I hand him my cellphone. “Call yours. Tell him it’s an emergency.”
He sighs and when his sleepover stirs, he motions me out of the room. “What did your girlfriend do now?”
“What if someone asked you to bring a plane down to Mexico,no questions asked, would you go?” As the words leave my mouth, I realize how foolish they sound, and shudder.
Slapping a palm to his forehead, the sleep-deprived thief leans in, and shouts in my face. “Has she lost her ever-bloomin’ mind?”
At his criticism, I’m obligated to stand up for her. “Not so long ago, a fellow Marine rescued her from a tough situation. Now, the wanker uses this fact to take advantage of her.”
“She could tell him to bugger off, son.” His comment sets off the pin-less grenade in my chest and my self-control goes to shit.
“That would be too bloody reasonable to expect. In fact, wouldn’t that be like me, trying to tell you no?” Honestly, my dad needs to do what’s right for my partner.
I’m in no mood to take his shite. “Call your pilot and tell him to meet me at the airport. Make sure you agree to whatever exorbitant price he wants. Pack up my stuff and pay my bill. I’m out of here.”
Dammit. I knew I shouldn’t’ve come to London. I swear Kade keeps tabs on me. He waits until I leave to cajole her back into the life. Because his last stunt almost got us killed, I’m dumbfounded he had the audacity to contact my Lanita again.
Soon, I’m tapping Captain Frank on the shoulder. “Stand by. Assuming all goes well, we’ll be taking off in two.” I duck out of the pilot’s cabin, store my belongings, and buckle up.
After takeoff, I phone Landy repeatedly, but she doesn’t pick up. Then, while I’m trying to get in touch, a text arrives from Mrs. Feinstein’s nephew which says Moishe ran off. At that news, I really start to worry.
No way would our feline leave the apartment voluntarily. He’s way too attached to his Darth Vader key chain collection, plus his food bowl.
Dad’s employee informs me of the flight time, and I vow by the time we touchdown, I will be on top of the situation. First, I retrieve the conversation from the cloud, between her, and the motorcycle ex-Marine.
While some might object to this invasion of her privacy, I suggest they not judge me until they are tasked with keeping someone like her, from certain death. I almost wish I didn’t listen because by the time he finishes guilt-tripping her, I’m ready to ship him to Mexico… in a wooden box.
Despite all I heard, I don’t believe she would fly a plane south of the border unless coerced which brings me to my next plan, reviewing our apartment’s security footage. In the video, my fiancé comes home, is gifted a lawn chair, and goes outside. Not long after, she returns, grabs her helmet, her gun, and leaves on her bike.
About an hour later, Mrs. Feinstein checks in on Moishe, and he chows down. A few minutes later, a masked man snatches him by the scruff of his neck and despite being a feisty scrapper, he’s stuffed in a pet-carrier. I’m guessing the thug could’ve murdered my little mate, but I’m sure they’re using him to force Lanita to do their bidding.
These bloody fucking cunts are worse than scum on a cesspool. That precious little kidnapped kitty is family, and I will bring him home. To make this happen, my best bet is to call my chum, Suds.
His wife, Sam, mutters sleepily behind the scenes, but the former SEAL sounds like he’s been awake for hours. “Give me a second.”
His bed creaks, sheets rustle, and as his door latch clicks, chirping crickets give way to the beeping of a garbage truck.
“Okay, what’s up?” Because he moved outside, I must wait for the metal banging on cement to stop before I can answer.
“I’m over the Atlantic and need help. My bloomin’ magnet’s at it again. Her ex-biker-boyfriend coerced her to fly to Mexico. His club took Moishe and are no doubt using him for leverage. His collar contains a tracker and it’s still working. They either didn’t find it or don’t want their fingers clawed off.”
“Well, shit. That’s a hell of a thing. And why didn’t she call you?”
“She did, but I was on a job with my dad.”
He curses under his breath. “I honestly can’t decide who’s worse. You or her, you limey fuck.”
“Yeah, well, we can debate over beers another time. I won’t be home until morning. I’m guessing by then, my fiancé will be over the Midwest somewhere. Can you save my little buddy cat? I sent you the coordinates.”
“On it.” At his confident tone, I let out a deep breath. “God willing, Lanita will do her thing, come home, and that will be the end of it.”
Suds immediately picks up on the implications. “Mmm. I’ll warn Slate. We’ll assemble a team and have a jet ready in case we need it. We got your six, pal. Do you want me to drive upstate and beat the shit out of this asshole biker?”
Picturing Kade bruised and bloodied, I try not to grin. “Maybe later. Tell Slate to bill me whatever the cost.”
“Copy that. I’ll call as soon as I have news.”
“Thanks. I owe you, bro’. The next time Sam goes off the rails, I swear I will be there.”
