Chapter 9
No, you didn’t
Endo
The housekeeper informed me that the other sister is coming over.
The Pembroke sisters seem close, and I anticipate dramatics, so I’d rather get out of here before she arrives. Scarlett’s suitcase is loaded, which means she’s ready. Good girl.
Before we depart, I check on the old man. The moment I walk in, the scent of sweet berry-laced perfume I recognize as Scarlett’s teases my senses. I could barely get it out of my head last night, and now it’s back, along with memories of her soft skin under my hand.
I’m endlessly annoyed by how pretty she is.
Hovering over her father helps with that. I hate him more than I hate the fact that I find her pretty.
The man sleeps peacefully. She medicated him heavily to help with the pain. As I watch him, I feel a tinge of envy. How peaceful and nice it must be to rest this way and have not a care in the world for anyone besides himself. And I’m certain this man cares only about himself.
I wonder if his daughter knows just how selfish he is. Probably not. Narcissists are notoriously well masked.
I regret that I had to force his cooperation by shooting him.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t regret causing him pain, but I regret that I let Scarlett tend to him when I could’ve extracted information from him while he was under duress.
Now, she’s got him so comfortable, he’s unconscious.
This means he’s not searching for my brother.
He shouldn’t be allowed to rest until he finds Cass.
Shortly after I settle back in my house, I expect Daniel’s update on what he’s doing to find my brother. Wilfred can call me too. I don’t care which of them contacts me, but for the record, Wilfred’s voice irritates me more than Daniel’s.
Wilfred speaks from the position of authority and power that Daniel gave him when he made him his partner.
It often translates to speaking down to others.
This is common with men who grew up among the city’s elite.
Oftentimes, they carry delusions that they’re superior to those of us who aren’t in the elite circles.
I don’t want to shatter his fantasies because I’m not in the business of educating grown men, but I will if I have to.
My family has been in the arms business for as long as the arms business has existed.
In fact, my family invented the trade before the government realized they could profit from it.
Before the politicians organized themselves and passed laws, my family and others across the continent supplied our government and their allies.
Nevertheless, we operate in silence and watch politicians wage wars. We only want to be paid and to be left alone. Which is exactly why messing with Cass was a bad idea and why now I must make an example of this bastard lying in bed in front of me.
“I’m going to fuck your daughter.” There. Rest on that, daddy dearest.
As I walk out of his bedroom, I check my watch. We’re on time.
Outside, my team chats among themselves near the two vehicles.
I greet them with a nod. “Ten minutes,” I say.
“We’re ready,” Marquis, the group’s leader, answers.
I lean against the back door, and Marquis joins me.
He’s a big, tall man who joined our team a few years back.
Once I caught on to his exceptional work ethic and candid sense of humor, I practically begged him to stay with us.
At first, he said no, because his husband (then boyfriend) didn’t want to move.
But a few months later, Philip was mistreated at his job, and Marquis sorted out the issue.
They fled their country and showed up on my doorstep.
I made him a capo, and now he leads my private army.
“We should leave before the sister gets here,” I say.
“Just waiting on your bride.”
“Slada said she’s ready.”
“The suitcase is in the trunk.”
“You think she’ll resist?” I ask. I hope Scarlett chooses the easy route, the dignified one where she folds into the back seat of my car, tears running down her cheeks. But I’m unsure of what she’ll do. She didn’t make a fuss at the party. In private, however, she’s a fighter.
“How many suitcases did she bring?” I ask.
“Just one.”
“She’s optimistic. Thinks her father will find Cass, and this will all be over shortly.”
“She might’ve packed fast in a rush to get to your house.”
I frown. “Why would she do that?”
“She is smitten with your warm aura and excellent manners.”
I chuckle and check my watch again, then look around. It’s quiet for a kidnapping. Too quiet. I’m a little disappointed by how easy… An unfamiliar noise pings.
Marquis points toward my pocket. “Your phone?”
“No. Yours?”
He shakes his head.
I open the car door and look inside, thinking someone might’ve forgotten their phone, when the noise pings again. This time, it pings in a steady rhythm every few seconds.
“It’s your phone,” Marquis says.
“It’s not my—” I pull out my phone and see a red banner flashing at the top of the screen. “That’s the tracker app.” I swipe, and a map opens with a red dot pulsing and moving away from my location.
Marquis and I lock eyes, understanding hitting us instantly.
“We have a runner,” Marquis shouts. He rounds the car while I slide into the back.
He takes the driver’s seat and, after Slada hops in next to him, tires screech, kicking up gravel in their wake. We take off down the driveway at top speed. Marquis nears the gate, then stops so Slada can get out and remove the chain we put there to stall anyone who might want to come in or escape.
This tells me Scarlett didn’t escape this way.
Slada returns, and we peel away. I’m itching to drive, but Marquis is handling the transport, and I can’t overstep his authority and micromanage. But it’s hard to sit back when my body’s itching for a chase. Fuck, I love a good chase, and it looks to me like Scarlett is an excellent runner.
I didn’t expect her to run. Not at all, and the unexpected has me hard now. I adjust my erection and lick my lips. Not boring. Not easy at all.
Marquis’s eyes find mine in the rearview mirror. “Got something dirty on your mind?”
“I want to catch her.”
“Not sure if we can. She’s got a great start.”
“We better catch her.” I pass him my phone so he can hook the tracker to the dash device so everyone can see her signal.
Marquis keeps his eyes on the road, but he slows down to watch the red dot move. Their property is outside the city, situated among other luxury ranches. There’s not much traffic out here, and she’s not even using the road.
“When I heard her sister was coming, I speculated the collateral would attempt an escape. Hide in the trunk or some such,” Marquis says.
Scarlett’s dot moves over the nearby golf course. “She’s moving too fast to be on foot.”
“A golf cart?” Slada suggests from the back.
“Maybe,” Marquis says.
From the road, the golf course’s thick, living fence blocks our view. We follow the road alongside the fence, and I catch myself chewing the inside of my lip, anticipating Scarlett’s appearance when she clears the fence. Judging by her speed, she will clear it in under a minute.
I’m dying of curiosity about how she got out from under Marquis’s watchful eye and traveled several miles from her property and over a golf course.
I wouldn’t say I underestimated her because, coming into this, I knew she was smart and would push back, but I didn’t anticipate that I’d enjoy the chase.
Marquis accelerates to match her speed.
“Not a golf cart,” Slada says. “What the hell is this woman driving?”
A chestnut horse bursts into the clearing. Scarlett is hunched over its neck, gripping the mane and riding that beast bareback.