“Yes, Mr. Jones,” he trills back, his eyes following Flynn curiously as we reach the elevators.
Once we step inside, I spin around, counting slowly to ten, trying to figure out what our next move is.
He won’t hurt her. Not yet. Not if there’s something he wants.
As the doors slide closed, I see my own face reflected back at me in the shiny surface. Flynn looks small at my side, worried and afraid. But I don’t recognize my face, it’s an expression I haven’t worn for a long, long time.
If Monroe hurts her, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.
“How much does he want?” I ask.
Flynn blinks, wincing. “Over two hundred thousand, it’s not?—”
“How much cash do you have at your club?”
There’s a short, nerve-jangling pause before he replies. “Around fifty grand. No more.”
“Fine,” I pull out my phone, firing off a message to my private banker. “We stop there on the way.”
“I have a gun,” Flynn whispers, his eyes shifting around the confined space to the camera in the corner.
“How much have they already paid him?” I say, ignoring him, my voice hollow.
“Ten percent, or around that figure. The fucker just told them it would barely cover the interest.”
I snort. “Yeah, that sounds like Nick.”
“You do know him.” It isn’t a question, and I don’t reply immediately.
“He’s an inherently lazy man. I haven’t met your brother, but I’m assuming this isn’t Scott’s first foray into gambling?”
“Not even close.”
“Nick likes his targets gullible. He was probably watching him, finding out what his weaknesses are. He’ll have seen him coming a mile away.”
“I’m prepared to give him what he wants,” Flynn says. “He’s holding my family hostage; I don’t have a lot of choice.”
“That’s exactly where he wants you.”
“I didn’t come to you because I want your money,” Flynn says, puffing out his chest. “I just need to find him.”
My phone pings with a message from my banker, a very unpleasant individual who has been managing my investments for years. But he’s reliable, and he can get anything done quickly for the right price.
“We need to make a stop on the way, and then we’ll head to your club to clear out your safe.”
“Where are we going?” he asks me, eyes wide.
To save the woman I love.
“You’ll see.”
Chapter 41
Jax
I’m not sure what time it is when the door opens. I’ve been lying on a concrete floor for hours, and it’s fucking freezing.
The scuttling behind the large metal railings in one corner reminds me of how close to a rat you always are when you live in New York City. My hands are tied behind my back, a piece of black, thick tape over my mouth that’s pulling on my skin.
