slips out, and I begin sobbing. Reggie puts me into the back seat of the car closest to us and slams the door. There’s a man with a gun in the driver’s seat. He did nothing to stop the shootout moments ago, and my mind is warping trying to figure out what’s going on and what happens next. I’m sweating, sticky with blood and shaking uncontrollably when the driver pulls away.
“Is that, is that the same airport Jesse is landing at?” I can’t keep the panic out of my voice.
“Drew,” Reggie chides. “Quiet.”
“Is it?” I speak louder. “It’s not safe!”