Chapter 44
RANSOME
“Is this really necessary?” Amara asks as she squeezes between two security guards to come yell at me.
Ever since the baby shower started, I’ve been perched in front of the foyer between the living room, which has been desecrated by a disgusting amount of baby-themed decor, and the front door, which is bolted and secured by another guard.
There are five total, and that’s just on the immediate property.
Amara thinks it’s overkill. She doesn’t even know about the guys I have on standby.
“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” I tell her as I take a sip of whiskey.
“There’s barely any room to move around,” she hisses through a smile to hide our argument from the guests. I’d love to take all that spice into the bedroom and teach it a lesson, but seeing as how she’s the life of the party, people are bound to notice if she goes missing.
“If you’re feeling claustrophobic, any one of these people can be asked to leave. Anyone but the security,” I tell her.
Amara glares up at me, but I just give her a little smirk. She shakes her head and makes her way back to her friends, turning her smile back on again.
“She’s not wrong,” Maverick says. “There are a lot of people here.”
“I’m kind of surprised you let her invite so many people,” Baron says around a sip of his beer.
Then Amara glances over. Her smile sours into a glare again.
“Jesus,” Maverick says as she makes her way back over.
“Yikes,” Baron adds. “I don’t know what you did, boss. But the Missus is looking a little unhappy.”
But I’m not afraid of whatever mood swing this is. If anything, her hissy fits have never not been a turn-on. “Trouble in prenatal paradise?” I ask.
“Hand it over,” she snaps, and we all look at her.
“Wait,” Maverick asks. “Is she talking about our beer? Because I’m not about to be told—”
“I said no booze at the shower,” she snaps. “If I can’t drink, neither can anyone else.”
The guys look at me and I shrug. “You heard her.”
Before they can protest, Amara swipes the beer bottles from their hands. It pisses them off and earns a grin from me.
Until rears up at me as well.
“What?” I ask.
Her eyes dart from mine to the glass in my hand.
“You have to be fucking kidding,” I tell her.
“If that’s her kidding, boss, I’d hate to see her mad…” Maverick mumbles.
“Whose house is this?” I ask.
“Whose party is this?” she asks. “Because if you ruin it, I’m going to want a redo.”
I narrow my eyes at her. She does the same. Then, with our glares locked, I down the rest of my whisky and hand her the empty glass.
Amara is less than amused as she stomps off. Meanwhile, Maverick and Baron are choking back laughs.
“Who are all these people anyways?” Baron asks.
“The brunette who stays within two feet of her at all times is Electra.”
“The one in the turtleneck?” Mav asks. “I thought she was the town bicycle.”
“Yeah, well, whoever she’s dating doesn’t like to share. From the sounds of it, he’s got her padlocked to a pole.”
Amara has expressed more concern about this Sean guy Electra has been seeing, asking me to look into it. If I wasn’t trying to smoke out Tristan’s jailbreak army, I’d get right on that.
“The other two girls are from her yoga class,” I say. Other than that, it’s a few people from the office, my mother, and Jenica.
Yes. Jenica.
She wasn’t too excited about it at first, but we agreed that public appearances are important for a little while longer, just so things don’t all blow up at once. Now, as all the girls play some dumb game with safety pins and cotton balls, she actually seems to be having fun.
“Any word on Tristan recently?” I ask.
“Nope,” Maverick says, and my jaw clenches.
“As in, he hasn’t been causing any problems or—”
“As in, nobody knows where the fuck he is.”
Shit.
“Wherever he was hiding for the last six months, he’s burrowing again,” Baron says.
“And the sewer rats he was rallying?”
“M.I.A. as well,” Baron answers.
“For how long?” I snap, trying my best to keep my voice down.
“About a week,” Maverick says.
“That can’t be good,” Baron murmurs.
I shake my head. “No, it cannot.”
The only thing worse than watching Tristan fuck up my life is not knowing where he is, but knowing he’s still planning to fuck with me.
“You think he’s run off?” I ask.
“I don’t,” Maverick says. “I think he’s nearby. Watching. Waiting. I think he’s close to attacking. And he’s going to start wherever hurts us the most.”
I watch Amara smiling and laughing as she sits on the couch, all her friends gathered around her, including my mother and even Jenica as she opens gifts from everyone.
She’s happy. Loved. And she’s carrying my child.
The idea of someone wanting to hurt her sends fire through my veins.