“You are not really that dumb, Cord!”
He appreciated the way his team challenged him. Even if they resorted to name-calling. “There’s logic behind it. Trust me. I wouldn’t put her or this organization in jeopardy.”
She shoved back her long blond strands, hemp bracelets hugging her wrists. “When was the last time you talked to him?”
“An hour ago.”
“Before that?”
Man, she had laser accuracy, didn’t she? “A few years.”
“Exactly,” she said, her lips tight and anger brightening her features. “He’s not the same guy since ‘Lizzy’ happened. This won’t be good—for either of them.” As an aftercare specialist, she knew people and counseling. Knew how to get right to the heart of a situation, and he hated arguing with her, but logistics and tactics were his specialty.
She flared her nostrils. “She’s been through too much to be thrown to the Panther of the Potomac when he’s ticked and territorial.”
Cord snorted. “That’s a stupid moniker.”
“But accurate. Stone broods, plans, stalks. That’s not what she needs right now. She needs safety, security, and the belief that she’s going to be okay. We have to help her—”
“I have nowhere else that they can’t track,” Cord argued, sitting forward, done with the grilling. “Most important thing right now is to get her out of this state and somewhere they can’t locate. The lodge isn’t in his name, and he’s the last person they’d expect to hide her.”
She frowned, crossing her arms on the table. “How do you know the lodge isn’t in his name?”
Smirking, Cord snagged back his fries. “I know a guy,” he said in his best Italian mobster accent.
“Yeah, and I know that guy. He’s my brother!”
“Willow, chill. I got this. Trust me.”
“Stone’s your brother?”
Willow whirled around, coming up out of her seat with a slow smile. “Hey …”
Brighton stood in sweatpants and a Virginia Tech t-shirt from a travel stop. Her cheek was swollen and sporting the start of a wicked bruise. White bandage cuffed her forearm. Even with her hair in a wet knot atop her head, she was a stunner. It didn’t surprise him that she’d managed to distract Stone Metcalfe.
“He is,” Willow said softly.
Brighton’s large brown eyes dipped low. “You must hate me.”
Ever Willow, she pulled the girl into a hug. “Actually, I think you’re amazing.” She squeezed then released her. “You’ve been through a lot and you’re still fighting. Not giving up.” She hugged her again, then stepped back. “And I hate to do this, but Mari and I need to head out. Her parents are expecting us.”
Brighton started. “Oh … I … She’s leaving?”
“I’m afraid so, and the sooner the better.”
She swallowed, looking at the teen who rushed into her arms.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” Mari said around tears. “You saved me. I wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for you.”
Though Brighton said nothing, the struggle was all over her expression and stiff posture. “Go home, live your best life,” she whispered to the girl. “Promise me. Stay with them. Love life.”
“I will,” Mari cried. “I promise.”
After a few more tearful good-byes between the ladies, Cord stepped out of the motorcoach, verified the coast was clear, then waved Brighton out.
She exited and let him hurry her to the dark blue F-250. Once she climbed in, he handed her a burger meal and took the front passenger seat.
Behind the wheel, Lowell grinned back at her. “My truck ain’t as spotless as Cord’s, but it’ll get us where we’re going.”
