Controlled Burn (Blackbridge Security 8)

“What about the jump drive?”

“The what—fucking Ty,” I mutter.

“Look, everyone,” he says to the empty room. “She’s pretty and smart.”

The situation just got even more dangerous, going from a robbery or potential sexual assault to this man holding a gun on me because he works for the Keres MC.

“I don’t have the jump drive or three hundred grand. I haven’t even spoken to Ty in years.”

“You two have three kids together. You want me to believe he just took off and hasn’t reached out?”

“How much quality time do you get in with your kids?” I snap, growing irrationally angry because Brant and Adrian had the same argument when they showed up at Finn’s condo last fucking week.

All humor slides off the guy’s face, and I know it doesn’t bode well for me.

“I’m going to get what I’m looking for one way or the other, lady. I promise you that.”

I stare up at him, my back molars grinding together. I’m going to die today all because my piece of shit ex took something that didn’t belong to him. My kids are going to suffer because I made the worst choice in the world when I was a teen. Picking Ty Penman over that stupid football player because he was the bad boy is going to get me killed, and when I break it down that way, I realize I only have myself to blame.

Chapter 30

Finnegan

I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as my truck inches a couple more feet forward.

I want to growl at how inefficient this damn pickup line is. There are much better ways to handle this and stopping the teachers from leaning in to have a conference with parents would be a very good place to start.

Even with the windows rolled up, the sound of chattering children fills the cab of my truck. It doesn’t make me want to walk away like it did in the past. Right now, I’m smiling and trying to determine whether any of the loud voices belongs to one of mine. Well, not mine, but Kendall’s. I mean, mine in the sense that I’m picking them up today.

I inch further, rolling down the passenger side window since I’m next in line.

“Can I help you?” the teacher asks, grinning when she steps up to the side of my vehicle.

She bites the corner of her lip. Women do this a lot when they see me. I’m a big guy, and there’s something about that that draws women in. Maybe it’s their perception that I’d make a good protector, but honestly, I don’t really know. I don’t care either. Her perusal, her chatting with each parent is annoying me. The only woman I want with her eyes glued to me is being a stubborn brat and looking at a house to buy. My condo isn’t perfect, but I’m also not so attached to the damn thing that I wouldn’t consider moving to a bigger place.

“I’m here for Knox, Kason, and Kayleigh Stewart.”

Her face falls.

“Kendall called to let you guys know I’d be picking them up.”

She looks over her shoulder, her confusion doubled when she turns her face back in my direction.

“I have my ID,” I say, picking it up from the console to hand it to her.

“The Stewart kids have already been picked up.”

I huff an incredulous laugh. “Impossible. Check again.”

She shakes her head. “I loaded them myself, sir.”

Her tone grows annoyed, and I get it. No one likes to admit to being wrong.

“Who picked them up?”

“The man she called and said would get them.” She looks to the car behind me, and I want to clamp her chin and force her attention back on me. She spent minutes chatting with each parent while every other subsequent parent in line waited. She can damn well give me a few minutes.

“What was his name?” I snap, drawing her eyes back to mine.

“I don’t recall.”

“Was it Finnegan Jenkins?” She just stares at me. “Did he say his name was Finnegan?”

“I didn’t ask his name.”

“You didn’t ask, or you don’t recall?”

Her eyes narrow, and I can tell she’s growing more and more agitated and defensive.

“You let three kids get picked up by a fucking stranger and didn’t even bother to ask his name?”

“Sir, we don’t use that type of language here.”

“Fucking unbelievable,” I hiss. “What did the car look like?”

“It was a light-colored sedan,” she says, but her tone doesn’t make me think she’s a hundred percent sure about that either.

I pick my phone up.

“You can’t use your cell phone in a school zone.”

I glare at her as I press Wren’s name on my contact list and hold the phone to my ear. With my free hand, I put the truck in park.

“I need you to track Kendall’s phone,” I snap before he can even get a greeting in.