I was more than a little confused when Sylas returned to the table and dragged my stepmother from her chair and into the bathroom, closing the door when he returned.
“That’s better,” he sighed, dropping onto the bed next to me and pulling me into his arms. “No point in tipping our hand.”
“Our hand?” I parroted, my lips brushing the soft skin on Sylas’s chest.
“Uh huh.” Sylas tugged me higher onto his body until he could reach my lips with his. Then, he took full advantage of the new position to claim my mouth in a bruising kiss that stretched on until oxygen became an issue, leaving us both panting when he finally pulled back. “That’s better,” he murmured. “I was so fucking scared for you.”
I snuggled closer to his chest. “As soon as I heard you in my mind, I knew that you’d find me.” I gave a small laugh. “Which is a weird thing to say since I don’t even understand how that works, to be honest.”
“I’ll explain it sometime,” Sylas promised. “Let’s get through this first, okay?”
“Definitely,” I agreed. “What did you mean about tipping our hand? I mean, I know Bun’s safety is the most important thing, but you’re not really giving them part of my trust fund, are you?”
Sylas winked at me. “I absolutely am. As trustee, I am going to write them each a check for thirty percent of the balance in the account as of right now. The remaining thirty percent is mine.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “And I don’t get any of it?”
Sylas chuckled and nuzzled into my neck. “You don’t seem very worried.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “After everything you’ve done for me since we met and never accepted a penny for, I’m not.”
“That’s good to know,” Sylas said softly. “Instead of giving you partial access to your trust fund, which would have required you continuing to have to get permission to spend your own money until you are twenty-five, I asked Drey to open an investment account in your name. All but ninety dollars was set to be transferred from your trust account into the investment account at noon.”
I cocked my head. “Why ninety dollars?”
Sylas shrugged. “That was the minimum amount I could leave in the account without having to get a judge to sign off on closing it.”
I shook my head in amazement. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“Oh, Tiger,” Sylas sighed, brushing another kiss over my cheek. “I would do so much more than that for you, baby. Once the money is transferred to the investment account, the interest is immediately available to you while the principle remains invested to ensure that you have a steady income. If you decide to cash out, I’d strongly suggest that you meet with a financial advisor first.”
I laughed. “Isn’t that what you do?”
Sylas gave me a sheepish smile. “It is but I am definitely not a disinterested party, so maybe ask Drey to suggest one. I honestly believe that he has your best interests at heart.”
“What happens now?”
“Now, we wait for backup to arrive. Then, when your asshole of a sperm donor returns with the signed parental rights waiver, we go home.”
I shook my head. “You set all of that up in ten minutes on your cell phone?”
Sylas laughed. “Not exactly. Drey and I worked out the plan for the investment account the other day. Even the transfer was already set up. All I had to do when I got here was have him put together the parental rights form and email it.” He huffed and held me tighter. “As soon as I knew you’d been grabbed, I was pretty damn sure his plan was to ransom you back to me.”
A shiver ran through my body. “I don’t think they actually meant for me to be returned,” I admitted softly. “Earlier Sean said something about how there weren’t going to be any witnesses.”
Sylas growled low in his throat. “They ever pull a stunt like this again and there won’t be.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sylas
When Chuck showed up almost an hour later, he wasn’t alone.
I watched through the dusty glass of the front window as Chuck pulled his SUV around to the back of the abandoned motel, a line of four Harley Davidson motorcycles trailing like ducklings after their mom, a comparison that made me chuckle even as I guessed the riders might not be amused.
When he walked up to knock on the door, though, he came alone.
“It’s open,” I called out, not moving from my spot by the window.
