My legacy was a five-foot eight-inch tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel with a heart of fucking gold.
“Try me, old man,” I drawled. “I’ll go buy the matches right now.”
He sighed. “The girl is just a girl. You can have anyone you want. But this one is the key to St. Louis.”
Like hell she was.
I’d burn the fucking city down in search of her. No one would be able to stop me from getting to her, not even her own family. Truces be damned. Flicking the cigarette onto the ground, I stepped on the bud.
My patience was non-existent.
I scanned the grounds of the tiny airport. I know for a fact this was the same one that the FBI used. When I scheduled the flight, a part of me hoped they would be here when Karina landed. She would have been in safe hands…hands that wanted to see me arrested and rotting in a federal prison.
But safe for her.
Tires screeching in the distance had my head snapping to the right. A black Tahoe flew across the parking lot heading straight for me. Deacon emerged by my side within the next second.
“Boss. It’s the Feds. We gotta move.”
He was looking at me, but my eyes were on the vehicle. I held a finger up to him and decided that my family therapy session had to come to an end. “Father, as much as I have enjoyed this conversation, it must end. Like your life in the next twelve hours.”
“Son—”
“One. Fucking. Hair.If one hair on her head is out of place, the empire will fall,” I growled. It was the only thing he had left to lose. Kidnapping Karina was an act of desperation, and her being the key to St. Louis, well, that could only mean one thing.
Sullivan Jones.
He was using the man’s niece as leverage to take control of St. Louis. That explosion fucked him up at the very least. He sounded weak—weaker than before, more disoriented. I pocketed the phone and pushed off the wall as the Tahoe came to a stop. Deacon flanked me, his gun aimed at the mystery driver. My jet engines roared on the other side of the building.
“Xander secure?” I asked, pulling out my gun. Damn, I wanted another cigarette.
“Yes, boss.”
“And why aren’t you with them?” I met his eyes briefly, and they were filled with loyalty.
“Didn’t want to leave you alone, sir.”
Though I admired the loyalty… “I don’t do the lovey dovey shit.”
He didn’t have time to respond before the driver’s side door opened. I left my gun resting at my side, knowing I was faster than the average trained agent. Petite hands flew up as the owner of them stepped out of the vehicle and into view.
“Don’t shoot!”
Dark hair, ponytail, glasses too big for her face, Black Sabbath t-shirt, gray leggings.
Someone tell me why I was looking at the world’s best hacker, Casey Gomez?
“Who the fuck is this?” my man asked quietly beside me.
Her light-colored eyes bounced back and forth between the both of us. “Please don’t shoot me. I’ll get fired for sure if you do,” she said, keeping her hands in the air.
I looked behind her, waiting for an ambush.
“It’s just me. I swear on my abuela’s secret churro recipe,” she said, taking a step forward.
“Ms. Gomez, I am a very busy man. I don’t have time for this bullshit,” I deadpanned.
She nodded. “I know. I know, but this is about—wait. How do you know my name?”
