“It happened too fast, mate,” he answered my unsaid question. “We were shadowing them like you asked. The van pulled up and the Italian pushed her through the door.”
“What are they going to do with her?” Monica demanded of Emma’s cousin, her purse reared and ready to strike.
I held her arm back. Angry eyes bore into mine, her splotchy face snarling as much as the Botox would allow.
“If they wanted her dead, she would have been dead before she even fell to the street,” I said before letting go and holding my hands palm up. “The will is in place; killing her doesn’t give Turner what he wants. No, he wants to negotiate, thinks he can threaten her to push me out.”
“You’re not going to let him hurt her, are you?” my mother-in-law said, examining me the same way her daughter had many times.
“We are tracking them two ways now, and if I know Emma, she’s not the damsel in distress her brother might think she is,” I answered, then pointed to the muscle holding our captive captive. “Keep him here and keep him quiet. We’re going after them.”
“I’m coming too,” Monica said.
She had a mean right hook with that purse, but in a real fight? She might end up a bigger hindrance than help but I couldn’t say no.
15
Playing the Turncoat?
Emma
Ireared up to glare at my brother as he snatched my arm. My eyes shot wide and I forced myself to relax. Blood dripped from the diamond on my finger. It welled around Sal’s hand that he held over his cheek. I’d gouged him good – a pity my brother had stopped me before I got his eye.
“Ewan?” I asked, wide eyed and perfectly innocent.
My initial rage at being kidnapped, for the second time in the last two weeks, had already started to wane. I didn’t regret attacking Sal for the part he’d played in it, but I should have waited. Having my stepfather bleeding and thrashing around on the floor of the van made my next move harder.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I babbled and hugged close to my brother. “That brute forced me to marry him. He kidnapped me from Paris, said he’d kill my mom if I didn’t go through with it.”
He stiffened in my embrace, frozen and hopefully confused enough to get sloppy. At the very least, I could keep them guessing so I could find a way to escape. Playing the damsel in distress never came naturally, but if I did it right, they would underestimate me. Their reaction offered me a lot insight about their plans too.
My brother pulled away and frowned at me. Narrowed eyes examined me and the corners of his lips drooped further. My plan would have worked a lot better if he’d actually felt even a niggling of familial love for me. I could at least fake it.
“Would you be willing to testify to those facts in court?” he asked.
“Of course,” I replied and forced my lips to remain flat.
The smile that wanted to bloom would have given the game up. My brother’s greed and lust for power surpassed his good senses. Classic confirmation bias. He wanted control of the Families and was happy to listen to a pleasant lie if it purported to help him.
“Don’t listen to that bitch,” called a sour voice from the front of the van, a familiar voice.
The older man who’d pissed me off so badly at my brother’s wedding sat in the driver’s seat. His angry eyes bulged at me in the rearview mirror.
“I saw them together after your wedding,” the older man continued. “They were buddy buddy even back then. That fucker sucker punched me after she accused me of groping her.”
Well, shit. There went my chances of playing the damsel in distress card. Wouldn’t be the first time me acting before thinking had closed some doors. Hell, I’d just attacked Sal. Ewan already loathed me, he would believe his man over me every damn time.
“Are you lying to me, sister?” Ewan said, spitting the last word.
“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine,” I replied, inching out of his reach. “Did you kill our father?”
Ewan’s jaw dropped, mouth as wide as his eyes. The van fell silent. It was a shocking question, meant to keep them guessing, and hopefully give me the answer.
He’d deny it, no matter what. I knew that even before his jaw trembled and the angry red flush splotched his pale cheeks as he searched for his own response. His expressions presented my only chance for a true answer.
“Wh… why would… how could you even ask me that!” My brother sputtered at the start but played into his anger.
So Ian was right about that. My brother had killed our father. The cousin holding his nose hardly responded. Given how he’d threatened me before the wedding, no surprise he already knew. The ass behind the wheel glared in the rearview though. Closer to my father’s age than my brother’s, he remained loyal to the son but not at the expense of the father.
