Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LEON
“Answer it,” Falin says.
“No, don’t!” Damon cuts in.
I don’t know what to do, so I just hold the phone up, staring at Alfred’s name like my phone’s a loaded weapon. When I glance back up, I see that Bailey’s tucked her legs against her chest and cast her gaze toward the floor. The sight of her retreating into herself makes my decision easy.
“I’m not answering.” I decline the call and shove the phone in my pocket. “There’s no reason to.”
And Bailey doesn’t need to hear his voice. She’s starting to talk a little today, to feel a bit more comfortable. That fucker will make her upset.
“He must know the fire was you?” Blake says, but it comes out like a question. “Do you think we’re safe here?”
I wish I could give her a definitive answer, but Alfred’s reach is something I’ve never fully understood. “We should be careful. One of us needs to keep watch outside. I’ll set up surveillance.”
Blake shifts on the couch to peer out the window at the quiet London street. There’s nothing out of order—people in workout gear going for morning runs, couples walking their dogs, cars rushing to get to work. It all looks normal. But I don’t trust Alfred or any of those bastards he works with.
“Lee,” Blake turns back to me, her brows turned down. “What about your mom? He’d know where she is?”
“Shit.” She’s absolutely right. “I’ll go check on her. Get her somewhere safe until Alfred’s dealt with.” I grab my jacket from the wall hook. “This is so screwed.”
Bailey stands and takes a small step toward me. “Can I come with you?”
I freeze for a second, caught off guard by her question. Damon nods at me from behind her back, making a goofy encouraging face. Jasper’s still looking anywhere else but at me.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, of course. Mum would love to meet you.”
I hold out my jacket to her and she reaches for it without hesitation. “You should wear this. Protection for your arms.”
“Do you have a second helmet?” Falin asks.
“Not here, but I’ll manage. She needs it more.”
Blake crosses her arms. “Please be careful. I don’t love this plan.”
“They’ll be fine,” Jasper mutters. “No one’s more careful than Leon… Obnoxiously so.”
Bailey slides her arms into my jacket. The leather swallows her small frame, but seeing her wrapped in something of mine brings a pang to my chest.
I step up to her, close enough to catch the scent of her freshly washed hair. “Let me help with this.” My fingers find the zipper pull, and I slowly draw it up, all the way to the dip in her throat. “There. This’ll keep you safe.”
Our eyes meet, and I catch a flicker of emotion in them, like she’s thinking of how we were. God, her blue eyes take my damn breath away. But no time to wax poetic about that, not with Mum potentially in danger.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I want to say that she never has to thank me… not for keeping her safe. I do it gladly, because it feels as natural as breathing. Instead, I nod and back away before my body does something stupid that my brain will chide me for later, like wrapping her in my arms again.
“You can wear my Docs,” Blake says. “They’re by the door.”
“Oh, yeah… much better than the slippers I came here in,” she says, offering Blake a small smile.
With both of us ready to go, I pull out my phone and dial Mum.
“Be careful, you two!” Falin calls behind us, as I open the door for Bailey. “I’ll work on the cameras.”
“Call us if anything’s up!” Damon adds.
I lead the way to my bike, waiting as Mum’s phone rings and rings. When her voicemail picks up, I hang up and call again.
“She’s not answering. Maybe you should stay here. It might not be safe.”
She glances back at the house, then without a word, climbs onto the seat of my bike.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“I’ve spent over a year trapped between four walls. Yes, I’m positive.”
The ride back to Mum’s house feels endless. My body clenches more and more with every turn. It’s not like her to miss my calls. Even when she’s at work, or out with friends, she’s always answered me. Then I think about Alfred’s words last night, about his missed call earlier.
Could he have already gotten to her?
I tighten my grip on the handlebars and try to focus on the comforting pressure of Bailey’s arms wrapped around my waist. The warmth of her body pressed against my back. It’s the only thing keeping me grounded right now.
When we pull up the narrow street, Mum’s beat up Ford is still in its usual spot, parked against the curb. Nothing looks amiss—the gate is latched, the front door closed. But still my stomach won’t stop churning.
I cut the engine and help Bailey off first before digging in my backpack for my gun. This feeling that something’s off won’t go the hell away, and I’d rather be prepared. So I tuck it into my jeans, and pull my shirt over it.
“Leon?” Bailey’s voice is soft as she holds my shoulder.
“Just being cautious,” I murmur, retrieving the spare key from under the loose brick by the gate. My hand finds hers instinctively. “Stay right behind me, love.”
She doesn’t respond, but her fingers tighten around my bicep as I unlock the front door. The creaky hinges sound so much louder than normal.
“Mum?” I call out as we step inside.
Nothing but silence answers.
“Mum? I’m home!”
Still nothing. It feels wrong in here. Like the air was disturbed somehow. It’s too quiet. Too still.
Bailey’s grip on my arm tenses as we move through the narrow hallway.
I gesture for her to stay close as we check the sitting room first. Everything looks normal.
Spotlessly clean as usual. Mum’s knitting is sitting in a basket near the couch, her reading glasses on the side table next to yesterday’s newspaper.
“Kitchen,” I whisper, leading Bailey toward the back of the house.
The kitchen is also spotless, which again is normal for her, but even her favorite mug sits clean and bone dry in the dish rack. There’s no sign of morning tea, not even a crumb from her toast. That uneasy feeling becomes a large pit in my gut.
“Stay here,” I tell Bailey softly, leading her to wait by the back door. “If anything happens, you run. Don’t look back.”
I take the stairs two at a time, my hand resting on the gun’s grip. “Mum?” I call again, louder this time.
Her bedroom door is open slightly. I stand in front of it for a second, taking a deep breath, before pushing it open fully. I exhale, part of me was expecting to find the worst, but the room is empty. Her bed is made as always, not a pillow out of place.
I step out and notice my old bedroom door is wide open.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I step inside.
No. No. No.
The space has been completely ransacked. My desk, the command center I’d carefully set up with my laptops and equipment is bare. Every cable, every drive, every piece of specialized hardware I’d brought from New York is gone. Even the legal pad where I’d jotted down notes has vanished.
The bastard took everything. Not just my mother, but my weapons too.
“Leon?” Bailey’s voice drifts up from downstairs.
“Coming,” I call back. My voice sounds as empty as my room.
Bailey rushes up the stairs in answer, finding me staring at my empty desk. “You okay?”
I can’t turn around. Can’t face her. I’ve completely fucked up again.
Why didn’t I realize Mum was vulnerable?
I should have moved her sooner. Should have set up cameras here day one.
Or security systems. Fucking anything while I was off messing with things much bigger than one person should handle.
My hands curl into fists at my sides while I force myself to focus. Spiraling out again won’t help a damn thing.
“He took everything,” I manage to whisper through a ragged breath.
Bailey steps into the room, glancing around, before stopping in front of me. I can see how she’s studying me. Taking in the way my jaw’s clenched, how I’m barely holding it together. I don’t want her to see me like this. But fuck… I’m a mess.
“It’s not your fault,” she says quietly.
“Isn’t it?” The words come out harsher than I intended. “I should have protected her. Should have known he’d come here.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, not affected by my shitty outburst. When she speaks again, she’s quieter but her shoulders are squared, like she’s sure of the words she’s choosing.
“I used to think I could have prevented it too…What happened to me. I replayed that night over and over. What if I hadn’t gone out? What if I’d stayed inside with Layne instead of waiting alone? What if I’d paid more attention to my surroundings?”
“And what changed?” I ask, taking in the pain in her eyes.
“Something Polly said to me. She said, monsters don’t fight fair.
It’s a simple statement, but when I sat with it for a while, I realized that people like King or Sir, they want us paralyzed by guilt and fear.
That’s how they trap us… how they keep getting what they want while pulling us further and further into their game.
Your father was always going to target the people who mattered most, the only question was when.
Now, are we going to sit here punishing ourselves with what-ifs? Or are we going to fight back?”
Her words hit me deep in the chest, loosening the tight grip of self loathing that’s been squeezing and pulling at me for so long.
I grab my phone and type out a message in the group chat.
Me: He took my mum and all my equipment. We’re not safe here. Be on high alert.
My phone buzzes immediately with replies.
Damon: WTF. How??
Falin: I’m checking traffic cams in your area now… I’ll get plate numbers… Anything I can.
Jasper: Are you both okay?
Blake: Come back here. We’ll figure this out together.
I type a quick response, mainly for Falin.
Me: See if you can access neighbor cameras. Need to know if she went willingly.
“We should go,” I tell Bailey, pocketing the phone. “They could come back. I’ll bring you back to the house.”
But Bailey shakes her head, stepping closer to me. “I know you’re going after him. I’m not leaving you.”
I take her hands in mine. “Bailey, it’s not safe—”
“Neither was his estate, but you came for me anyway.” Her blue eyes meet mine with determination. “I’m staying with you. We’re going to find her.”
My phone buzzes with another text.
Falin: Found it. Your mum left with Alfred around 6 AM. No struggle. She got in his car willingly.
Relief and dread go to war in my gut. She’s alive, but she went with him. Which means either he lied to her, threatened her, or fuck… I don’t know what to think.
“What is it?” Bailey asks, reading my expression.
I show her the text. “She went with him willingly. That means he either has something over her, or he convinced her it was necessary somehow.” I drag a hand through my hair.
“Mum… she’s always carried a soft spot for him.
I could never understand it, but knowing him, he must have used that against her. ”
She nods. “I can understand how that would happen. He’s a master manipulator.”
“Exactly,” I say.
“But would he hurt her?” She voices the question that’s clawing at the front of my mind.
I wish I could give her the answer we both want to hear. “I wish I could say no, but I can’t. Not with certainty.”
“Then let’s go find her.”
I smile despite the situation, at the strength in her voice, the certainty, despite everything she’s endured. That’s the Bailey I fell in love with shining through. I love all parts of her but seeing that glimpse of fierce determination gives me hope.
“Together,” I agree.