Chapter 76
Chapter Seventy-Six
Mal
On pins and needles
My nausea isn’t from morning sickness.
It’s from riding in the backseat of an SUV in the middle of the night with Todd next to me and two huge and heavily armed guys up front who make Todd look small. Following us are two more SUVs, also filled with large men who could squash Todd with a flick of their fingers.
Oh, and my nausea’s also from my fear we won’t be able to get mom, or that she’ll have to go somewhere else because we can’t trust her not to rat us out.
Jax showed up with the three SUVs. I’m given few details but offered the choice to stay behind.
“Not a chance,” I tell Jax.
He nods. “Good, because the plan has a better chance of success with you.”
And that’s the only hint I’m given.
I’m exhausted because I didn’t sleep much last night, and I couldn’t nap today, even after Todd used the milker on me—it fits nicely in our closet for easy storage—and made me come until I safeworded.
I lean over with my head in Todd’s lap despite how uncomfortable that is with the seatbelt on. His hand settles in my hair, gently scritching the way I love.
“Try to sleep, baby. We’re still two hours out.”
I’m about to complain when he gently shakes me, but I open my eyes to find it’s daylight, maybe a little past dawn, and we’ve come to a stop.
Groggy, I sit up, blinking as I look around. “Where are we?”
“First stop,” he says.
Turns out it’s an urban stronghold. Tall concrete walls surround the large house. It looks new, like Art Deco, Mid-Century Modern, and Frank Lloyd Wright had an orgy and drunk-dared each other to design a house.
Which is to say it’s quirky, but has an unspeakable kind of charm. I stand there, mesmerized.
Probably because I’m groggy and need some fucking coffee.
And I have to pee, and I don’t think the home’s homeowner wants me to water their bushes.
Morning Caldwell walks out to greet us, and everything snaps into clear focus. Of course this is his house. It fits him perfectly.
He hugs Todd and hesitates to get his okay from Todd before hugging me. I like the guy, and that he’s considerate.
“Let’s get you inside, Mal,” he says. “I’ll show you to the powder room.”
“Thank you!”
Ten minutes later, we’re all sitting at his gigantic raw-edged wooden dining room table that looks like maybe it’s a slab from a redwood tree or something, because it’s alllll one piece and it’s huge.
There are thirteen of us, including Morning, with room for still more because of the way we’re spread out.
And there’s coffee and breakfast fixings. Forgetting my manners, I start grabbing food because I’m ravenous. It’s only as I realize no one else is loading up their plates that I pause and look at Todd, who has one eyebrow cocked at me, then I look at Morning.
Morning sits with his elbows on the table and his hands clasped together. He’s also wearing what I would call a playful smile. “It’s okay, Mal. I’m certain you’re starving.”
“Thank you. I am.”
“Please, eat. The rest of us need to talk for a moment.”
“Thanks.”
The plan is to get Mom. Morning’s had her under surveillance for weeks. Today is her regular day to get her hair done.
“I could’ve told you that,” I say. “Every Monday, without fail.”
“Well, what’s interesting is that she never has security with her,” Morning says. “She drives herself to and from her appointments. And there’s never security at the house unless Sterling is there. Plus, your father never comes home early on Mondays.”
I snort. “He’s probably fucking his secretary.”
I meant it as a joke, but Morning isn’t laughing.
He nods. “That’s exactly what he’s doing. There is a reason we’re doing this today, Mal…”
And ten minutes later, my appetite’s fled while everyone else is eating.
They suspect my father is grooming his secretary to take over as the next Mrs. Randolph Sterling. The questions at the presser were to purposely gauge Mom’s level of grief.
To see if she looked like she was standing tall with my father, or ready to fall to the side.
I watched the tape, remember? It’s the second answer.
“We have a vehicle and uniform for Todd,” Morning says. “He’ll leave a cell phone on her car and then wait, following her home after.”
I do not like this idea. “What if my father’s got someone watching her?”
“Then it’d be a first,” Morning says. “Because he never does.”
“But why Todd?” I nearly panic at the thought of him being at risk.
“Because I’ll smell like you.” Todd squeezes my hand. “She’ll smell you on me.”
“I thought you said I smell like the pack, though?”
“She’s your mother,” Todd says. “I’m not a wolf, but even I know she’ll be able to tell it’s your scent on me.”
“And he’s an elk, not a wolf,” Morning adds. “Meaning she might trust him more.”
“Why can’t I go?” I ask. “I can get her to leave.”
“Fuck no,” Todd says. “You are staying with the rest of the team.”
“I agree,” Morning says. “She needs to see someone physically imposing who she’ll believe can deliver on a promise to safely exfil her.”
“But what if my father’s guys find Todd at the house?”
“One of the SUVs, with four men, will follow Todd,” Morning calmly says. “He will always have backup. Plus, he will be armed. The second SUV will be staged at the transfer point and bring him and your mother to your location. The third SUV will hang back to make sure no one follows.”
I’m…numb. “And if she doesn’t come willingly?”
Morning’s smile thins. “The team with Todd will move in, forcibly extract her, and transport her to a safe house. We’ll let you see her for fifteen minutes before her transfer. From that point, you won’t have contact with her until after Sterling is dead.”
Todd tries to lighten the mood, waggling his eyebrows at me. “Hey, if I could convince Jax I was trying to challenge him, I should be able to sweet-talk your mom, right?”
“I hope so. What was the deal with those questions you asked at the presser?” I ask Morning.
“To rattle your father. Remind him people are paying closer attention than he realized, like Brynnella’s absence.
And it worked. Immediately after the presser, he sent two of his guys directly to the airport and they purchased tickets to London.
I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that your latest Insta post the day before was from London,” he drawls, eyeing me over his coffee cup as he takes a sip.
“I don’t even have a fucking passport,” I say. “How can he believe that?”
“Because our guy’s a wiz,” Morning says. “But it doesn’t matter. Sterling’s men encountered a problem when they followed your breadcrumbs.”
“Problem?”
His slow smile would terrify me if he weren’t on our side. “I have a lot of relatives over there. Let’s just say the disappearance of two of Sterling’s men, including one named Paul, will reach his ears tomorrow morning.”
“Which is why the timeline,” I say. “And where’s Brynnella and her baby? Did she have it already? Surprised he’s not playing the loving grandfather card.”
A slight crease appears in Morning’s forehead. “We don’t know. We can’t find any record she’s had it, and no one’s seen her leave their house in over three weeks.”
“I doubt she lost it or my father would use that as an excuse to mine sympathy with an excavator.”
“Maybe in a few hours your mother can answer that question,” Morning says. “Meanwhile, let’s eat and then get Todd briefed and ready to go.”