“You sure you want to do that?” There’s a shake in his hand as he places the cell back in his pocket. “They’ll take you out if you even move to pull the trigger, and then what? You lose, and I get her anyway.”
“What do you want?”
“What I’ve always wanted,” He shrugs, “Malakai’s business.”
I chuckle humorlessly, “How do you suppose you get that?”
“You’re going to give it to me, Dean.” He says it so simply, like I could just hand over the hundreds of years of business the Farrow generations have worked on.
“Right, of course,” I roll my eyes, “Here, have the keys to the estate. I’m sure Malakai will invite you right inside.”
He laughs as I cut my eyes to his men, their guns trained on my head. I could shoot him dead in an instant, but I’ve no doubt they’ll fire immediately. One against five aren’t great odds.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Richard says now from behind the line of men. Coward. “You’re going to put everything I want on a hard drive — all of it, all the clients, the names of your mercenaries, the jobs you have taken and are coming up. You’re going to get it for me and deliver it in three days.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I may not have Sloane or your daughter, but I can get them. I have a man outside your house right now, waiting for my word.”
“Skin trade not lucrative enough for you?” I growl out.
“Messy work,” He shrugs, “What’ll it be, Dean?”
“I’ll get you what you want,” I lie. I’ve always known Richard lacks the brain cells to truly pull off these big plans of his. If he were smart, he’d know I don’t need three days to get what he needs, I just need an hour, but what he has just given me is time. I was slacking before; I won’t make the same mistake twice.
“I knew you were smart,” He nods. “In fact, how’d you like a job?”
“I’m good.” I tuck my gun into the back of my pants.
“You sure?” Even though I am no longer armed, his guys keep their guns trained on my head. “You’re going to be out of work real soon.”
I give him a grin, “No such thing as no work.”
His eyes narrow, and his throat works on a swallow. Such a fucking coward.
“Now,” I sigh dramatically, “If I turn my back, are you going to shoot me? Seems your way, after all.”
“You’re free to leave,” He grinds out.
“Gentlemen,” I nod to his men and turn, though I’m far from relaxed. I feel the weight of their guns trained on my back, their eyes watching. My hands twitch, there’s an itch under my skin to get back to Sloane and Lily, to see them with my own eyes. Then there’s the matter of Richard’s guy watching my house. I’ll find the prick and end him, regardless of whatever deal Richard thinks he and I have. There’s a clock ticking down, a bomb ready to go off.
I slide back into the Porsche, the engine still running, and hit dial on Sloane’s number the minute I’m inside and peeling away from the marina.
“Dean?” She gasps into the phone. “Fuck, you’ve been gone for hours! Are you okay!?” She answers, her voice frantic and shaking. My racing heart slows a beat in my chest, the tension in my shoulders loosening at the sound of her voice.
“Take Lily and go to the basement,” I order her, “The code is seven, seven, three, four. It will lock automatically. Go to the bottom and wait for me there. There is a gun in the top drawer; get it out and have it ready.”
“Dean?”
“Just go, Butterfly, please. I’ll explain when I get there.”
“O-okay,” She stammers. I listen as she moves through the house. “Come here, sweet girl,” She speaks away from the phone to my daughter, likely scooping her up to cradle her the way she does, like her whole life depends on it. I hadn’t given it much thought, it was so natural, but Sloane with Lily is exactly what I wanted, what we needed. She is the glue holding this whole fractured picture together.
Fuck.
I’m in love with her.
The code box beeps as she inputs the code I gave her, and then the door slams hard, and she lets out a startled breath.
