27. Beau
Chapter 27
Beau
W hile Cassie slept, I made a call to Ron, knowing he had to hear from me. While I waited for him to answer, I made a mental tally of the hours we’d already used up from Sutton’s time limit.
God forbid we used the three days this fucker Sam was taunting us with, so we’d be cutting it close to the week. We had to cut this off by the two-day mark and get our asses back to Wyoming.
“Hello?” Ron asked.
I didn’t know what time it was, but he answered anyway. “It’s me, Ron. Look, I don’t want to tell you what sort of clusterfuck it is up here, but I need to check in with you guys and tell you that I am still kickin’.”
He laughed. “I didn’t doubt you for a second, you stubborn bastard. But it’s that bad, huh?”
“Yeah…” I shot a look at Cassie. “It turns out the person screwing us isn’t that French bastard Vigo, and as much as I want to tell you what is happening, I can’t, not now, but I am hoping to get home in three days.”
“Well, things are running fine and dandy down here,” Ron replied. “The guys and I are holding down the fort, so you don’t have to worry. We’re good down here, so figure out what you have to get done wherever you are and come back free and in the clear.”
“Thanks, Ron…” I rubbed my bleary eyes. “And tell Bran he is still on mucking duty. Just 'cause I am gone doesn’t mean he shouldn’t get on with his punishment.”
My second-in-command laughed. “Oh, I will tell that fucker. See you soon, bossman.”
“I hope so,” I replied.
When I ended the call, I went back to Cassie’s side and slid into the sheets beside her. If I had not had any admiration for a person before, it damned well doubled down on Cassie. For a little lady that topped one-thirty soaking wet, she had the balls of a man twice my size. She had sent off a screenshot to her family IT guy an hour ago, and we were waiting for him to call her back. She was exhausted.
We had showered and were ready to jet off the moment we got the call. We had to find this lady and let her know what her son was doing. I had no faith that the woman would drag her son back to his senses, but at least it would rattle him.
The call came in at 5:46 am, just a couple of hours after we’d gotten some sleep. The IT person was a lady, and she was no-nonsense.
“It took me hours of facial recognition searching, but I found the lady. This video was taken over two decades ago, and it beats me how whoever found this video even found it,” the specialist said. “Her name is Alanya Pusey, she is forty-three years old, originally from Chicago, Illinois. She moved around for years, stayed in South Hills for fifteen years?—”
“Wait? What ?” Cassie nearly screamed, “South Hills, Montana ? Fifteen minutes from my home?”
“Yes,” she said. “From what I could find, he went to East Helena High School?—”
Cassie went red. “That fucker went to my high school?”
I frowned. “With your kind of money, you went to public high school?”
“I’ll explain later,” she said furtively.
“Seems so, but halfway through his sophomore year, he and his mother moved to Chicago. From enrollment records, he left high school and headed to Russia, but from there, he disappeared. His mother still resides in Chicago. I will text you the address.”
She dropped the phone and hunched over to cage her head in both hands, and I gave her as much time as she needed. When she lifted her head, she said hollowly, “Father believed that we all should start like everyone else… even if we were rich, we still had normal lives and normal friends. I didn’t wear Gucci or Prada to school. I got my clothes from Ross and Marshalls, but I still got dropped to school in Bentleys and BMWs.
“He must have seen me and hated me, knowing who I was and not being allowed to come near me,” she added. “Seethed over it, despised all I was, hated me day in and day out. Those few times Dad came to my track meets, he must have been there, seen him, detested him too.”
She sounded hollow and angry at the same time.
Reaching out, I cupped the back of her neck. “We need to go, baby. We’ll get him locked up and sent away for good. I’m right by your side, Cassie… we’ll get this done.”
Chicago. I had traveled more around the States in the past four days than I had done in twenty-seven years. The buildings were tall, glass, hedged in on each other, fucking claustrophobic. It reminded me of why I would never live in these places… no shame to those who did and who enjoyed the modern conveniences it gave them. I needed air, wide spaces, land, rivers… quiet.
The GPS led us to a rural street with a couple of duplexes on it, and the quaint yard looked like that of a dedicated housewife. We didn’t even wait until the engine shut off completely; we were out and to the door.
76 hours were ticking down.
Knocking on the door, we hoped she was home because if she wasn’t—we were screwed. I checked my watch, feeling as if every second that passed by made the noose tighten around our neck. We had to start crippling Sam, somehow, some way.
At least two minutes passed before the door pulled open, and a slender lady with a coiffed top knot and relaxed lounge clothes stood there, swirling a glass of wine. She looked at me first, then dropped her gaze to Cassie. Her lips thinned. “Cassandra Carrington… I never expected to see you on my doorstep.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Ms. Pusey, but we need to talk,” Cassie said, notching her head up. “It’s about Sam.”
“What did he do?” she asked, stepping aside to let us in. “The last time I heard from him, he was in Serbia.”
“We don’t know where he is,” Cassie said. “But I do know he is out to punish me and my family for the wrongs we did to him. He is threatening to release a damning video about us, and it will undeniably destroy us. And the worst thing is—” she took out her cell, “—you’re in it too.”
She played the clip, and the lady’s glass slipped out of her hands and cracked, spilling wine all over the white carpet. “Oh god, no,” she gasped. “Why would he do that?”
“He told me he’s been marginalized all his life by us,” Cassie explained. “I suspect he even attended the same high school I did.”
“He did go,” she hunched over, eyes shifting left and right, “But he did not know who you were. His last name was changed at birth.”
“Maybe he found out later and started to resent me,” Cassie replied. “Do you have any way of contacting him? Can you talk some sense into him?”
She let out a strange laugh, something halfway between a scoff and gasp, then shook her head morosely. “I lost control of him the day he turned seventeen. Sam does things his way. I could be the president of the country, and he would still not listen to a damn thing I ask him to do.”
“We need you to try,” I finally spoke up. “He’s not only threatening her family but mine too because we’re together. I suppose he thinks anyone who is connected with those who did him wrong is a target, too.”
“Oh, dear God…” she got up and began to pace. “Growing up, Sam was a happy kid, but as he hit his teens, he was surly, disappointed and angry. One summer, I even sent him to a military camp to get the attitude out of him, but it made him worse. He left at eighteen with a few words… he told me he would make it right for us, and then he vanished for seven years. And now—oh, Jesus Christ. I made a monster.”
“No…” Cassie interrupted. “You didn’t. My dad had a hand in this, too, when he tried to cover it up. I know I would be pissed off and incensed if my father did not even give me his name and ignored me all my life.”
“As much as I would like to help you, I don’t think I can,” the lady despaired. “He is nowhere to be found. He is most likely overseas.”
“Actually, I don’t think so…” I cut in again. “He’s got to be stateside.”
“Does he have any friends around? Anyone he would turn to find a temporary lodging? Can you think of anyone?”
Ms. Pusey pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes shifting left to right. “I can only think of a kid named Joshua. He was one of those fuck-the-system kind of kids who lived on the line between quiet and a rebel. He moved to Bozeman a couple of years ago, but they were two peas in a pod.”
So, the fucker was in Montana.
I clenched my fist, feeling the bones in my hand crack. I needed to put my knuckles in Sam’s face.
“Do you have a number for him?” Cassie asked.
“I—” she looked around. “No, but with the kids these days, I am sure he’s somewhere on social media.” She plucked her phone from a side table and began scrolling. Her brows shot up. “Found him.”
She clicked something, then set the phone down, and the ringtone went on one… two… three… fo?—
“Hello?”
Cassie grabbed my hand.
“Joshua?” Ms. Pusey asked. “I don’t think you remember, but I am Sam’s mom.”
“Oh my god, sure, sure, I remember you,” the man replied. “Long time, huh? I am surprised to hear from you, but honestly, I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Sam dropped in on me a couple of weeks ago,” he said. “I thought he was just a pit stop with me before he moved on to you,” Joshua replied. “He’s… he’s changed, ma’am. I don’t know what to say, but he’s… he’s not the man I used to know.”
Ms. Pusey looked up at me and Cassie. “How so?”
“He’s been…I don't know, militarized. He murmured under his breath in Mandarin and had these journals with ammo catalogs and others with some secret seven-step plan he wouldn't even tell me about. He had this laptop set up that he spent hours on for nights at a time, and he… he kind of scared me at times, but he’s… he’s my friend, so I could only wish him well.”
“Do you know where he has gone off to?” she asked.
“Sorry, not a clue.” Joshua sighed. “I wish I could be of more help, but…”
“It’s all right,” she said. “Thank you for all your help anyway.”
“It was good to hear from you, though, and if he drops in again, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you,” she replied, then hung up. “I wish things had gone differently, but that’s how far I can help you. I am so sorry.”
“No,” Cassie stood. “You’ve done enough. Can you take my number? In case he comes back, please call me.”
After she gave the lady her number, we left the house and headed back to the hotel we were staying in. I pressed a hand to my gut; my stomach felt like it was eating itself. “This Sam, he’s a tricky fucker, ain’t he?”
“Seems like it,” Cassie replied as we headed to the city. “Is it possible to feel accomplished and defeated at the same time?”
I laughed without mirth. “I know that feeling all too well. One step forward, two steps back. It sucks.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, then turned off to a main road that headed into the city and to the Four Seasons on East Delaware and parked on the upper deck. Sagging back into her seat, she plucked her phone out. “68 hours. Fuck. I-I thought we’d get a breakthrough with his mom, but we got stonewalled.”
“We’ll regroup,” I replied, reaching over the console and pulling her in by the neck.
I kissed her slowly, tracing her lips with my tongue, tugging her lower lip into my mouth and sucked on it, nipped it, then soothed it with my tongue. I let her go with a tiny pop and tangled her tongue with mine for long, comfortable, soothing minutes.
She melted into me, undone by the gentleness. It was not as if I didn’t know she was hanging on by a thread; it was why I was determined to make her forget everything outside those doors and lean into me. She trusted me to protect her heart, just as I was damned ready to protect her body for as long as I was around.
“C’mon,” I said, “We need to get some food.”
As we left the park and headed down and around to the front of the hotel, my only aim was to get into a cool lobby, throw back a beer, and have a good meal before we came up with what to do next.
A drunk guy pushed his way in front of me, his elbow digging into my ribcage, and I stopped, “Hey, you.” He wobbled on, and I turned to Cassie. “Don’t get me whatever he is having.”
The screech of a wheel had me pivoting… the blast of shots being fired. On instinct, I blocked Cassie with my body, and the slam of a bullet ramming into my shoulder had me taking Cassie down with me, collapsing to the sidewalk.
Through the surge of pain in my body, I barely heard the ping of bullets off the glass door, shattering it, screams of people scuttling, and the roar of the bike as it sped off. Pain shot through my body, causing my teeth to bite harder into my cheek. It was so hard, I was sure I drew blood.
The noise of people screaming was incredible… the screech of the bikes speeding away… the fucking pain.
My body felt crippled, the agony surging back and forth over my overloaded nerve endings. White was bursting in shockwaves behind my eyes, and I smelled coppery blood.
“Beau!” Cassie’s voice sounded faint as if my ears were stuffed with cotton. “Beau, please, please, please!”
“Cas-sie?” The darkness was closing in on me.
She grabbed at my shirt and pressed her hand into the wound. “Stay with me, Beau. Stay with me! Somebody, help. Call 911, now! Somebody’s been shot!”