Chapter 21 Royal
ROYAL
NO SERVICE
She fell asleep three hours ago. After dinner together and one cheesy movie later, conversation slowed until Leticia drifted off to sleep. Luckily for me, she plugged her phone in before propping it up next to her.
Precious mate. My wolf sighs as he relaxes within me.
I’m in the final couple minutes of running data on a job for Valor, which luckily doesn’t require a lot of paying attention, and I can watch her sleep.
Leticia softly murmurs something.
I run my hand through my hair again and rehash the conversation where I called tonight a date. I can’t believe I did that.
I can. My wolf snarks. We’re going to keep our mate.
The data run dumps important information into the spreadsheet, and I try to focus on it to review the findings, but Leticia snores softly, and I turn to look at her instead.
Sleepy, so sleepy. My wolf huffs out an exhale, and I can feel exhaustion slipping in.
Before climbing into bed, I grab my phone and send Valor a text, letting him know his data report needs to be double-checked but that I’ll do it in the morning.
From watching her bedroom’s security camera footage, I know exactly how Leticia is lying in bed. I pick the opposite side of my bed, placing my phone where she’d be lying, and watch her from this angle.
It will kill me to watch her marry someone else.
My wolf beds down inside me. He spins in a small circle, content to curl up and watch her. We won’t let her. It doesn’t have to be complicated like you make everything.
I wish it was just as simple as claiming her as our own and that a small declaration would fix the cavernous obstacle between us.
Letting my phone stay connected, I drift off the same way Leticia did.
In the morning, the video call was disconnected, and a text message from Leticia was in its place.
Leticia:
You snore. I’m hanging around the house today, purging my closet, if you want to talk while I do so. Totally understand if you’re busy.
I’ve sent her a couple of messages since then, but it’s been over an hour, yet no response.
My pulse is pounding in my head, and a tightness in my chest has me unsettled. I was trying to behave and not spend so much time watching her.
But what if she’s been kidnapped and no one knows she’s gone but me? What if she’s hurt and the guards they left her with don’t know?
The camera feeds to Casa D’Medici are up in just a few keystrokes. The shortcut auto programmed itself with how frequently I go there.
I drop the password into the private camera feed to her bedroom after scouring the rest of the house.
On an exhale, my shoulders drop, the tension fades, and a smile finds its way onto my face.
Leticia is in her bedroom, a mountain of clothes piled on her bed, and I’m pretty sure her phone is buried somewhere underneath it.
What a mess, no wonder she can’t hear us. My wolf shakes his head, preferring neat and tidy spaces. He can’t imagine being in that chaos.
Unfortunately the report for Valor and a mountain of other work need to be done, so I move her room feed off to the other screen and delve into work.
It’s noon before I get a message from Leticia.
Leticia:
OH GOD. I lost my phone and totally spaced, please don’t be mad.
Royal:
I could never be mad.
My wolf snorts. Liar. You’d be mad if you couldn’t find her. But you had a camera, so you weren’t mad.
It’s not mad. I’d be scared and upset. I argue with him.
Leticia:
How is your day going?
Royal:
Oh, excellent. Just the usual, work, a little more work, and a side of . . . you guessed it, work.
But then a gorgeous woman texted me and made my day better.
What are you up to, gorgeous?
I look over at the screen. Her room is . . . slightly less messy than it was before.
Leticia:
I’m through the worst of the closet clean out. Now it’s just to put everything away and get the donate-able items in bags.
Thinking about Chinese leftovers for lunch, what are you having?
The empty cup of coffee and plate where I heated up Dad’s leftovers from Ellery’s last night don’t lend much in the way of lunch.
Royal:
Hadn’t decided yet. I’ll go take a look at the fridge while you reheat your food.
We can call while we eat and pretend we’re having lunch together.
I pocket my phone and head upstairs to the kitchen.
“Mom?” I call into the quiet house.
When I decided to live at home, there weren’t a lot of rules or discussions. But usually we text each other if we’re leaving, just a general heads-up.
She doesn’t answer, and I walk through the house to the stairs that lead upstairs to her and Dad’s bedroom. Closer to the stairs, I hear her chatting on the phone with a friend. It sounds solemn and not a happy discussion.
My unsettledness could be fueled by Mom’s tension. The whole house radiates with it.
Even with that knowledge, though, the anxiousness isn’t fading. First, I couldn’t find Leticia, and then Mom wasn’t immediately at my beck and call.
I’m being paranoid. Brush it off.
It’s not paranoia if someone is out to get you. We’re Mafia. It could happen. My wolf gives me at least an excuse for the tension.
I mosey back to the kitchen, rolling my shoulders with hopes of freeing up that extra tension.
It’s much warmer up here than it is in my lair. Maybe I’m venting too much server heat outside rather than into my living environment.
A knock comes to the front door, and Mom and Dad’s refusal to put a wall monitor in the main living area means I can’t see who it is without pulling up their security system on my phone. Which would take longer than it would to just go see who it is.
I shouldn’t be this on edge. They’d have to be let through the gate by the security staff, which means it’s either someone on the preapproved list — family and pack members — or it’s an expected contractor, which is something I’d be notified of.
But I trust the instinct. Letting my wolf rise to the surface, I grab a gun from the sofa table before heading to the door. Chambering a round, I double-check the safety before tucking it into my waistband behind my back.
“I got the door,” I call up the stairs to Mom, but I don’t hear an acknowledgment.
The front door is bulletproof, and I look out through the peephole, finding that the visitors fall on the list of ‘family and pack members.’
Charlie Murphy is standing midway down the walk, and James Kirk is climbing out of the driver’s side of the van.
They’re not anyone intimidating. A couple of lower-level members of the mob, they primarily do odd jobs like deliveries and security.
I walk barefoot out onto the frozen concrete, closing the door behind me.
“James, what’s going on?” I look past him at one of our work vans, normally used for odd jobs but not something I’d associate with him.
“We need you to come with us,” James says from where he leans against the side of the van. He’s disheveled, coat askew, and looks like he’s been up for days.
Why? My wolf snarls.
“To what end?” I press for information. “No offense, but you two aren’t exactly people I take orders from.”
“A job went bad. We need your help. We’ll explain on the way.” Charlie attempts to usher me toward the van.
He’s in rough shape too. In the years I’ve known him, he’s never grown a beard, but now? Days-old scruff is paired with dark circles under his eyes.
A wicked wind whips past them over to me, and I catch a sharp nose full of acidic fear.
I shake my head. “That’s not happening. I’m going nowhere.”
Charlie pulls a gun but holds it low at his side as if trying to conceal it.
“Let me make it easy for you, Royal. There are two of us and one of you. You shoot me, James shoots you and then goes in the house and finishes off your mom. Betty will never hear the shots. She’s talking to Marge and Nancy because Derek and Alicia’s son Collin was killed last night in a hit-and-run.
So they’re arranging the funeral. Means she won’t have time to pull a weapon.
Does Betty shift fast in her old age? Faster than a bullet? ”
He did not just talk about Mom that way. My wolf snarls and snaps his teeth.
But while he talks, I’ve been running through the scenarios, and he’s right. I’m a good shot, but I’m not Valor good. I’m not confident I can kill both of them and protect Mom. Shifting or not, these guys clearly have it thought out.
“Or, you can come with us, and Betty gets to live.” James pushes off the van and slides open the side door without even turning away from me.
Better chance at killing them both if we’re all in the van. Someone has to focus on driving. My wolf and I agree on the best course of action.
It takes everything in me to push my feet forward toward the van.
As I step, Charlie tucks his gun back into his jacket.
When I get close enough to him, he grabs hold of my arm and twists it backward.
I try to fight him off, but he grabs my gun from the small of my back, and I know the sound of a safety being flicked off well enough to stop fighting.
“Don’t make me paralyze you. One bullet, you go down and you don’t get back up. Tech guys don’t need to walk in order to work.” He pushes the barrel of the gun into my spine. “Do as you’re told, and maybe when this is done, you get to live.”
“Get to live. Great,” I growl.
Mom will know I’m missing. She knows I wouldn’t leave without texting her. She’ll call Valor.
Or instead, we kill them before leaving the front gate? My wolf conspires.
Need information. Why are they doing this? I argue with him as I’m shoved toward the van.
As I approach, the scent of stale cigarette smoke permeates the cold winter air.
I choke on it and cough as I’m thrust through the van door.
My knees slam against the metal floor when I fall forward.
Catching myself with one hand, I try to sit upright and move toward the side of the van, but something whacks me on the back of my shoulders and neck.
Fairly certain it’s the butt of my own fucking gun.