I closed my eyes long enough to stop myself from punching my fists into the brick wall. All my meticulous fucking planning, and I overlooked the vulnerability of a goddamned smartphone.
“Here’s what happens next.” His hard eyes stared into the camera, his expression flat. “If you don’t let me inside in three seconds, I’m going to put a bullet in her husband’s head. If your weapons aren’t on the floor by the door, Mr. Anderson is dead.”
Sweat formed over my skin beneath the leather jacket. They couldn’t get to the basement unless I gave up the code. She was safe, but for how long? They could shoot me and simply wait until she grew impatient or hungry.
Deep down, I knew what I needed to do. I should let him kill Collin for her sake and mine. Or to speed things up, I should just kill Collin myself.
But I couldn’t. My chest tightened. I wouldn’t.
Maybe I didn’t entirely trust Collin, but Kaci did. And maybe deep down, I wanted him to live because, fuck me, he was my brother, a bond I could potentially kindle—something I’d never allowed myself to hope for.
Helpless anger boiled through my gut as I set the gun from my pants and the blade from my boot on the floor, the only weapons left in the room. Then I punched in the code and opened the door.
29
Logan
Trent ran a finger along the kitchen counter as he looked around my living space. His filthy fucking presence in my home made my muscles tense to the point of pain.
He’d already checked me for weapons and inspected the bathroom and closets for Kaci. He hadn’t asked me to remove the helmet, and he could’ve shot me the second he walked in. Evidently, he was here for more than just my demise.
He lifted Kaci’s phone from the counter and checked the screen. “Where is she?”
In the center of the room, I widened my stance and slid my jaw side-to-side to loosen the tension. “She’s out for a jog.” A believable reason for her phone to be here. Thank fucking Christ I hadn’t told her to take it downstairs with her. “Soon as she sees your limo in the drive, she’ll take off.”
He studied me for a long moment. “We’re twenty miles from the nearest town. She’ll come knocking.”
A few feet in front of me, Collin slumped in a folding chair. His shoulders curled forward, his hands tied behind his back, his eyes hard and bloodshot as he watched Trent. He hadn’t said a word since entering, and didn’t seem fazed by the gun Jed aimed at his head.
The hidden elevator was ten feet behind Collin and Jed, a comfortable reminder that Kaci was safe two-stories below.
How much did Trent know? Evader wouldn’t give a shit about Collin’s life. Did Trent know who I was beneath the helmet? My only concern was keeping Kaci safe, so I stuck with silence to avoid giving anything away.
Trent prowled toward me, his hands behind his back and his expression hidden beneath his tight, polished skin. “As you can guess, you won’t be racing tonight.” His forehead furrowed. “Initially, I thought Kaci somehow knew about the bet I placed and had come here to warn you about the police raid. But I’ve checked all my connections in the Chicago PD. No one knows anything about a big race bust tonight.”
Fuck fuck fuck. I didn’t twitch, didn’t speak.
He stepped into my space, his eyes level with my visor. “Remove the helmet.”
The fucker didn’t know who I was. I remained still, shoulders back, spine straight. “You may not like what you see.”
He looked at the floor, grinned, and raised his head. “I’ve been tracking her for a long time. She attends your races. She’s been here since yesterday. It’s safe to assume you’re sticking your dick in her. So why do you care what happens to her husband?” He looked over his shoulder at Collin and returned to me. “He’s fucking clueless about what Kaci’s been up to. Big surprise there.”
I stifled a heavy exhale. Collin hadn’t said shit.
His hand smoothed down his tie. “I brought him here, knowing she’d cooperate if I threatened him.” He cocked his head. “Interesting how you seem to share her sentiment toward this man. Why not just tell me to kill him?”
His proximity gnawed at the composure I was seconds from losing. “I know who you are, Trent. You won’t shoot your own son.”
“You have no idea.” He glanced back at Jed, who slipped a finger through the trigger guard, a command away from squeezing it. Trent’s eyes flicked back to me. “Remove the goddamned helmet.”
No sense delaying, and to be honest, I looked forward to his reaction. I gripped the sides, lifted it off, and tossed it onto the nearby couch.
His eyes flashed, and he took a step backward.