Nine
Oz
“Samson’s left the country,” Linc said into the phone. “His secretary doesn’t know where. She pissed her pants, wailed, and begged for her life. She wasn’t lying. She’s clueless. Storm is sure of it.”
FUCK! I gripped the bottle in my hand tightly, tempted to throw it against the wall.
“Did she know if Perry had gone with him?” I asked.
I added another bastard to the list of people I wanted to kill. Samson Zephyr had just become number two.
“She said he left last night and went alone. She did say Perry came to see him and was surprised that he’d left. All she knew was that he seemed nervous and anxious when he was there. He left quickly, and he’s not been back. They sent for Wells and Sebastian to wait there in case he returns.”
Wells was Wilder’s cousin, and Sebastian was Thatcher’s younger brother. They were moving in all the Georgia boys, it seemed. Which only reminded me how angry the boss was. This had taken center stage with his attention, and again…it was my fault.
“We need more from her. Whatever you did to get her to talk, do it again. She’d said she knew nothing, but she led us to the right place. It’s a lead we can work with. Blaise has Wilder and Levi looking up everything they can on Samson Zephyr. All his contacts, business associates, et cetera.”
I closed my eyes and let out a silent sigh. I didn’t want to do that again.
The gun had made her go white, and with her olive complexion, that was saying something. She looked so helpless and terrified. It was a miracle I hadn’t walked out of the bedroom I left her in and gone to vomit. I’d felt like a fucking monster.
My gut was telling me she was innocent in all this. I was convinced she was the good little Christian elementary school teacher, and that was it. Perry was a different story. She just didn’t believe it.
“Okay,” I replied.
Telling him I’d rather eat fucking glass wouldn’t go over well. I had to get more out of her.
When we ended the call, I gripped the kitchen counter and tried to get my head straight. She’d gotten to take a shower, spend time in the comforts of the bedroom upstairs. She wouldn’t want to give that up now that she’d had it. The threat of going back to the basement could get her to tell me something. I had to give them more from her.
The fact that Blaise now had all the Georgia guys involved wasn’t good. It looked bad on our branch. As if he didn’t trust we could handle it. But then again, we had caused the problem.
Or rather, I had.
Dammit. I’d been handling this side of the business for almost seven years, and not once had I made this kind of mistake. Those damn bills were exceptional replicas. Even the Feds had missed it.
The silence upstairs continued.
I had heard the water stop draining through the pipes over three hours ago. She’d been in the bathroom for over three hours. From the sounds of it, first the shower, then the bathtub. Then some footsteps, followed by complete silence. I’d expected her to find the balcony door and open it, but she hadn’t. No chime had gone off to show she’d opened it. I’d lied and told her she wouldn’t be able to open the windows, but I’d thought she’d try anyway.
The idea that she was trying to be quiet so I’d leave her up there and not take her back to the basement made my chest feel funny. Damn, when had I become a fucking pussy? She had a roof over her head, and there were no rats or shit like that down there. I’d made sure of it. I had brought her food. There were people in much worse conditions.
It was that face. I realized I hadn’t been honest when I told her it didn’t affect me. It did. I hadn’t wanted it to, but it did. Then, she had gone and put the image in my head of a younger version of her going without food to make sure her brother ate. I wondered what else she’d gone through, but I was afraid to ask.
Steeling myself, I took one more drink from my water bottle before heading for the stairs. She needed to tell me something. I had to focus on getting her to talk. Her emotions were not my concern. Getting back the four million Perry had stolen from us was. I repeated that over and over in my head as I walked up the wide, winding staircase to the second floor.
Shoving all other thoughts from my head and shutting off my feelings, I went to the door and turned the key I’d left in it, then took one deep breath before opening it and stalking inside. My man-on-a-mission path, however, had a brief pause at the sight of her curled up, sound asleep, in the king-size bed.
The dark chestnut locks of her hair looked like silk ribbons splayed out on the pearl-colored satin pillowcase. Her plump pink lips were slightly parted as her black lashes fanned over her high cheekbones. That was not what I needed to see. Fucking hell. I had been ready to demand she talk. Pull the damn gun out again. But seeing her like this—peaceful, resting so deeply…
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed.
How was I supposed to wake her up? Linc wouldn’t be able to do it. His ass had ordered me to get her to tell me shit, doing whatever I had to do, but he wasn’t here, looking at this. The bastard didn’t realize how hard this was.
Why couldn’t Perry have had a mean, selfish, evil sister? One that I could easily force to talk, hold a gun to, leave alone in a basement? And how the hell did his ugly, scrawny ass have a sibling that looked like her? Talk about getting all the good genes from the pool. Seemed fate hadn’t saved any for Perry after she was created.
The phone in my pocket dinged, and I pulled it out.
Wilder
Perry left Atlanta on a private jet an hour ago. Seems Zephyr had one waiting for him. Haven’t found out where he went yet. Just got this info from King.
Frustration, followed by anger, coiled inside me.
Are they sure?
I wanted this to be wrong. If Perry had left the country, then this fucking captive shit wasn’t gonna end soon.
Wilder
Thatcher got the information out of the operations manager. Zephyr owns the airstrip. He is one of his employees.
Fan-fucking-tastic. The bastard had his own airstrip. Which meant he could cover his tracks better.
Do we know if the employee was telling the truth?
I was sure they’d thought of this, but I asked anyway.
Wilder
He used his knife. Did some slicing. The man told him everything and gave him the password to the computer system. Unfortunately, after King logged on, Thatcher sliced the man’s neck, thinking he was no longer needed. The password gave access only to what the man was allowed to know. There is more in the system, but it has another barrier, which I am working on breaking past. With the man dead, we can’t ask him any more questions.
My teeth ached from my grinding them so hard. Could they not control Thatcher and force him to do as ordered? I already knew that answer. No, they couldn’t. The fact that the man was engaged was baffling to me. What kind of female wanted to marry his insane ass?
I’ll see what she knows about it.
I sent it, although I was sure she had no idea.
Shoving the phone into my pocket, I looked over at her. She’d gone without food to make sure he ate, and this was how he repaid her. She had gone missing, he saw her location was in Louisiana and that her car might be parked at her apartment—thanks to Bane—but she wasn’t there, and he’d still left the country. Not even attempting to rescue her.
I’d let her sleep a little longer. The more rest she had, the clearer her head would be. She’d be able to think better. At least, that was what I told myself as I left her room, closing the door behind me.