Jam pulled his phone out and turned away to make the call.
“You take care of the stash?” I asked Cash.
“Yeah. Skola’s got it. He’s scheduled to meet with Santana tomorrow,” Cash replied.
“That’s not who’s running this new team down here,” I told him. “You stay here with Skola and find out who’s really calling the shots. Let them know this is Ryder territory now. They don’t like that shit, show them the door.”
Cash nodded. “Got it, boss.”
KC had moved in to say something to Rafe, and I was about to check the security cameras again, just to be sure nobody entered this property except for Eve’s gray vans, when my phone buzzed. Pulling it from my back pocket, I frowned at the name on my screen.
“Speak,” I yelled into the phone.
“She’s gone,” Trill, one of the security guards on my payroll, answered.
I frowned, my fingers tightening on the phone. “Say that shit again.”
He cleared his throat. “She’s gone. She came home from work and parked her truck in the garage like usual. There wasn’tanything on her schedule, so we figured she was in for the night, and we camped out across the street like always. About twenty minutes ago, the house alarm started going off. We ran up immediately, chased off a bunch of deer that must’ve set off the motion sensors. But when no lights went on inside to signal her getting up, and she didn’t come to the door, while the alarm kept blaring, we figured something was wrong. So, we broke down the door and, she’s gone, boss.”
My breath seized, that shit froze up right in the center of my chest, refusing to move to my throat. For a few seconds, I felt dizzy as hell. Then, rage took over and my free hand clenched into a fist. “Fuck!”
CHAPTER 2
DAKOTA DONOVAN
Daufuskie Island, South Carolina
“I need a drink. All this baby talk is making me itch.”
I laughed at my cousin, Hannah, and watched as she got up and walked over to the cart filled with bottles, glasses, and buckets of ice. It was a makeshift bar, Tedra, the manager, had one of the staff set up for us. We’d come out here after the dinner that looked like it had been prepared for a queen and her court, which … shit, since I owned the gorgeous, luxury bed and breakfast we were staying in, I guess that was me.
“I can’t wait ‘til Pippin knocks her smart ass up,” Regan, one of my other cousins said from where she sat on a cushioned wicker couch.
We, the eight of us, all Donovans by blood, had convened here on the large back porch of the Southern Sunset B&B. It was my turn to host our yearly cousins’ get-together and the break from life I sorely needed.
Morganna laughed. “That’s definitely gonna be a big announcement. As goofy as Pippin is, he might have the reveal on the jumbotron during one of his games, while his ass dances up and down the field like he does when he gets a touchdown.”
The others joined in on the laughter and I couldn’t help grinning myself.
Hannah, Maria and Morganna, the triplets, were Aunt Loretta and Uncle Billy’s pride and joy. Maria had recently taken the CEO position at my father’s advertising agency, Hannah was a pediatrician, and Morganna owned a logistics company. Kendra was one of Aunt Alice and Uncle Myles’ daughters. CeeCee, her younger sister, was in Egypt on some type of research project, and after our video call this morning, was having serious FOMO. They were my closest female cousins, geographically and thus relational. While Regan and Bailey were also on the East Coast, Bailey lived and worked in Connecticut at our other cousin Trent’s PI firm, and Regan lived in Miami where she worked within the Donovan Media Corporation. Suri, the youngest of our tribe, and the only one born and raised in London, was the newest mother of the bunch.
“Listen,” Suri said, her British accent clear, “Pregnancy is a lot to manage.”
Hannah held up a finger as she took a healthy gulp of the brown liquor she’d just poured. “See, that’s exactly what I’m not doing.”
More laughter erupted.
“But,” Suri interjected, “I wouldn’t trade a minute of that turmoil because I have the most perfectly beautiful son I could’ve ever wished for.”
“That last part is the honest truth,” I said. As I’d never been pregnant, I couldn’t really speak on the first half of her statement. Jaxon Gabriel Rawlings was beyond adorable. At eighteen months old, he was on his way to being a littleheartthrob with his rich chocolate complexion and dimpled cheeks.
Regan squealed. “Yes! Yes he is! Let me see another picture.” She held out a hand for Suri, who sat beside her, to pass her the phone. “It isn’t fair that Dakota and Shawna have seen him so many times and all I’ve gotten is pictures.”
Suri had been keeping her phone either in her hand or within arm’s reach as she waited for daily picture texts and calls from her husband, Pierce, with news about their little boy. I couldn’t believe she’d finally left them to come to the States this time. Last year’s get-together had me, Kendra, and Morganna heading to London to see her and the baby, while the others remained stateside either because of job or family obligations. Shawna, my sister-in-law, had seen him even more times than me, since my brother Cade was Pierce’s best friend and thus, Jax’s godfather. Cade and Shawna had gone to London for Jax’s birth. They’d made the trip several times after that, and again for his first birthday when they’d taken my niece/mini-me, Malissa, with them.
After eagerly opening her phone and scooting closer to Regan, Suri swiped over pictures and Regan cooed.
“Damn, you act like you don’t have one at home,” Hannah quipped, coming back to cross her legs beneath her on the couch she was sharing with Kendra.
