“He owed Cash, the Rebels’ Prez, a favor. This is him repaying that. You’ll stay here until you can get back on your feet. In time, when all this dies down, he’ll get you new identities and you can start again some place new.”
She nods, her eyes sad. Eyes that have seen way too much. “So I have to just sit here with my son and obey his orders?”
“I don’t think it’s quite like that,” I say. “But for now, you’ll have to. This whole case has been blown apart, and as soon as it dies down, they’ll stop looking for you.”
“Not if the Mancinis need people to testify against them.”
“I’ve thought about that, too,” I go on. “And let’s just say there won’t be any Mancinis left to testify against, not this time.”
“I thought they were being arrested?” She’s terrified. I can see it in her eyes and the way she begins to shake. “I’ve been running for so long, Payden, I can’t live life like this forever.”
I clear my throat. “I’m a lawyer,” I tell her. “And I’m a damn good one. I don’t take bribes or underhanded deals, but sometimes I have to look the other way for the greater good. When I say that Donnie Mancini won’t live a day in prison, you can rely on it.”
She smiles a watery smile as I pass her a tissue, and she takes it gratefully. “You’re very kind,” she tells me. “Logan is lucky to have you.”
“I don’t know about that, but despite all this mayhem surrounding us, there is light, not just darkness. I’ve learned to look for the light.”
She nods like she understands.
A shadow falls over the two of us as I glance up. Bane looks down at us, his eyes on Becca.
“I’m assumin’ the digs upstairs were adequate?”
I glance at Becca, rigid in her chair. She tucks her hair behind her ears. “Yes, Mr. Adler. The room is very n-nice.”
He studies her for a second, then says, “Nice?”
I roll my lips. Oops.
Before she has a chance to answer, he adds, “And it’s Bane. Mr. Adler is my father, and I’m not that fuckin’ old.”
Becca’s cheeks redden. “It’s generous of you, that’s all I meant,” she stammers. “After everything.”
“But if we’re being honest, those stairs are no good for a child,” I put in, knowing Becca was concerned about it when they first arrived. She clearly doesn’t want to complain or seem ungrateful. “He’s five, yes, but those stairs are pretty narrow for a little one.”
Bane’s eyebrow slowly rises but I stand my ground. I’m not speaking out of turn. It is dangerous for a little kid.
“Oh, it’s fine, Connor is a good boy,” Becca goes on, flustered. “Really. We’re grateful to be here.”
“Things must be pretty fuckin’ shit if you’re grateful a motorcycle club you don’t know kidnapped you in the middle of the night without warning and took you to a secluded town that you probably don’t even know the name of.”
Becca opens her mouth, then closes it again. She sits up straighter, then surprises me by saying, “After the last couple of years not knowing if I was going to live another day while trying to keep my son safe, and mourning the death of my husband, I can assure you, Bane, that I’m grateful to anyone who wants to keep us safe. Excuse my belligerence and scepticism but the last time the authorities said we were safe, we almost died because of crooked cops.”
My eyes are like a tennis match, flicking between the two of them. Holy heck. Becca does have a voice. It may be quashed a little from what she’s been through, but she’s in there somewhere.
Bane’s lips twitch. I don’t know for sure, but it’s almost like he’s fighting a smile. Asshat.
“I’ll have you moved to a cabin.” He gives her a chin lift. “For the child’s sake.”
“You really don’t have to?—”
He holds up a hand to stop her speaking. “I’ll have Logan and Payden’s cabin cleaned when they leave. That’ll do for now.”
I blink in surprise.
Becca opens her mouth, probably to protest again, but Bane says nothing more. He takes off, and my eyes widen as he leaves.
Becca slumps back and lets out a long breath. “He’s intense.”
