5. Aiden
Aiden
My suspicions about Trent being on the road when we talked were correct. He’s not in London. That’s confirmed by where I’m standing now. At his home, delivering the items recovered at Rico’s, just as he requested.
The butler, a tall man with a stern face and quiet demeanor, informs me Mr. Doyle had unexpectedly been called away, and that I should leave my findings in his care.
Fuck that.
Ignoring his suggestion, I turn away and head for my car, the lingering scent of exhaust catching in my nose as I dial Trent.
When he picks up, I don’t bother with pleasantries. “Mind telling me why you had me bring these items to you when you aren’t even home?”
“Something came up that needed immediate attention. Leave it with Bernard.”
Trent hangs up before I can tell him no, the click echoing in my ear as I climb into the driver’s seat.
From the passenger seat, Silas’s voice cuts through the low hum of the engine. “What?”
“He’s not here. He told me to leave it with his damn butler.”
The engine roars to life as I slam the car into drive and pull away, the tires spinning on the pavement. “I don’t trust that old man, so there’s no way in hell I’m handing him shit.”
With a hearty chuckle, Silas fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials, switching to speaker. It takes only a few rings before his father answers.
“I’m busy.” An irritable tone, tight with barely suppressed anger, colors Trent’s words. “What do you want?”
Tossing a wink my way, Silas goads him. “Busy doing what, exactly? Something I should know about?”
“No.”
Glancing into the backseat, he plays the wildcard we have with us. “What if I told you I have the jeweler with me?”
A long, heavy silence hangs in the air before Trent finally responds. “I’m listening.”
“This isn’t a conversation one has over the phone. Where are you?” He looks in my direction, a slow, arrogant smirk stretching across his face, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Aiden and I will join you and bring our friend with us?”
A low grunt slips from my throat, barely audible, knowing Trent will be furious I disobeyed his orders and brought Silas in on this.
“Fine. I’m at Soulcombe.” He hangs up again, and I have to wonder what’s so important he can’t spare another second.
Silas rubs his hands together and turns to look at the man seated behind us. “You ready for a road trip?”
Cort shakes his head, his lack of enthusiasm clear. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea. I’ve told you all I know.”
Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. “Now you’ll share it with Trent, so buckle up. It’ll take us over an hour to get there.”
He slumps back in his seat, his shoulders sagging.
The first fifteen minutes of the drive are done in silence; or as quiet as one can be with Silas as a passenger. The man doesn’t understand that silence is golden.
Tuning him out, I focus on the road while he taunts Cort, making damn sure the man knows how fucked he is.
When he gets bored with that, he decides we need some tunes to help make the drive go faster. The fucker has a sick sense of humor.
The first song he plays is Highway to Hell, and his choices only stick to that theme. Never letting Cort forget what’s coming when we get there.
So, when my phone rings forty minutes later, its shrill sound cutting through his jarring playlist, I welcome the interruption.
“What have you learned?” And because this call is from Pauly, I make it clear he has an audience. “Understand you’re on speaker. Silas is with me, as is our friend, Mr. Theiss.”
“I’ll keep it brief,” Pauly says before getting to it. “Holster has the package secured, but not without casualties.”
“How is she?” My grip tightens on the steering wheel, knowing with Alma’s state of mind this little antic could set her back.
“She’s shaken up. L wants to move her to a secure location where the nurse and chef can look out for her while we finish up.”
Using only first initials when referring to our team is a practice we’ve adopted during missions.
Lane’s referring to my brother’s place. No one outside my team knows I even have one. Hell, I didn’t know about Wylan until a few years ago.
Out of the blue, a letter showed up about a small inheritance, my name on it, tied to the sale of my grandparents’ home. My mother had been the sole beneficiary of their estate as their only living child. I’d been disowned long before that, cast out when they kicked me to the curb.
Wylan didn’t like it. Once he found out about me, he went behind our mother’s back and gave me my share. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. His way of reaching out, extending an olive branch.
I’m glad he did.
He and his wife, Misty, run a resort near Little Haven, on the rugged Welsh coastline.
In the summer months, it’s a popular vacation spot, filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and bustling activity.
Now, it’s still early spring, so things are slow.
Perfect for hiding someone while I deal with the mess closing in around us.
Misty is a home nurse. She works with elderly patients and their families. Which makes her the perfect person for Alma, who needs someone who understands the best way to manage a person with her condition.
“Have L or K call.”
K is my sister Kimber—Lane’s wife. They met when Wylan invited me to his place so we could get to know each other and I could meet both my half-siblings.
I didn’t want to go alone, so I dragged Lane with me.
The fucker set his eyes on Kimber seconds after we arrived.
Since I trusted him more than anyone to look after her, I gave him my blessing.
“Tell them to keep it brief. Explain who’s bringing the package.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Silas glaring at me, but I ignore him. “Make sure someone stays until one of us gets there. Text me when you know more.”
“On it.” Pauly keeps it short.
“We’re heading to Soulcombe now.” There’s one more thing I need to ask before we disconnect. “Any word about Isabel?”
“I tracked the SUV as best I could. Once they pulled off the main highway, I lost them. They either switched vehicles or stayed on back roads that aren’t monitored.
It’s taking some time to gain access to the satellite images I need.
” The frustration in Pauly’s voice can’t be hidden.
The man isn’t used to hitting roadblocks.
He’s one of the best hackers out there. “I’m doing the best I can.
As soon as I know, you’ll know. We’ll find her. ”
It’s almost noon now. She’s been missing since around four this morning. The longer we take to find her, the harder this gets. Getting her out of the country won’t be easy, but it’s not impossible.
And depending on who took her… they could already have done that.
That scares the shit out of me. If we don’t find her before the forty-eight-hour mark—which is too long—our chances dwindle with each passing hour.
I refuse to accept that. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure it doesn’t come to that.
“We have to,” I grumble, ending the call with a press of the button on my steering wheel.
The car immediately fills with that fucking shitty music Silas picked. In no mood, I punch the power button and cut it off, glaring at him as I do.
He keeps his trap shut for about five minutes before he can’t help himself. “Do you mind elaborating?”
“I do, actually.”
Leaving the highway behind, I take the back roads toward Trent’s place in Soulcombe. The scenery shifts from straight lines to sharp, winding curves.
With a worried frown, Cort leans forward, his voice thick with concern. “Is what I’ve heard about this place true?”
Welcoming a change in topic, I take this one. “That depends. Which part of the property are we talking about?”
Our guest’s eyes widen as they dart between us. “What does that mean?”
Glancing in my mirrors, I check our surroundings. “I’ve never been to the main house, so I can’t say for sure. I’m sure Silas will fill us in.”
A flicker of annoyance crosses Silas’s face as he narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t think this will stop me from getting you to answer my earlier question.”
“Wouldn’t dare.” I take the corner a little faster than necessary, making both men shift in their seats. “But for now, let’s make sure Cort knows what to expect once we get to Soulcombe. Your father didn’t purchase this property for the Polo Club, right?”
“Not exactly, no.” With a slight turn of his head, Silas steals a glance at Cort. “Although it’s a lucrative business, it’s the gentleman’s club that keeps our members happy. You ever been to a proper gentlemen’s club, Cort?”
“You mean strippers?” The man nods. “Sure.”
That makes Silas snicker as he shakes his head. “No. That’s not a real gentlemen’s club. Those are nice, don’t get me wrong. But this club is exclusive, and you pay a hefty fee to join.”
“Do they have access to both the polo and the gentlemen’s club?” Cort sounds confused, which is probably why he asks, “How much would something like that cost someone?”
“Are you interested?” I take another sharp corner, this time even faster.
“Fuck, Aiden. Are you trying to kill us?” Silas grumbles after slamming into the door. “Even that arsehole thinks you’re crazy and wants to get around us.”
I ease off just enough to let the truck riding my bumper pass before the next curve. Once it’s cleared, I press down on the gas again.
“I want to get there before something else comes up and your father takes off again.”
A smirk plays on my lips as I take another corner a little faster, catching the back wheels on the gravel along the shoulder and sending us into a brief fishtail.
Cort falls back into his seat, answering the question I asked before. “No. I’m pretty sure I don’t have that kind of money. Plus, I’m married.”
Silas lets out a mocking laugh. “As are ninety percent of the men who frequent the club. Myself included.”
Never understood why men think that’s acceptable. Why stay married if you’re not happy?