King Maker (King Maker 3)
“I’m going to find her,” I said again with more conviction.
“Really it’s my fault,” she babbled. “I’m the one who told her to screw you. And look how that turned out. She’s practically lost her job and now her life.”
I breathed through the guilt before I said a final time, “We will find her.”
“Do you know she was practically in tears after screwing you that first night?” she huffed. “My girl is not that kind. She’s like the no sex before marriage type.” She paused. “Not exactly, but damn close enough, and now you’ve ruined her.” I thought she was done, but I was wrong. “I ruined her. If you don’t find her…”
A sob came from the other end of the phone.
Softly, I said, “I will get her back safe and sound.”
“If you don’t, I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to you unless my brother kills you first. And if he does, I’ll kill you again and bury your body with him.”
“I don’t doubt you will.”
“Good.”
I was pretty sure she was on the verge of hanging up.
I said, “You can’t go home.”
“What?” she said, sounding surprised.
“Where are you? Are you still in Chicago?”
“How did you know I was in Chicago? Matt better have told you. I don’t want to find out you’re stalking me.”
“Are you in New York?” I asked, getting us back on track.
“Yes. I’m waiting on my luggage.”
“I’ll have someone pick you up.”
“Wait. You’re not the boss of me.”
“You heard about the break-in.”
“I did,” she said. “But Bails said you had it cleaned up. I assume they did a good job.”
“It’s clean but not secure. I won’t risk you. I have a place you can crash.”
“Hotel?”
“Better. You’ll like it. Trust me.”
“What about my things?”
“It’s on me.”
“A shopping spree,” she said with a wicked edge. “Because I can do damage.”
“It’s on me.”
“I don’t need your charity, Scottish boy. I can pay for myself.”
“You can, but I’m inconveniencing you. So I’ll cover any costs.”
“I won’t stay there forever,” she said as if this was a negotiation.
“I’m not asking you to. A few days, maybe a week.”
The lass would never forgive me if anything happened to her friend.
“Fine. Now where is this place?” she asked.
“I’ll send someone to pick you up.”
“You like being mysterious, don’t you? Bails might like bossy, but I don’t.”
“Please,” I said.
“Fine. Text me the deets. And get my girl.”
She ended the call, and I knew if I didn’t get Bailey back safe and sound like I promised there would be hell to pay. Lizzy might be a slip of a woman, but she had fight in her.
My satellite phone buzzed in my hand before I put it in my pocket. “Griffin,” I said.
“ETA, five minutes.”
I wanted more information than that and would have said it, but he said something else.
“Someone wants to talk to you.”
He didn’t give me a chance to ask who it was before I heard, “Da.”
Every time I heard my son’s voice, he thawed the frozen thing that managed to beat in my chest.
“Gabe.”
It wasn’t often my son called me in the middle of the day. When he did, he usually wasn’t feeling well.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
His voice broke when he spoke, breaking me in turn. “When are you coming home?”
Guilt hit me like a sledgehammer. Though we’d video chatted last night with me telling him a bedtime story so our routine wouldn’t be completely broken, it wasn’t the same as being there.
“Very soon. I promise.”
“Okay,” he said weakly.
I wanted to curse but managed to hold it in.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too.”
“To the moon and back,” he said, sounding a little more optimistic.
“To the moon and back.”
When Griffin got back on the phone, I heard him walking away as the background noise quieted with his every step.
“You should—” he began.
“I know. I’ll come back tomorrow no matter what.”
“I could always switch places with you.”
I shook my head and realized he couldn’t see.
“I need you there,” I said. “I don’t trust anyone else.”
“Connor?”
That was the question I couldn’t answer. I didn’t want to believe my brother could be doing this. In fact, I didn’t. At the same time, I wouldn’t put my son’s safety at risk because I wanted to believe he couldn’t do this.
“Connor is the last person I would ever believe would do this to me.” But I had to be smart. “Everyone is on the list until it’s proven they’re not.” A second later, I asked, “Anything on Steven?”
There was a bigger question mark on Violet’s husband.
“Not a lot to go on. We are searching headlines for disappearances of anyone with the name Steven and all its various spellings.”
“If that’s his real name,” I muttered.
“Exactly. I have your description, but our focus right now is finding Bailey.”
“Good.”
Though finding Steven might be the key in finding Bailey.
“They should be arriving,” Griffin said. “I’ll let you know if we come up with anything else.”