Brady scoffs. “Nothing would be more important to him than fucking up the gallery.”
Easton sits up, wincing at the pull to his leg. “So let’s make him think it’s a different day.”
Now I’m fucking confused. “How?”
Blake, as always, catches on before me. “No, that’s a good idea, actually. Especially if we can make it seem like the boys leave for some reason, but they don’t. That way he’s willing to risk it just being me.”
“And then what?” I squawk. “We whip out the handcuffs and perform a citizen’s arrest?”
Brady sniggers like I’m making a joke, but I really am not. This has got to be a result of true crime culture or something.Not that I’d turn down the chance to shove that fucker’s teeth into a curb, but he’s got a fucking hostage—who is a minor—stashed somewhere, and an itchy trigger finger when it comes to a blond-haired, blue-eyed guy I’d like to keep around.
“No, dumbass. We call Isaac or Chief Brooks and let them handle the rest. If we can keep him in one place long enough for them to show up and not get killed or injured in the process, it’s not a half-bad idea,” Blake insists.
I’m developing a severe headache. I knew I’d hate it, but I still ended up surprised at how much I truly loathe the idea of Easton being in danger again, and all of us—me and the two weirdos I collected in college like Poke´mon—trying to keep a murderer in line.
This is a horrible idea. And somehow, no one has a better one that allows a guarantee that Easton can have his gallery and not be attacked when we have our backs turned. If we keep letting Aaron control the game, we’re bound to lose. I try to have faith that they’re doing everything possible trying to find Asher and arrest that son of a bitch. I really do. But after weeks of them finding nothing while the personal attacks against us are ramping up speed, I’m running out of excuses.
“Babe, just for the sake of clarity,” Blakely starts. “Which came first: you hearing sirens or Aaron taking off?”
Easton sighs. “Well, it’s not like I was the most observant person on the face of the earth at the time, but he left before I heard them. No doubt. Because I stood there trying to figure out what happened after he sped past me.”
“Why?”
It seems like a redundant question. None of us know what the fuck we’re doing or why we’re asking what we are, but it slips out regardless. “Well, I’m wondering if he heard them in his car and got spooked or if he knew they were coming.”
“Like a police scanner or something?”
She throws her hands up, exasperated. “I don’t fucking know, Brady. I don’t. But it seems safer to assume that’s what he’s doing than not.”
Easton’s nose wrinkles adorably. “What would that change, though?”
This one, I know. “It would mean that we shouldn’t risk calling the police until it’s too late for him to hear about it.”
Blakely snaps. “Yep. That’s it. Which also means we’re going to have to be exceedingly careful. Everything is going to shit and maybe we’ll go to jail.”
“Well, I’m not going down without taking that motherfucker with me, so let’s finalize this asinine plan.”
There are no objections. We may be dumbasses but we’re in this together. There isn’t a cost we’re not willing to pay to save Easton and Asher’s life.
CHAPTER 29
CHASE
It’s like the atmosphere shifts when Aaron is close. Brady makes eye contact with me from across the room, and I can just tell he feels it too. This motherfucker would wait until he thinks there’s no one here but a girl and Easton before he makes a move. Always gotta be someone smaller than him.
Easton swore up and down he could handle this. He better be able to because Brady and I are going to fucking jail if he can’t. This doesn’t work if one of us breaks the ruse too early. Why we don’t have a cop doing this, I have no idea. Can’t even remember now that the moment is here. What the fuck are we going to do if his ankle gives out again? He swore up and down it was fine but who knows? One kick in the wrong place and he might go down.
Blakely is a better actor than me. “Hi. Welcome. You’re a little early for the show, but is there something I can help you with?”
His voice grates my nerves. I grit my teeth to keep still and quiet. “These are remarkable. Is the artist available? I’d like to discuss a business offer with them.”
The gender-neutral thing was smart, like he doesn’t know who he’s asking for. I hate him. “Aren’t they lovely? Let me check if he’s available. Feel free to look around in the meantime.”
Her heels click in a steady rhythm as she walks away, and it’s nothing less than a miracle that we’ve all remained calm this long. But Easton made his demands clear. This is important to him and not the place to have it all go down. And he really does think that he can figure out where Asher is being held. So here we go.
Trust the process, I guess.
I’m gonna need a fucking drink if I make it through this.
