When Atticus held out his hand, Brantley tossed the wallet back to him.
“Where’s my mother?” Reese demanded.
Atticus stumbled toward the sofa and flopped down on it. Brantley followed Reese inside, then began sweeping it for others.
“You mind puttin’ the gun down? I said I’m unarmed.”
“As soon as you tell me where my mother is.”
Brantley watched as Reese wielded that weapon like a man determined. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his body as he stood there, finger on the trigger.
“Do you work for Toby?” Brantley asked when it was clear they weren’t getting anywhere. He already suspected he knew the answer but figured he’d give the guy a chance to be honest.
Atticus’s tone was cool, amused when he said, “Toby? No.” He looked up, green eyes glittering with amusement. “Tony? Yes.”
He sounded far too cheerful to currently be a human target. Almost as though he was used to having guns pointed at his head.
Atticus sighed. “I work for Tony Stark.” He looked between them as though expecting a comment.
Brantley didn’t know who that was.
“And no, not Iron Man,” Atticus tacked on with a smile.
Brantley could feel Reese’s tension rising.
“Geez. Tough crowd.” Another sigh from the dark-haired stranger before he clarified. “Tony Stark. A bail bondsman. I’m here to take Toby in.” He blew out a breath and lowered the frozen bag from his head.
“You’re a bounty hunter,” Reese stated.
“Day job,” he said smoothly. “By night, I’m Batman.”
Brantley rolled his eyes. And sure, he might’ve smiled but only on the inside.
“Where’s my mother?” Reese repeated, his words spoken slowly, each syllable wrapped in a threat of bodily harm if the guy didn’t get to explaining.
“I take it she’s the home run hitter?” Atticus’s gaze bounced between Reese and Brantley. “She nailed me good when I came in. Woman would give Hank Aaron a run for his money.”
Brantley lowered his gun but kept it at the ready, moving toward the bedroom. He did a quick look through the space, then the bathroom, clearing them before returning to the living room. As he joined Reese, footsteps sounded on the front porch, and a second later, RT and Z were coming in through the front door.
“You brought friends,” Atticus said, dropping his head back. “How nice.”
“It’s clear,” Brantley relayed, then nodded toward the man on the couch. “This is Atticus James. Bounty hunter.”
Atticus tipped his chin up, meeting their hard stares. “Nice to meetcha. Wouldn’t happen to have some aspirin on you, huh?”
Brantley tapped Reese’s shoulder, a silent request for him to lower the gun. There was no danger. At least not for the moment.
Atticus repeated what had happened when Z demanded to know, but he didn’t look the least bit concerned that four armed men were standing over him. In fact, Brantley would go so far as to say the guy looked entertained by the turn of events.
“She hit you with a baseball bat?” Z inquired.
“She did.”
Which told Brantley that Cindy wasn’t being held against her will. “Where’d they go?”
Atticus pushed to his feet, holding on to the arm of the couch for balance. “Hightailed it while I was unconscious would be my guess,” he said with a grimace.
Z began launching his own questions, most of them the same as what Brantley and Reese had already asked.
