Chapter 26
Gracyn
“I need your help,” I plead, my voice edged with desperation as I burst into Ray’s office. I figured I’d find him here, considering his business hours cater to the night.
The entire drive over, I found myself caught in a whirlwind of thoughts, wrestling with the decision to involve him. Ray has contacts all over the world, but a nagging doubt takes hold because Brooks is well aware that his connections don’t walk the straight and narrow.
Did Brooks tell his real dad?
But then, the thought of Presley out there, scared and alone, pushes all the hesitation aside. If it was my child missing? I’d sell my soul to the devil to find her.
He releases a deep sigh, taking a slow sip from the coffee in his hand. His face is unreadable, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes. He sets the mug down and walks toward me. “I already heard, and I’ve already contacted everyone in New York to keep their eyes and ears open.”
“How…” I pause with a tilt of my head. “How did you find out? We just found out an hour ago that she was missing.”
Ray leans against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms. “Travis called me.”
My mind scrambles to make sense of this revelation. Aren’t they enemies? But the tone in his voice tells a different story. It’s not hatred, it’s sorrow.
“Who is Travis to you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Aye Aye … um…” He stalls, dropping his gaze to the floor for a beat. “Travis and I grew up together.”
My eyes widen to saucers behind a look of disbelief. I thought the story was crazy before.
“We were best friends once upon a time. Our dads, yours and Brooks’s grandfathers, were business partners.” No shit? He pauses for a second, watching shock play across my face as my mouth gapes open. “Travis and I went our own separate ways in the business after college.” His jaw tightens. “It was all my fault. Our feud. I let greed impede our friendship. I wanted more.”
I’m still stuck on “ our grandfathers were business partners .”
“When I heard about Brooks…” He shrugs. “Now you understand my reaction. I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“You weren’t the only one,” I murmur. “That’s why Brooks was here a couple of weeks ago. That’s why the FBI was here. But it was just that. A coincidence. He was a stranger in a coffee shop who caught my eye.”
He lets out a single chuckle, humorless and bitter. “I think your grandfathers were whispering in your ears that day. They are probably celebrating in hell together.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s the Google email alert I set up to notify me whenever Brooks’s name hits the news. Dread fills my heart as I open the email, my hands trembling. My emotions well up in my throat as I read the headline. It’s about Presley. Her name. Her description. Her picture.
Confirmation of the nightmare.
This can’t be happening.
My knees buckle, but my dad steadies me, wrapping his arms around me, an uncharacteristic show of comfort. “I don’t know what to do,” I cry into his chest. “I want to be there for Brooks. But what if he doesn’t want me there?”
He pulls back enough to look me in the eye. “Gracyn, you are a Knight. We don’t sit on the sideline. We fight for what we want. If you want to be by his side through this, let’s get on a plane.”
“Let’s?” I ask slowly, looking up at him, regaining my control.
He nods, his jaw set tight. “I need to make sure Travis knows he has my full support. I’m sure he’ll be there.”
I lift a brow. After Brooks told me that their relationship is volatile, to say the least, I’m not sure if this will make things worse.
Sensing my concern, he adds, “I’ll stay out of sight. If you need me, I’ll be close.”
I swallow hard and nod, still uncertain this is a good idea, but it’s the only idea that I have. “I’ll meet you at the plane,” I say, heading for the door.
My dad has owned his own plane for as long as I can remember, but this will be the first time I’ll step foot on it. Growing up, my mom made it her life’s mission to keep me as far away from his world as possible. She didn’t want me anywhere near the shadows that seemed to follow him, or the deals whispered behind closed doors, or the loyalty and power plays that seem more like war strategies than business.
It’s why she hated that I worked at one of his hotels. She feared I was trying to edge my way into the family business. But I was a bartender, not a soldier. I rarely even saw him.
* * *
The plane darts through the inky darkness, carrying us toward uncertainty. Will Brooks ask me to leave? He wants me to trust him and to give us a chance, but is it only in my world? Will I be an intruder at a time he needs control and clarity, not chaos? The thoughts of doubt sink heavy in my belly. The knot twists, making me nauseous. It’s a good thing I’m not in a car or I’d turn around.
A chessboard is placed on the table between us. I stare at the black and white squares.
“Do you remember how to play?” Ray asks.
I raise one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I might remember a few things.”
He taught me to play when I was five, and what he doesn’t know is that I continued playing well into college. Secretly, it was the one thing that kept us connected, even though we never played again. I can’t recall the last time we were together longer than a few minutes. Our conversations are kept to phone calls or quick meet-ups in his office.
As he places the last pieces on the board, I say, “Did I tell you I got offered a job?”
Without looking up, he continues to set the board up, he replies, “You didn’t. I hope it’s not another bartender job.”
I playfully scowl at him when he glances up. “No. It’s a grown-up job. Teaching first graders.”
He hesitates for a moment. His eyes meet mine before nodding in approval. There’s a sense of pride in his expression. “Congratulations. I hope they aren’t as wild as you were when you were six.” As if he would know. He reads my silence, sitting back, and his expression softens. “Don’t assume my absence meant I wasn’t keeping tabs on you.”
“Why is that? Why did you keep your distance?”
He angles his head. “You know why. For your safety, of course. Your mom and I both agreed it was for the best. It’s about the only thing we agreed on. That woman is strung tighter than a tightly wound coil.”
I chuckle in agreement. She is a worrywart. About everything . But I don’t blame her. Even though she’s been married to two polar opposite men, both gave her a glimpse of the worst the world has to offer. That tends to harden your shell. And constantly worrying about your only child.
After a couple of hours, I try to sleep, but it’s useless. The knots in my stomach keep me up.
By the time the plane touches down, it’s seven in the morning local time. “Do you want a room at the hotel? To freshen up, or take a quick nap?” Ray asks.
I scrub my exhausted face and nod. “There’s no way I can sleep, but I can at least shower and change clothes.” Also, having a place to retreat if things don’t go well might be a good idea.