Chapter Thirty-Five
Sawyer
“FUCK!!!” Onyx roars.
Kalen is on speaker phone to Amelie’s best friend, Jason. Smalls.
We thought we managed to convince Grandfather that Amelie didn’t need to go through a regular initiation, that she has more than proved that she is capable, but he insisted that we have her kidnapped like the rest. The plan was that she would be brought to the ceremony, where all the others who passed their tests would be waiting.
We should have been suspicious, but I was confident that he believed the lies about making sure Kalen knocked her up and taking his birthright.
We agreed we would all take our spots on the board and vote against her being in charge too, so everything was in place to get rid of the old man and use his plan against him.
“We’re idiots,” Slate groans, deadpan.
“Will you all shut up!” Kalen snaps. “Amelie wants to know where you are so she can meet you. She’s safe and has a GPS on someone’s phone.”
Kalen paces with the phone in his hand and I snatch it from his grasp.
“Send her here, I will send you the address,” I bark. Smalls ends the call so that he can call Amelie back.
“What the fuck are we going to do?” Kalen demands.
“Since Branson’s family owns this place, we need to find him. Kalen, call him and tell him to meet us here now,” I instruct, taking charge.
Kalen pulls out his phone and, much to our surprise, Baxter answers.
Most likely because he’s here and bored out of his brain.
This is one event he must attend, no matter how much he wishes to distance himself from The Order.
Blood in, blood out, and until that happens, he’s at the mercy of the board as much as the rest of us.
The wait is agonising. You never know with Branson if he will just pop out of the shadows or take his sweet ass time. Onyx looks about two seconds from smashing something, Slate’s on the verge of tears, and Kalen is a nervous ball of energy wearing a line into the carpet.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure, after our last encounter…?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Onyx snaps, making Baxter laugh.
“Amelie has been kidnapped,” I say, forcing myself to keep calm. Baxter narrows his eyes like he doesn’t quite understand what I’m saying.
“All initiates are kidnapped,” he points out, unconcerned and unimpressed. “My grandfather said you managed to convince them to have Amelie skip the pleasantries. It’s the only reason I didn’t kidnap her myself and make a run for it.”
“Well, that’s what we thought too, but her Australian friend just called; she was going to be sold as a sex slave.”
Murder flashes across Baxter’s face.
The one thing we actually have in common is our hatred for Harold and his outdated views. I guess now we have two things in common: that, and a connection to Amelie.
“We can’t kill him. With no proof, we would be hung the second we tried. We need to be smart. Amelie is on her way here, but we need weapons, in case this turns ugly.”
“On it,” is all Baxter says, pulling out his phone and typing away. He looks up when he’s done. “Service entrance in ten minutes.”
We’re all heading towards the door when Kalen’s phone rings. We stop to listen.
“Amelie is twenty minutes away, she said you might need to call an ambulance.”
My gut sinks. She’s hurt and it’s all our fault.
“Smalls says he doesn’t have any other information, she hung up to save battery power. I’ll call an ambulance now then.”
We move towards the service entrance, where a van pulls up and Baxter greets the driver.
Baxter is given a black duffle bag and I know that after this, he owes a favour.
He doesn’t give those out very often, it’s too dangerous for him because he is so damn good at what he does.
That power in the wrong hands would not be a good thing.
Yet we don’t ask any questions; we would all do the same for him.
Blood in, blood out. The bond of The Order is strong, even when we hate someone. And I don’t hate Baxter, not really.
We all get guns. It isn’t the first time we’ve used them. I know I was introduced to weapons from the age of two. Probably not the wisest idea considering my parents weren’t the most stable of people, but I turned out okay. Mostly.
“This doesn’t mean you’re in our harem now!” Kalen snaps, and Baxter smirks at him. Kalen should know better than to put ideas like that into his head.
“I don’t mind the sound of being a brother husband,” Baxter taunts. “And Amelie seemed to really like kissing me. Every time.”
Kalen’s eyes go wide. Onyx’s knuckles crack. I bite back a grimace. I’m pretty sure he’s teasing. Pretty sure, but not certain. Christ, that’s a mess we’re going to have to talk about too at some point.
“This is no time for bullshit! Be ready,” Onyx demands. “I’ve texted Jasper and Frost to meet us here.”
“Can we trust them?” I ask. I know they are part of The Order and that means they don’t work for us.
“Yes,” Baxter says. “Both Frost and Jasper owed me, so they are not doing this as part of The Order. This is owed to me directly.”
They both must have owed him big time; they have been with Amelie for weeks now. I can’t even imagine trading in favours outside of The Order. Baxter must really command respect from those two to make it personal.
We don’t bother going back inside. All the members will be drinking their expensive whiskey, preparing to celebrate the new members. Nothing will have been announced yet.
The celebration we were looking forward to was telling Amelie the asshole who tried to break her fingers didn’t make it. Onyx set a task so hard that I doubt he himself would even have passed it.
As minutes pass, we all wait in silence. Five minutes...then ten. We all start to get anxious, even Baxter – which is unlike him. He’s never taken a liking to anyone in the time I have known him, unless he has an agenda, but his unquestionable loyalty to Amelie is almost unnerving.
Finally, a set of headlights comes into view and the limo we were waiting on screeches into the driveway, barely missing other cars. It comes to a stop right before us, and Onyx has to jump out the way to avoid being hit.
We all have our weapons ready, not knowing what is about to happen.
Amelie hops out of the car just as Frost and Jasper race to our side.
I take in her appearance, quickly but thoroughly.
Her lip is swollen and dried blood crusts around the corner.
Her hair is dishevelled and the strap of her dress’ right arm has been broken.
There are various scrapes and bruises forming, and the hideous pink dress that I know Amelie would never wear by choice is torn and stained.
A large chunk of the hem of the dress is missing – ripped clean off so it’s almost indecently short.
Kalen is the first to move and she jumps into his arms. I won’t lie and say jealousy didn’t rear its ugly head. It does. Fiercely. But I tamp it down. Now’s not the time.
She points to the car, and Onyx and Slate both move to the doors, but don’t find whatever it is that she was pointing to. Jasper leans into the front of the vehicle and pops the boot. We all move to the back of the limo while Kalen keeps Amelie close.
A man I recognise is tied up and bleeding, with a cracking lump on his forehead.
“What is he tied up with?” Slate asks and Frost leans in closer.
“Dental floss, I think.” I smirk at that.
The guy groans as Frost and Jasper both grab him by his arms and lift him from the car.
He starts to come to, looking around but unable to scream with a scrap of magenta material shoved into his mouth.
That explains the torn dress then. He also has an innocent-looking, but deceptively sharp nail file sticking out of his neck.
The limo driver is nowhere to be seen, but we’ll find him and take care of him too.
I really think we all underestimated her and it’s impossible to keep how impressed I am from showing on my face.
Loud, slow, obnoxious clapping comes from the front of the building, and we all turn around to see what is going on.
Harold is walking down the stairs, his suit impeccable as always, his gold rings glinting so brightly in the light that they could be seen from space. Behind him, with a confused look on his face, our father follows.
Relief that Dad wasn’t in on it floods my veins. We don’t share the same agenda as Harold, but I was beginning to wonder if Dad did. The bewilderment in his eyes convinces me he doesn’t.
“I really didn’t think you could do it.”
We all go rigid. I grab Onyx by the arm because if anyone is going to do anything stupid right now, it’ll be him. He won’t care.
We’ve had the argument for years that only one of the twins will be on the board – the rules are one from each family – and Onyx appointed Slate because he is the more level-headed out of them both.
Onyx was going to go into training instead, he said he wanted to lead in something that mattered.
Like bringing in guys like this asshole and making sure they pay.
Or the way we do it, just take them out quickly and quietly. No one would even know it was us.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “What’s done is done, we can’t ruin our chance.”
“You were going to sell me!” Amelie seethes, her tone surprisingly even. Crying or showing any form of emotion to this man would come across as weakness, and our girl has already realised that.
“Two birds, one stone, my darling.”
My blood boils when he calls her that, my own hands curling into fists like my brother’s.
“But I wasn’t going to sell you. I already did sell you.
You see, Christos here has been on our radar for a long time.
When he popped back up just a week ago, I had a thought: I could lure him with a beautiful girl.
One that my son and grandsons keep telling me is leadership material.
It got me thinking, if that is the case, she should be able to get herself out of this easily enough. ”