Chapter 31
Lillian
My soulmate’s jaw ticks as he drives in silence. I hate keeping secrets from him, but my sister and I swore an oath. Long before Sean, we promised never to reveal our hiding places.
He should find a normal woman, not one who has to run at a moment’s notice. My life is a mess. If we stay together, I’ll drag him through the mud, a fate no man should have to endure.
“Stop it.” His stern voice jerks me from my thoughts.
“Stop what?” My head swivels toward him. What’s his problem? Aren’t I allowed to think?
His stony gaze fixates on the road. “Just because I’m mad doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be together. We’ll find our family, then deal with this threat. It’s how we roll.”
Exiting Route 4 near a sign for Fairleigh Dickinson University, he turns onto River Road.
At the stoplight, the device in my ear snaps to life. This time it’s Dante. “Pierre called. Said a man left a phone number at the bar. Said it was urgent. I can patch it through now, if you want.”
After a couple of rings, a pleasant female voice with the unmistakable cadence of AI answers. “Hello. I have Ruthanne and Rebecca. I will exchange them for Lillian.”
Oh no. My father has them.
Listening to the dial tone, my heart pounds so hard I can’t breathe. If I don’t comply, he’ll torture them until I do.
“No.” His fingers squeeze the wheel.
“But I can trade—”
Our boss cuts me off. “I’ll trace the call. See what I can find. The plan doesn’t change. That’s an order. Dante out.”
How can I do nothing? I seize Sean’s arm, begging, “Turn around. Please, Sean.”
“And go where?” Voice low, he glares at me.
“Back to the city. Home.” This is all my fault. He has every right to be mad. But I need the flip phone taped under my dresser, my lifeline to Becks.
Ignoring my wishes, Sean turns up a hill, passing dozens of split colonials. After a maze of turns, he pulls into a driveway where the GPS announces, “You have arrived.”
All Marine, he tosses me the keys. “Do what you want. You always do.”
The disdain in his voice brings tears to my eyes. I won’t leave, not without him. We’re partners.
Inside yet another strange home, we get ready for bed. No goodnight. No sleep tight. No I love you.
Mind buzzing, I stifle a sob and stare at the ceiling. “Do you think the robo-call was legit?”
Scowling, Sean punches his pillow. “Not a clue. Where are they, Lillian?”
“I don’t know… for sure.” With the space between us an impenetrable chasm, I roll onto my side and close my eyes.
The next thing I know, the clock says noon, his side of the bed cold.
In the kitchen, Sean slides coffee, toast, and eggs in front of me.
I miss his kiss, his cheerful “Morning, honey.” Is this what it’s like when couples fight? If so, I’m lost. All I want is to go home. Is that so much to ask?
Thank God for Dante and Daed. If not for them, Sean might’ve left me in Teaneck.
On the Triborough Bridge, tired of the silent treatment, I poke his arm. “I need to stop at home. Check on Buddy. Grab clean clothes. Could you puh-lease stop?”
“No.” Face forward, his neck muscles pulse.
Why can’t he look at me? “My father wants grandchildren. He won’t hurt me.”
As the blinker clicks, he enters the right lane to exit the highway. “I told Dante I wouldn’t stop.”
Crossing my arms, I pout. “I don’t like being bossed around.”
“I don’t like liars, but here we are.” Dark, angry eyes meet mine for the first time today.
Wow. Tears well. It’s not fair. If he had some government secret he couldn’t share, I wouldn’t press. This is entirely the same thing.
Sort of.
Fine. I can move forward without his help. Back in the warehouse, I call Mr. Antinori to ask for a favor. God knows what he’ll want in return.
Soon, a bicycle courier arrives. In the nearest closet, I hold my breath, open the package, and send a text to my sister’s special burner phone—the one we’ve had since kids.
Me: You safe?
No answer.
Shit! This is bad. Real bad.
Already late, I run down the stairs to face the angry trio of Sean, Dante, and Mace in the conference room. When Daedalus’s head pops up on the wall, it makes four.
After a brief recap, a video plays on the monitor. It stars Grams and Becks disappearing into the L train.
“It’s almost as if they had this all planned out. Knew exactly where to go.” Dante pauses, giving everyone plenty of time to scowl in my direction.
Unjustly targeted, I cross my arms. “Rebecca would never have left the safe house unless Ruthie insisted.”
“Did either of them receive a text message?” Sean’s question catches me off guard. Is he agreeing with me?
Yawning, Dante scratches his chin stubble as he leans back in his chair. “I pulled the SIM cards from their phones. Too easy to track.”
“What about emails?” I ask. There must be a hint somewhere.
A second later, Daed hisses. “Well, fuck me dead. There’s one from a lawyer. Says Ruthanne Clark has been declared incompetent by a judge. She’s to pack her things by end of day.”
“Dante, toss me a burner.” Hand outstretched, face grim, Mr. Bossy Balls stands.
My arms ache to comfort him, but we’re fighting. Instead, I try to swallow my coffee, but the lump in my throat won’t let me.
When Dante throws a device across the room, Sean catches it mid-air, opens it, and dials.
After placing it in the middle of the table, he says, “Hey, Dad. It’s your son. Where’s Grams?”
“How the fuck would I know? Don’t tell me you lost her.” Roger’s angry, loud volume gives me goosebumps, but not Sean.
His cold tone could freeze hell. “If you touch her, I’ll make sure everyone knows how much money you stole from your clients.”
“Nothing will hold up in court.” The older Clark’s confidence falters beneath his forced laugh. “And by the way, you’re not using my name anymore for whatever crap you and your wannabes are up to.”
“I’ll use your name for however long I want. By the way, you pissed off the wrong people. Hire a bodyguard. Oh, and tell your expensive lawyers to work on your defense instead of threatening your mother.”
Sean hangs up, drags a hand across his short beard, then shakes his head. “I don’t think he took her.”
Shit. That leaves Jeff Pearson, a disgruntled Parkhaven investor… or Liam Boyle.
“It’s not your father, it’s mine.” Certainty settles in my gut. “The AI voice said to swap me for them. It’s the only way.”
Ignoring their glares, I lift the secret flip phone into the air. “Becks isn’t answering my text. We have an understanding. She would’ve if she could’ve.”
“Dammit!” My ex-fiancé slams his chair into the wall and storms out, taking my heart with him.