“Pause,” Eli said when they stepped in front of the door. They were directly facing a camera too small for them to detect with the naked eye.
I moved aside and let Eli work his magic. Our youngest brother was the most tech savvy. He had screen captures of the men’s faces and was running facial recognition faster than I could nail an unmoving target.
I hit Play again.
The men didn’t pause for more than a minute at the door. They didn’t knock either. Fancy Man pulled out a metal rod, leveraged it against the glass door’s handle, and yanked. The same rod gouged into the wood of the front door to pry it away from the jamb.
The scene went blank as they moved inside.
“The nanny is dead, from a fall against the dresser in the back bedroom. Probably trying to get Brooke out a back window.”
“And Leah hasn’t told you what it is the men were looking for?” Levi asked.
“Not yet.” She would, though.
The computer beeped, a small box popping up on screen. Eli elbowed me out of the way.
“The guy with the fancy pants has an arrest record in DC.” He typed furiously, the screen changing too fast for me to track as multiple programs ran. “Seems there are rumors he has ties to the Fiori family up there.”
“The mob?” Levi asked.
“Yep.”
I swore under my breath. What the fuck could the mob want with a woman like Leah?
You don’t really know what kind of woman she is, do you?
Yes, I had followed her, searched for public records, that kind of thing, but I hadn’t gone too deep. Deep meant finding out about her life with another man. I might be a glutton for punishment, but I wasn’t sure I could handle picturing her happy with someone, lying beneath someone, delivering her child while another man held her hand.
Levi’s gaze burned into me. I caught myself before I could squirm in my seat like an untried teen.
“What the hell is she into?” he asked.
I forced myself to meet his eyes. I’d brought Leah into our lives—this time—and I was responsible for whatever came with her.
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”
Levi’s look promised he would if I didn’t. I couldn’t blame him. A small nod was all I could manage.
A sharp whistle drew our attention back to Eli.
“Blondie has an interesting story.”
“Yeah?” I leaned in. “Tell me.”
“He’s a cop.”
“A cop and a mob enforcer working together?” Levi asked.
“To kidnap a child?” I added.
“And not just any cop.” Eli brought up a news story from a local DC newspaper. The headline, SERVICE RUNS IN THE FAMILY, was dated ten years ago. The cop, Ross Windon, had received a commendation for his work on a national drug task force.
And pictured right at the top was Windon and an older man, also in uniform, surrounded by officials.
Shit.
Levi reached past me to point at the background where a young teen stood, clapping and smiling. A teen with rich blonde hair and a smile that hadn’t changed much in a decade.
Pictured left to right: Ross Windon, Police Commissioner Ross Windon Sr., and Leah Windon at awards ceremony.
The caption hit me like a gun butt to the head. “That’s not her name.”
It was stupid, I know. Names changed. Maybe Leah and Brooke’s father had married. Except there was no public record of either a marriage or a name change.
“Unfortunately,” Eli said, clicking through more screens, “it was. I don’t know how or why, but it was.”
“How are they related?” Levi asked. The dark undertone of his voice made my skin crawl because the threat was directed toward the woman I loved. Or thought I loved. Except I didn’t really know her, and she was a threat to our family. A threat I’d invited in.
“He’s her brother.”
We’re not supposed to show weakness, but I closed my eyes for the briefest moment. She’d cried after the call, but not since. She’d been oddly calm, actually.
Because she knew her brother had Brooke? Because she thought her daughter was physically safe?
And she hadn’t told me, had in fact led me to believe her daughter’s kidnapper might not be able to find her if she left the house.
She’d lied. And I was about to find out why.
Chapter Six
Leah —
I’d worked a twelve-hour shift, struggled through the destruction of the home I’d built for my daughter and me, Brooke’s kidnapping, the death of one of the only friends I had allowed myself to have. When the door closed behind Remi, leaving me alone in the silent room, all of that came flooding back. Suddenly I couldn’t stand the clothes touching my body, the sweat and dirt and memories. I’d taken a shower at the hospital after my shift, but after everything that had happened, I couldn’t get my clothes off fast enough.
After grabbing a fresh set from my suitcase, I hurried into the adjoining bathroom. The colors from the bedroom had been carried over, calming cream walls and deep blue tile. I set my clothes on the counter, stripped, and took advantage of the new toothbrush and toothpaste waiting on the counter before turning the water in the shower on to heat.
The tears hit when I stepped beneath the spray.
I tried to hold them back. Crying was a weakness I couldn’t afford. Hell, I had gone through my entire pregnancy, labor, and delivery with no one to hold my hand, share the burden, prop me up when I felt like I couldn’t take another step. I was strong. Crying didn’t make you strong, and it sure as hell didn’t help you fight.
But I couldn’t make them stop. Twice in one day, damn it.
I should be sitting beside Brooke on her bed, the two of us making slow progress on her latest chapter book, her warm body getting heavier as she drifted into sleep against my side. I should be tucking her in beneath the soft pink and yellow comforter she’d chosen when she turned five and moved from a toddler bed to her very own “big girl” twin-size. I should be watching her eyelids flutter, those long, long lashes she’d inherited from her father brushing her cheeks as she slept.
Would Ross tuck her in? Was she crying herself to sleep without her mommy to hold her in a strange place. He might not be hurting her, but what about her fear, her panic, her hunger, her need. What would he do to stop those?
Jesus, I wanted Brooke in my empty arms right now.
I leaned my forehead against the chilled tile and let go. Just let it all out. Clear the decks, my dad used to say. Get it over with, then get back to finding her.
The logical part of my brain was right. I cried until I gagged, cried until my tear ducts ran dry and the endorphins had run their course, and then I washed myself from head to toe, rinsing off the fear and grief. By the time I turned the never-ending stream of hot water off, I was ready for battle.
With Remi or Ross, I wasn’t sure. Whichever I had to, I guess.
My dirty clothes went into the trash can—never wearing those again—and my clean clothes went on my body one piece at a time. The only armor I had. I walked from the bathroom into the bedroom determined to find Remi and figure out what we could do to find Brooke right this minute—
Only to draw up short.
“Hello.”
Abby Roslyn was arranging a tray on the table in the corner. The scent of warm bread and cookies registered in my nose about the time my gaze settled on the thick sandwich, chips, and dessert she’d brought in. A rumble hit my stomach seconds later.
Abby smiled. “I thought you might need something to eat.” The smile collapsed into a frown as her gaze brushed my face, no doubt noting the redness and distress I couldn’t hide. “I understand it’s been a stressful evening. I’m sorry.”
Abby had never had children as far as I knew—and yes, I looked her up after Levi and Eli had released me. She had been my fellow captive, after all, though she’d seemed content to stay with the men by the time I’d met her. She couldn’t relate to mi
ssing her child, but she knew what it was like to be kidnapped, so I took the sympathy as genuine.
“I am sorry too.” So damn sorry my life had come back to haunt us, to harm Brooke. Moving toward the table, I settled a hand on my growling stomach. “The food is definitely appreciated. Thank you.”
Abby took the seat opposite me as I settled in to eat. “Levi said they’d be up shortly to talk. I thought I’d get you fueled up first.”
“For the interrogation?”
It was only partially a joke. With Remi, I’d believe we were just going to talk. With Levi? Interrogation might be putting it mildly.
“We want to help you, Leah.”
I sighed. She probably did. Unfortunately I didn’t trust the man she was involved with one inch.
“You live here now?” I asked, hoping to take her focus off me.
“I do,” she said.
Something of the Atlanta socialite came through in her answer. Though she didn’t spend as much time in the spotlight as she had when her father was alive, she’d been raised to wealth and privilege. This mansion eclipsed the home Derrick Roslyn, then a gubernatorial candidate, had died in, but it probably felt far more normal to her than it did to me.
I took a bite of the sandwich and chewed. How normal did her relationship with Levi feel?
“And yes,” Abby said, seeming to read my mind, “Levi and I are together.”
“You didn’t take my advice then.” Not that I’d expected her to. She was young. Levi was a bad-boy alpha male with occasional glimpses of normalcy. Of course she was susceptible.
Abby planted her elbows on the table, surprising me. Chin cradled in her hands, she said, “I know him, Leah.”
I’m sure you think you do. I popped a chip in my mouth.
I understood the appeal; after all, I had been caught in the same web with Angelo. We might even have ended up in a similar place. But Angelo had ended up dead, and I’d had my entire life stripped away. There were no illusions left for me to indulge.
Abby leaned back in her chair. “I never got to thank you for helping Remi.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Not that I regretted helping him, not really.
And what the hell was wrong with me? Antagonizing the woman wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I needed every ounce of help I could get.
I needed to shut my mouth.
I did, with another bite of sandwich.
Abby shook her head. “You still hold a grudge; I get it. But you didn’t report anything either, so don’t try to pretend you didn’t understand why he did it.”
I threw down my napkin. So much for diplomacy. “Of course I understand why he did it. What I don’t understand is your willing blindness toward a man who is a straight-up killer. You think he loves you—”
“He does.”
“I thought the same, a long time ago.” Angelo wouldn’t have given his life for a woman he didn’t love. “And maybe he truly does, Abby. That doesn’t mean that at some point his lifestyle won’t get you killed.”
A vee creased Abby’s forehead. “Is that what happened with your daughter’s father?”
Your daughter. Brooke wasn’t just my daughter; she was a human being, and they needed to see her that way. See her as valuable.
“Brooke,” I said, fear thickening the word. “Her name is Brooke.”
Something soft sparked in Abby’s gaze. She nodded. “Brooke’s father?”
I stared at her a moment. I’d never told anyone the whole story with Angelo, not even Ross. My father didn’t know he had a granddaughter, or if his own daughter was still alive. He’d never have understood the whole story, but Abby...
Standing up, I left the table behind to pace the length of the room. “I met Angelo when I was seventeen.”
Abby turned in her seat to face me. “You were young.”
A grin tugged at my lips. “And naive. He came into the coffee shop where I worked.” The memory of the first time I’d seen him standing in line, his sharp gaze pinning me in place, still sent a shiver through my body. Based on my reaction to him, and to Remi, and the lack of response to any other man in between, I definitely had a type.
Too bad for me.
“He was older, in his thirties, but the moment I saw him, I knew...” I shook my head. “It was love at first sight.” I still couldn’t believe he was gone. It seemed unreal even now.
“So you started dating?”
I shook off the horror creeping in at the corners of my mind. “We did. I didn’t tell my family—my dad was protective, probably because we lost my mom when I was a little girl. And I didn’t want anything to ruin this shiny new happiness that had taken over my life.
“It wasn’t until I found out I was pregnant that he told me he worked for the mob.”
Abby’s gasp made me chuckle.
“I told you,” I said, “I understand the appeal.”
“What happened?”
I met her eyes, and I knew she could guess the end of my story.
“He died.”
“Jesus, Leah. I’m so sorry.”
I turned toward the darkened window. Night had fallen hard, but the lawn outside was lit with a myriad of lights. Security, of course. You can’t stop a threat you didn’t see coming. “It was a long time ago.”
And now it was coming back to harm the family Angelo had given his life to protect.
“I think Angelo and Levi are a lot more alike than you want to acknowledge,” Abby said. “They both love, or loved”—she winced—“their women. Their families. Levi would do anything to protect me, just as Angelo was willing to do for you.”
I couldn’t hold back a laugh at that, though the sound wasn’t the least bit amused. “Oh, I have no doubt about that. The problem is, they can’t protect you from everything.”
“Leah—”
I threw up a hand. “Just stop, Abby, okay? You’re not going to convince me that Levi’s the good guy here. I don’t even believe Remi is a good guy. I don’t trust any of you.”
A stricken look crossed the redhead’s face, but I hardened my heart, forced myself to ignore it.
“If you don’t want to be here, if you don’t want our help, why don’t you leave? What about your family?”
I barely held back a snort. “I don’t have any.” Not that I would draw into this, anyway.
The door opened behind me. I turned, the sight of Remi taking my breath in that way I hated but couldn’t seem to avoid. And then his expression registered.
Uh-oh.
“Don’t have any what?” he asked, voice deceptively calm.
“Family,” Abby answered for me. Probably a good thing since my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“Hmm...” Remi’s eyes narrowed on me, the pure rage shining there drawing me like the beauty of a King Cobra about to strike. “That’s not entirely true, is it?”
Chapter Seven
Remi —
Leah had lied to me. The thought reverberated in my brain even as I watched shock flare in her eyes. It wasn’t so much that she hadn’t told me the man on the phone was her brother; it was everything else. I’d been so blinded by my feelings for her that I hadn’t thoroughly vetted the person I had brought into my family’s home.
I’d put my family at risk—for a woman.
The knowledge filled me with rage.
“Tell me, Leah.”
Abby was silent, seated at a table in the corner, her lips tight as she watched us. I heard my brothers enter the room behind me. They always had my back, even when I majorly fucked up. God, how I’d fucked up.
I stalked Leah across the room, my anger and the bulk of my body pushing her back until her spine hit the wall. “Tell me.”
The impact jolted her out of her shock. “Tell you what?” she asked.
“Tell me about your family.” My words came out gravel-rough, sharp edges cutting. “You do have one, I know you do, so don’t bother lying anymore.”
Her eyes went w
ide. “What are you talking about?”
For a moment I wished I didn’t have to do this, wished Leah and I could somehow disappear to a place where the world couldn’t touch us and we could just be normal, have a chance at something beyond secrets and the danger they brought with them. But normal had passed me by as a child, and I was beginning to suspect Leah hadn’t been far behind. I held up the printout. “Care to tell me about him?”
Her gaze dropped to the paper. Had I not known his background, I still would’ve known the man was related to her—it was in the shape of their eyes, the fullness of their mouths that was too feminine on Ross and just right on Leah. The chin that was slightly squared off, heavier on Ross than his sister. Even their coloring favored each other.
There was no doubt they were related; I simply needed Leah to admit it to me herself. But she stood, frozen, eyes transfixed by the sight of the man in the picture, her mouth open as if to speak.
Nothing came out.
Something snapped. My hands fisted, my knuckles slamming into the wall on either side of Leah’s head. A strong arm snaked around my throat, yanking me back—one of my brothers; I didn’t care which, only that their grip jolted me out of my rage. Out of the need to get in my woman’s face and roar until she told me why she’d lied to me. I needed to force the truth out of her, one way or another—
And that lack of control was completely unacceptable.
The grip on my neck tightened, an anchor grounding me when I felt lost in the sea of emotion. I focused on it, on now, on reality. Leah was a threat, and I knew how to deal with threats.
A double tap to the arm had it easing off. Eli, I realized. Giving him a nod of thanks, I turned back to Leah. “Sit down,” I barked.
Hands gripping her elbows, face white, Leah complied. She didn’t look at Abby or my brothers, her dark eyes riveted solely on my face, waiting for my next command. I’d let her wait.
When the silence had stretched to the breaking point, I spoke. “You are going to tell us everything you know, Leah. Everything. Start with your real name.”
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