“I think Drew should be the one to have this conversation with you.”
“As if you two morons don’t share a brain,” Gamble muttered. “Is this because of what happened yesterday?” He went on.
“Yesterday?”
“Yet another thing no one called me about and I had to read in the papers.”
I said nothing.
His sigh was exaggerated. “Look at the rest of your messages.”
Daughter of NRR champion traumatized!
Attempted kidnapping foiled by sixteen-year-old boy—“He tackled her!”
Drew and Trent Mask’s daughter in danger!
Drew forced from racing to protect his only daughter!
I let out a long line of expletives. “How the fuck did the press get ahold of this already?” I demanded.
“Witnesses from the ice cream shop,” Gamble replied.
“They’re printing photos, for chrissakes!” I roared, squeezing my phone so hard I was surprised the screen didn’t crack. “She’s a child!” I demanded. “A minor! So is Travis.”
“I already have my lawyers on it.” Gamble informed me.
“People have no fucking morals,” I snapped, stomping over to the coffeemaker to brew a pot. “We haven’t even spoken to the police.”
His voice was sharp. “You didn’t call them?”
“Of course we did. But we’re meeting later this morning. The girls were too upset last night. So was Travis.”
“Girls?”
“London was with them.”
This time, Gamble cursed. “Why didn’t you call?”
“It was late. Drew called Lorhaven for the PI’s number. I called the cops, and Romeo and Braeden upped security.”
“Good.” He was gruff. “Still should have called me.”
“I was going to call this morning.”
“How are they?”
“Upset. The woman tried to drag Andi to her car. Travis got physical, stopping them.”
“This about those bullshit letters?” he asked.
The entire family knew. Gamble, Lorhaven, Joey, Arrow, and Hopper, along with everyone up at the main house. Romeo’s and B’s parents knew too.
“Maybe we should have taken them more seriously,” I whispered, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was down here listening.
I didn’t want anyone to think I doubted our decisions. Drew had enough going on in his head. I wasn’t putting that on him. Besides, rationally, I knew we did the right thing. It was just hard because, well, we’d been wrong.
Gamble made a sound. “If we took every letter, call, or email we got seriously, we’d all be in early graves by now. I didn’t make it this long in life by kowtowing to criminally insane demands. Hell, I’d be nothing but worm food by now after the first death threat I got in the nineties.”
