Chapter eight
Wyecroft Pawnbrokers, The City of London
Violet
“Five thousand?” I stammer. “That’s it?” The man behind the desk shrugs his shoulders. “My father told me it was worth at least ten thousand, and that was years ago.”
“Perhaps it was then, ma’am,” he says politely. “But today I can offer you five thousand pounds, cash. No ID required, no paper trail. You said on the phone that is what you needed?”
I stare down at the gold ring that was my grandmother’s. My heart breaks as I think about letting it go. But with no money and nowhere to stay at this point in time, I can’t afford to be prissy about it.
“Okay,” I say, resigned. “And it will remain in the shop for twenty-eight days?” He nods. Not that I think I will have the money to buy it back by then, but it feels better to have the option.
“I’ll organize your cash. I’ll only be a moment,” he says before turning and scurrying away through a door behind him.
This was the only pawn shop I could find that would process my request: no documentation required.
After leaving Harry’s bed this morning, I realized I was on my own.
The position I’d got myself into was my fault.
No one else was going to fix it for me. Not my brothers.
Not Harry. I had no right to ask that of them.
When I left, I considered going to Connor and asking for help.
But the fact remains that so much time has passed, I don’t know any of them anymore.
Sleeping with Harry, my childhood crush, had cemented that.
If I hung around, all that would happen is we would become more confused, more intertwined.
His instinct is to protect me—it always has been, I see that.
When I was a teenager, he stood up to my brothers.
Yesterday, he claimed to be the father of a baby that isn’t his.
But when the smoke cleared and we’d had a taste of one another, reality returned, and he withdrew. Again.
In bed with him, I felt safe and wanted.
Waking up next to him had given me a false sense of hope.
The feeling lasted a matter of minutes before dissipating.
As I watched him dress in his sleek suit, then speak of his night ahead, I realized my notion was ridiculous.
My brothers and him are city boys living the high life, rubbing shoulders with men you’d rather not meet.
The last thing any of them will want is a little sister and her baby hanging around.
As I shut the door of his bedroom, my decision to leave was finalized. Where, I didn’t know, but somewhere I could fade into the chaos unnoticed.
The pawn shop owner reappears with a wad of notes. He counts them out deliberately in front of me, then places them into a brown envelope before passing it over. I drop the ring into his palm. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he says.
After stuffing the envelope into my pocket, I turn and leave. I’ll need to find somewhere to stay and a way to make a living. Five thousand pounds isn’t going to last me long, not in the City of London.
***
Harrison
“Where’s my sister, Waite?” Russell bellows. Our Wednesday night drinking session morphed into an interrogation as soon as he arrived.
“A hotel, seemingly.” I try to be calm as I reply, but no one has heard from Violet since she left this morning. I’m furious with her for leaving. “She told Mrs. D. she was going to check into a hotel. I don’t know which one.”
“What fucking happened? What did you do to make her run?”
“Nothing!” I snap. “I opened my home to her when you were being a dick. She isn’t my fucking sister. She didn’t want to stay. She didn’t need to. She’s a big girl, Russ. She’s managed without us all long enough.”
“You seemed quite content playing happy families with her the other night,” he snarls.
“I was trying to do the right thing.” After taking another swig of my beer, I ready myself to tell him about the incident in my apartment. “Marley knows she was here; he turned up last night. Perhaps that spooked her.”
The five of us sit in my living space, where a soccer match plays on my wide-screen television.
Hunter and Damon are debating the strategy the winning team is using.
They attempt to keep the mood light, but it doesn’t work.
Russell, Connor, and I are discussing Violet’s sudden appearance, then disappearance, and what to do about it.
An ice bucket of beer sits on the coffee table between us all.
“What did the bastard say?” he growls.
“He got handsy with her. I removed him from the premises and dealt with the hopeless idiots on the door who let him in.”
“Why am I only finding out about this now? After my sister has run off, again? We need to fucking find her. I’ve only just told my mother she’s back. It will kill her if I’ve lost her again.”
A concerned look flits across his face—genuine worry for his mum and his sister.
I decide not to tell him about the pregnancy.
It feels like a breach of Violet’s trust.
When we find her, she can tell him herself.
“What do you need?” Hunter asks, interrupting our conversation. “Between my connections and Damon’s access to CCTV, we should find her no problem. What does she look like? Do you have a picture?”
“What’s her financial situation?” Damon adds.
“Good question,” Hunter agrees. “Does she have access to money? Or will she be relying on her bank cards?”
“I have a photo,” I say, not looking at either of her brothers.
“I’ll get it.” After rising from my chair, I go to my bedroom and remove the photo of Violet from when we were teenagers that’s pinned inside my wardrobe.
I still keep it; it’s never felt right to throw it out.
Sometimes over these past years I would take a moment to look at it and wonder, if I’d been braver, what could have happened.
On returning to the living room, Russell’s eyes burn my skin. He watched me leave, and I’m certain he glared at the direction I took until I returned. I pass the photo to Damon and Hunter. “It was a few years ago, she still looks like this, but a little more grown up.”
“I bet she is,” Hunter says with a chuckle.
“Waite,” Russell growls as he stands and walks behind the two men looking at the photo. “Care to tell me why the fuck you have a picture of my sister in a bikini in your bedroom?”
“You don’t want to know,” I answer firmly. “And it’s none of your business.”
He moves so quickly, I don’t stand a chance to prepare.
For a big man, he’s athletic, jumping over the sofa in one move then grabbing at my shoulders, pushing me backward.
He slams me hard against the wall. A fifty-thousand-pound painting crashes to the floor; the glass frame smashes, scattering shards across the room.
“If that filthy cock of yours has been near my little sister,” he snarls, raising a fist into the air, “I’ll end you, you selfish bastard.” His hand crashes down across my cheek and being pinned against the wall, I take its full force.
“Are you done?” I say to him, glaring openly. “Do you feel better now you’ve cracked my fucking face? Your little tantrum is really helping us find her.”
His hand moves to my throat. My eyes narrow—he doesn’t frighten me. Considering Russell is a bully, he’s never been able to take me on. I’ve seen so much worse than him over the years.
“My family took you under their wing,” he growls, “when that lowlife mother of yours checked out. We supported you so you didn’t get buried too. And this is how you repay me, my family, by fucking my little sister. Making her run.”
“Leave my mother out of this,” I argue. “I asked Vi to stay.”
“Did you fuck her?” he asks again.
I can’t lie to him. He’ll know. He knows me better than anyone.
Russell is the big brother I always wanted.
It was he who brought me to his parents when he found me in a ditch at eight years old, half-dressed in the snow.
That was the day my life changed for the better, the day I found the Chase family—or they found me.
“Fucking asshole,” he mutters, then releases me. “Violet has always been a hard no. You were warned. Once we find her, you better fucking pray she’s in one piece. I’m holding you personally responsible for any scratches on her.” He steps back, allowing me room to move.
“We better get a move on,” I retort. “Damon, can you get her face run through the system? See if she’s been picked up on any CCTV?”
I turn to the one man in the room I trust implicitly.
Damon McKinney always has my back. Since I met him on a murder case a few years ago, he’s become one of my closest confidants, though I’ve mentioned little of Violet to him.
No one truly knows how I feel about her.
“On it, Waite,” he says, typing furiously into his screen after snapping an image of the photo.
“I’ve sent her photo to my team on the ground.” Hunter’s voice cuts through the silence. “Once we have a location, we’ll pick her up. Now, my question again—does she have money?”
“I doubt it. She turned up here with nothing.”
“Anything missing from here?” he asks, his eyes scanning the room.
“My sister is not a fucking thief, Devane,” Russell roars.
“I didn’t say she was. But desperate people...” He trails off as Russell approaches him. “Don’t think about it, Chase. I’m a lot quicker with a knife than you. Pick your battles wisely. You need me on your side. I fund your lifestyle. Remember that.”
Connor chooses this moment to intervene.
It’s easy to forget he’s here most of the time.
“Russ,” he says, “calm down. Everyone here wants the same result. We all want to find Violet safe and well.”
He glances at me. “For our own reasons. Let them help find our sister. Finishing anyone in this room isn’t going to bring her back.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Russell mutters petulantly.
“Always the fucking voice of reason. Fine.”
He turns in my direction. “Keep your distance, Waite. I haven’t forgotten what’s transpired today. Business associate or not, you’ll pay for overstepping the line.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Off limits, understand? My little sister will never be in your bed again. After this is done, you and I are finished.”
He storms off in the direction of the door.
“Where are you going?” Connor shouts to his retreating back.
“To find my sister.”
I move to the sofa and throw myself down. Connor watches me, not speaking. I sit with my head in my hands. The sofa sags beside me as Damon comes to my side. His hand lands on my shoulder. “We’ll find her,” he says. The remaining men in the room never take their eyes off me—I feel every one of them.
“We need to,” I mutter. “I need to apologize.”
“How long?” Connor asks, surprising me. I lift my eyes to his. “How long has there been something between you both?”
“She’s been away for over a decade. How can something be going on?” I reply.
“A person doesn’t necessarily have to be with you to hold your heart. Be honest with me. When we find her, what do you want to happen?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “I’m not exactly husband material.”
“Husband material?” he says, lifting an eyebrow. “Fuck, Waite, I only meant do you want to date her?” Everyone laughs, the situation lightened for a moment.
“I’ve loved your sister since that last summer in Kensington,” I say to Connor. “No one has ever come close. Violet Chase took up residence in my heart with her shy glances and sarcastic comments.” I smile to myself. “She’s one in a million.”
“How does she feel about you?”
I shrug. “Confused, most likely. It’s hard when what you want isn’t what you can have.”
“Let’s find her before making any permanent decisions, Waite.” He walks over and pushes my shoulder. “You’ve been like a brother to me for twenty years. I have no issue with you and her. Russell has always been territorial, but he’ll come around.”
“I’ll always be the boy he found in a ditch,” I mutter. I glance up and see the other men giving me a curious look. I look away. They don’t know the story of how I found myself here. Only the Chase family does.
“That boy turned into a man I’m proud to call a friend. A brother. Where we start in life is not a roadmap to where we end up. You’re proof of that.”
My gaze stays firmly fixed on the floor.
He turns away from me and his feet disappear from my view as he walks toward the door. “Now, let’s find Violet.”