“What the fuck, Majid!” Drae barked as he angrily stalked into the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth that he swiftly soaked with cold water and tossed to Cam who had an ugly gash on his temple that was oozing blood down the side of his face.
He knew his own face hadn’t fared much better, conscious of the taste of blood in his mouth and the rapid swelling in one eye. Pretending his rib cage wasn’t on fire was going to be a lost cause. His knuckles were seriously fucked up, raw and bloody, and dammit if his favorite sunglasses weren’t in several pieces outside on the pavement. Drae almost laughed. Here, two steroid-crazed muscle men had just tried to fuck him up and he was cool-headedly lamenting the loss of a fucking pair of Ray-Bans.
“Drae? Jesus Christ. You scared the fucking shit outta me.” Majid was white as a sheet and definitely looked like he’d seen better days. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Drae sneered at him and tossed Cam the cord from the clock radio on the nightstand that he yanked off. “Tie ‘em together back-to-back. Make it hard for them to get up when they come to. Will give us time to disappear.”
“Charlie Mike,” Cam drawled while casting Majid a dark scowl. “Motherfucking stupid-ass kid,” he muttered under his breath while he set about putting Thing One and Thing Two in a Chinese knot that’d take them some time to wrangle out of.
“I’m here, you little snot, because your dad is having an epic meltdown over you disappearing. Seriously, Majid. What in the fucking fuck is wrong with you? Did you really think you could go off radar and not expect Dashur to sit up and take notice? You’re a goddamn crowned prince, not some hipster dumbass. Although judging by the trail of stupidity we followed to locate you, dumbass is being nice.”
Fuck. His ribs were killing him and the blood coming from Cam’s head hadn’t lessened. He’d had enough of this shit. Angrily stomping around the room, he picked up a backpack in the corner and tossed it at Majid’s head.
“Pack. Now. You have five minutes tops and then we’re outta here. Where’d your girlfriend go?” Swiping his hand across his mouth, he scowled at the bloody evidence from the altercation with the unconscious thugs and turned murderous eyes on the nineteen-year-old who had been foolish enough to bring all this on.
“Oh, uh….she went to the 7-Eleven around the corner. She’ll be right back.”
“Pack her shit, too, and hurry the fuck up.” Nodding at the two men on the floor he barked, “How much are you in for?”
Majid didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about.
“Ten grand,” he muttered sheepishly.
Drae glanced at Cam and nodded briefly. “You got this?” he asked.
“Be right back,” he hissed then swiftly exited the room, shutting the door quietly behind him after leveling a savage glare at Majid. Cam hated privileged snots like this kid. Pissed him off royally having come from nothing and fighting, quite literally, through blood and guts to get to a place where he no longer had to worry about where or how he’d lay his head every night.
Sitting carefully on the rickety bed, his arm banded across his stomach, conscious of how bruised his ribs were with every difficult movement, Drae watched Majid who had the good sense to keep his fucking mouth shut while he hurriedly stuffed his belongings into the bag.
“Two minutes,” he growled as the door to the room opened and Cam appeared with the girlfriend in tow.
She was plain and rather unremarkable, something that sort of surprised Drae because if Majid had played the royalty card, he could have had the hottest girl on campus. Even though he was putting his best hard-ass attitude on display, specifically to scare the shit out of the kid, he liked him even more. Maybe there was hope for his sorry, stupid ass.
The girl looked frightened to death. Cam had a way about him when he was in a fury that would have scared every superhero in the Marvel universe. This would all be a funny story to tell later, but right now, they were still in a world of jeopardy.
“Mark,” the girl cried. “What’s happening?” She was shaking like a leaf, clutching her big satchel against her body as if it would protect her from harm as she caught sight of the two thugs tied up on the floor.
Majid hurried to her side. “It’s okay, Nora. They’re friends of mine. But we have to get out of here. I’ve got your stuff, okay? Let’s just go, and I’ll explain later.”
Drae struggled from the end of the bed, walked into the dimly lit bathroom and spit into the sink. He turned on the water, watched the bloody spittle wash away, cupped his hand beneath the faucet and brought it to his mouth. Rinsing as best he could, he glanced in the mirror and noted the bruises on his cheek and around his eye. Fuck. Tori would not be happy. And when Lacey saw the nasty gash on her husband’s forehead? He was pretty sure there’d be some uncharacteristic swearing going on.
They’d come prepared to deal with Majid’s bookie issue. Drae watched impassively as Cam tucked an envelope full of cash into Thing One’s back pocket. When he straightened and nodded, he looked carefully around the room making sure nothing was being left behind.
Shuffling the two college students to the door, he grabbed Majid by the shoulder and demanded, “You all paid up here or do I have to take care of that, too?”
The kid turned beet red and hung his head at Drae’s obvious rebuke.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” he grumbled, exasperated and frustrated. “Cam?”
Cam stood there and shook his head in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding?” he snapped.
“Apparently not,” Drae bit out. “You take care of the manager while I get these two fucktards in the car.”
It was over. They’d done what they came to do. Rescued one pathetic wayward Middle Eastern prince, side-stepped a multi-national security crisis, paid off a gambling debt, and gotten out of it in one piece. One bloody and bruised piece, but still.
They drove to the craptacular motel where Cam and Drae had been staying in total silence. Cam did the driving while Drae, too banged up to handle the wheel, tapped away at a series of emails and texts on his phone. The cowering college sweethearts in the backseat had the good sense to remain silent. The tension in that shitty rental car was so thick and heavy you’d need a chainsaw to cut through it.
“Sawyer’s on standby,” he murmured to Cam.
“Good,” the other man muttered. “I’ve had enough of this shit,” he added while glancing into the rearview mirror to shoot Majid a dirty look that almost made Drae laugh. All he could think of just then was poor Dylan. With Cam playing the hard-ass, don’t-fuck-with-me father card, his kid was going to need to watch his P’s and Q’s if he wanted to survive childhood.
When they got to the motel, Cam made quick work of grabbing their stuff while Drae, Majid, and Nora stayed in the car. At one point in the damning silence, Majid had asked what happened next.
He’d started to turn around to answer when his ribs made that impossible so he motioned with his hand for Majid to lean forward.
“How much does she know?” he asked quietly.
“She doesn’t,” came the hesitant answer.
“Well, buck up then dude, ‘cause this ride’s about to get bumpy.”
Cam made his way back into the driver’s seat with a pained grunt. “Can we get the fuck out of here now? I need some goddamn ice and a handful of Ibuprofen.”
“Uh, actually bro, you may need stitches,” Drae told him. “Your head is still bleeding and judging by the old man hunch in your walk, I’d say something heavier than some anti-inflammatories is needed.”
“One thing at a time,” he muttered. “Let’s just get on board and deal with the particulars once we’re in the air.”
Drae heard a faint gasp from the backseat and smirked. Majid has some fast explaining to do because one look at the luxurious private jet waiting for them and his little girlfriend was going to explode with questions. Humph. And wait till he told him the King of Dashur himself was making a cameo in Chicago.
True to his word, Sawyer
was waiting when they got to the private airfield. He’d already filed a flight plan, and judging by the flurry of activity happening upon their arrival, the captain was just as anxious as they were to get underway.
“Jesus. You two look like shit,” he remarked as they limped to the steps of the plane. “Need help?”
Drae, who never enjoyed admitting he lacked in anything for any reason, made a wry face and tossed his travel bag at Sawyer. “Yeah. Carry that, would you?”
Cam was bringing up the rear, still with the menacing dark scowl plastered on his face as he tersely told the two kids to hurry the fuck up.
Sawyer had a comical expression on his face as he watched them scurry up the steps into the plane like a gun was being held to their heads.
“Do I even wanna know?” he asked Cam with an ill-disguised laugh.
Once they were out of earshot, Cam dropped his bag on the tarmac and snickered. “Fucking idiots. You’ve got a boy, don’t you, Sawyer?”
“Yeah. Ten years old in January.”
“I hope you’re teaching him to use his fucking head.”
Sawyer grinned. “Oh, you can bet on that! The wife is a teacher. Both our kids are expected to have a brain. She makes dinnertime quite lively, let me tell you. No pop culture bullshit—all current events. At least as much as a twelve-year-old girl and a ten-year-old boy can understand.”
“Well, maybe there’s still hope then,” Drae added. “’Cause this lot,” he bit out, gesturing with a nod to the just departed college students, “are a sorry bunch.”
“Hey, when’s your little one due, St. John? It’s soon, isn’t it?”
“Not soon enough. These last couple of weeks are hell.”
Sawyer gave him a good-natured slap on the back. “Hang in there, buddy. Right, Cam?”
Cameron grinned and let out a booming bark of laughter. “That’s all we men get to do at the end. Just hang in there!”
“Indeed,” Sawyer agreed. “Well, let’s get this show on the road. Next stop Chicago—then it’s back to sunny Arizona.”
“I LIKE THE CRIB SET,” Stephanie mumbled absently as she folded a basket full of freshly laundered blankets and onesies while Tori sat on the floor putting together an activity gym for the baby.
“This thing is cool as shit,” she declared once all the pieces were hung properly. “Mom, come here and check this out.”
Tori and Draegyn had chosen a combination of lavender hues with lots of cream, pale yellows and muted greens thrown in for the baby’s nursery. The overall effect was light and airy, cheerful and bright without being overwhelming. Stephanie found the suite charming.
But nothing, not even her daughter’s ebullient mood or the calming ambiance of the baby’s room, could lighten the melancholy in Stephanie’s mind.
Inspecting the adorable Baby Einstein gear, she told Tori, “My goodness but baby equipment has certainly changed since you were in a nursery. Your room was a mish-mosh of Muppet babies, Disney characters and Winnie-Pooh-Pooh, of course.”
Tori giggled and rubbed her tummy. “Oh, my God. Winnie-Pooh-Pooh! I remember how convinced I was that that was his name. Even Daddy called him Pooh-Pooh and would make farting noises to make me laugh.”
Shoving the new onesies into a drawer, she asked, “Did your husband call last night? You didn’t say.”
“Help me up, would you?” Tori said as she rolled onto her knees and lifted by using a chair for leverage. Stephanie noted that her daughter seemed different somehow and wondered about her state of mind.
Pulling her up and helping her steady, she asked, “Is everything alright, shugah?”
Tori was standing now with her hands pressed low on her back as her big belly stood out in stark relief. “I’m fine, Mom. Just restless. Is this what they refer to as the nesting phase? My mind is all over the place. Do we have enough blankets? Is the baby’s car seat the right one? Stuff like that.”
Stephanie couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t answered the question about Drae. Hmmmm. Time for a distraction. For both of them. Maybe that would help.
“Why don’t we wander up to the big house and see what Meghan’s up to. Last night she told me she was up to her eyeballs in Thanksgiving decorations. Maybe she needs help.”
Tori laughed. “Oh Christ, Mom. Believe me, Irish has got that under control. The woman’s a natural where all that’s concerned. You should have seen Halloween around here! She lost her shit completely and did this crazy haunted house thing out on the terrace. It was amazing.”
Okay then. Scratch going up to the house. Probably just as well. The chances of accidentally running into Calder made hanging out there a shitty idea anyway.
Damn. Why does practically every thought lead back to him? She’d been right to put the kibosh on whatever was happening between them. After all, her real life was in Atlanta and his in Aspen. Pretty much the only thing they had in common was that the towns they lived in started with the letter A.
He’d seemed genuinely upset when Stephanie had spelled out all the times he’d been less than gracious—something she felt was necessary. They might have some explosive sexual chemistry going on, but at the end of it all was the glaringly obvious fact that the man didn’t like her all that much. Not as a person, so what was the point?
Trouble was, she liked him regardless and found the admission unsettling. How exactly did you like someone who treated you like…well, like she didn’t know what. And that was the problem. She couldn’t understand what it was about her that set him off. He was a lot like Alex, had the same manners and treated everyone with respect. Everyone that was, except her.
“Mom,” Tori murmured, breaking the troubled waters of her thoughts. “I’m worried that Draegyn thinks we shouldn’t try for any more kids. After this one, of course.”
Good Lord. This was news—and not the good kind.
“What makes you think that? Did he say something?”
Tori wandered to the crib and smoothed the comforter for probably the thousandth time, sighing as she did. “It’s everything. Me. The shitty pregnancy. That kid he’s rescuing. His fucked-up family.” She shrugged and bit her lip in a most uncharacteristic way. Stephanie recognized an emotional roller coaster brought on by a difficult pregnancy when she saw one.
Going to her daughter’s side, she put an arm about her shoulders and hugged tight. “He’s just worried about you, honey. Everything will calm down once you have that baby in your arms. Remember—Draegyn loves you. He’s a man who needs to control his world, and right now, he’s helpless. I can see that it’s killing him to be so powerless. If I could give you both just one piece of motherly advice, it would be this—just calm the hell down. Really. Slow down. Enjoy the journey and don’t get so wrapped up in stuff that you miss what a special time this is.”
Tori sniffled and gave her a watery half smile. “Can you say that to Draegyn too, Mom? I think he needs to hear it. Sometimes I just want to go to his parents and smack the shit out of them for the way they treat their kids. Desi acts like it’s no big whupp that she and her brother are emotional orphans, but I know that’s bullshit. It has to hurt, and Lord knows, I can attest firsthand how fucked they made my husband.”
Stephanie had to hand it to her daughter. Girl had sharp senses and a way with words that always made her smile.
“You know, sweetie. I understand a little about why Draegyn is struggling. He’s an awful lot like your father was.”
“Really?”
“Mmmm hmmm.” She wrapped Tori’s pregnant body with a big motherly hug. “We were pregnant during a tough time, too. Daddy’s parents were in rapid decline, we were moving, his career was taking off, Gramps and Gran had both passed on by then, and I didn’t know shit about being pregnant or babies or any of that stuff. Growing up the way I did, I never really had a lot of girlfriends. And after college, the ones I had by then were either as clueless as I was or popping out babies like candies from a Pez dispenser.”
“Wow.”
>
“Daddy thought he had to be Superman or something. He was worried about his folks, freaking out about fitting in at a new law firm, plus dealing with a young wife who cried all the damn time.”
“Mom!” Tori giggled. “You were a crier? That’s hard to believe.”
“Oh sweetie,” she chuckled. “I cried over every little thing. If it was sunny out, I wept. If it rained, I sobbed. When I made dinner, I boo-hooed over scorched peas. Your dad became a lunatic trying to stay on top of my moods. He liked to tease me that I’d cry at a Kmart opening—and he was right.”
She led Tori to the overstuffed loveseat that gave them a glorious view of the mountains in the distance and sat her down. Grasping her hands, she kissed each one and said, “But shugah, once we had you all that nonsense just faded into the background. Was like it never even happened. Sometimes we would hover over your crib and just stare at you for hours. There was an awful lot of love bouncing off the walls in our little apartment.”
“I think I get it, Mom.”
“Good. I’m glad. Now answer the question you dodged earlier. Did you hear from that hunky hubby of yours last night and when the hell is he coming home?”
Tori shot her a halfie—half grin and half shrug. “He texted. They were on the plane heading back to Chicago. Found the kid and were working on returning him to college. That’s all I know. I asked Lacey earlier if she had any details, but she didn’t give much up. Hate it when everyone thinks I need kid glove handling. There’s more, I’m sure of it, but until Draegyn actually calls, I’m fucked.”
CALDER WAS IN HELL. OR in close proximity. The agency had downshifted into easy mode due to the approaching holiday. They still had a training exercise wrapping up out in the desert, but aside from that, there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot going on.
He’d spent part of the morning vetting applicants for a couple of openings and projects coming up after the first of the year. It hadn’t come as all that much of a surprise to learn that the three Justice Brothers were opening up the agency to a new generation of people who would take over much of the nitty gritty stuff. Now that they’d made a name for themselves and secured a spotless reputation as a top-notch organization, it made sense for Alex, Cameron, and Draegyn to start stepping back. Let some younger, hungrier folks do the work. They’d earned it. Hell, they’d more than earned it.
Always (Family Justice Book 1) Page 20
