Brantley glared, obviously refraining from ripping Baz a new one. He appreciated it.
Regardless of whether the cops found something that might implicate JJ or not, Baz wasn’t willing to take that chance.
“She doesn’t have an alibi,” Baz continued. “She was probably the last person Dante called. Plus this is her house, her knife. She was definitely the last person toseeDante besides whoever’s behind this.”
Brantley was staring at him, that unflappable control firmly in place, looking as though he had the ability to fix everything simply by willing it to be so. But he couldn’t. No one was that powerful.
Even if they all wished he was.
“Call Charlie,” Brantley breathed out slowly. “Tell her to come over here.” He jerked his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Trey. We need to process the scene, then we’ll decide how to proceed.”
Christ Almighty. He just didn’t get it, did he? The more people they brought in, the worse they were going to make it.
“Brant—”
“Call her,” Brantley barked, not bothering to look back.
Fuck.
Baz waited until Brantley walked out the front door before turning to JJ. She was staring up at him, her eyes glassy, as though she wasn’t quite sure what was going on.
“Let me get you outta here,” Baz whispered, putting his arm around her shoulder.
She leaned in, as though it was natural, and the only thing he could think about was keeping her safe, ensuring no one else hurt her. He felt her shudder, knew the shock was setting in since the adrenaline was waning.
Because he only had one option, Baz took her hand and led her out the front door. Reese and Brantley were nowhere in sight, which he took to mean they were walking the perimeter of the house, giving him the perfect opportunity.
Later he would wonder if Brantley had done that on purpose.
“Should we tell them we’re leavin’?” JJ asked, her words soft with a slight tremble.
“No.”
To his surprise, she didn’t argue and he didn’t elaborate.
Once in the truck, Baz buckled JJ’s seat belt for her, started the engine, and double-timed it out of the neighborhood. He hadn’t made it a mile when his cell phone began ringing, Brantley’s number on the screen.
He ignored it. Once he got her somewhere safe, somewhere the police wouldn’t find her until they solved this, Baz would call him and explain.
“Where are we going?” JJ asked a short time later, once they were on the interstate heading south.
“My father’s,” he said simply.
“Baz, that’s—”
“He’s not home,” he told her quickly, not wanting her to panic. “They’re out of the country. Won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”
Either she believed him and felt no need to argue or JJ was in shock, because she said nothing.
Every so often, he would look over, noticing that JJ’s eyes were closed, her head resting on the window. It made him nervous to think she might be injured more than she would admit.
Knowing it would likely infuriate JJ, Baz decided to make a call. If she wouldn’t let him take her to a clinic to get checked out, he would have someone come to her.
It was times like this when he appreciated his father’s wealth. Especially since it meant there was a doctor who made house calls.
Chapter Fourteen
“I need a fucking doctor,” Dante groaned, using the dollar bill he’d turned into a makeshift straw to sniff the white powder up his nose.
