“Jen!” I shout. A small group of college guys pass by the edge of the alley and pause when they hear my frantic shout.
“Help!” I shout. “These guys are kidnapping a little girl!”
The group of guys exchange looks and then break into a jog toward Buzz Cut and Sean.
Sean takes one look at them and his lip curls up into a snarl. “I don’t need you. Yet. Go back to that fucking mansion and wait. Because I’m coming for you next.”
He turns and runs toward the car, hops in the passenger seat, and then the tires squeal, rocketing the car out of the alley and past the two winded security guards who let this all happen.
The college guys come to a stop, sucking in air as they watch the car pass out of view. I watch too, realizing I’ve just failed Jen like I failed Vanessa.
“Slow down,” says Dean, but his hard eyes say what his calm voice hides.“We’re going to get her back.” The anger in them is more frightening than any I ever saw in Sean’s, but not because I’m afraid he’ll hurt me, it’s because I’m afraid there’s nothing he won’t hurt or destroy to get his little girl back. Watching Dean is like watching a growing tsunami far off the coast and knowing it’s only going to be more furious and terrible when it makes landfall--when he finds Sean.
I came straight home and explained everything to Dean after Jen was taken. I’m only now dimly realizing I should have called the police or at least called Dean right away, but all I could think of was getting back to him.
I feel sick for admitting it, even to myself, but I want to watch that collision between Dean and Sean, not just for what Sean has done to me but because he was low enough to bring a little girl into this.
“Did you see where they went?” he asks.
Murph, Tanner, and Selene are gathered around the kitchen island, watching us intently. Murph and Tanner have balled fists and exchange a glance I can’t read when I explain what happened, almost a guilty look, but that wouldn’t make sense. What would they have to feel guilty about?
“No. But the car was a Mercedes. I tried to remember the license plate but I only had a split second to look. I might have some of the numbers or letters mixed up. I think it was like GH2 Q or maybe an O and then some numbers. I really can’t remember more,” I say, feeling like a failure. I might be putting my hope in Dean fixing this because I tried to stop it from happening and couldn’t. Just like with Vanessa, I couldn’t do anything but watch. Even though I ran after her, what good did it do? She’s still in his hands despite all my efforts, and knowing I tried doesn’t make me feel much better.
“Damn it, Camille, think!” says Dean, surprising me with the sudden burst of anger.
“I’m trying,” I say. “It was just so fast. Everything happened so fast.”
Dean’s terrifying anger seems to be so great that it spills over and finds me, and though some logical part of me knows he isn’t really mad at me, that he’s just so upset right now he can’t help accidentally lashing out, I still feel spurned. The look in his eyes reminds me of how my parents looked at me when I recounted my tearful version of what happened to Vanessa. I see hints of the same disgust there, the same question seems to burn unspoken between us, so hot that the letters might as well be etched into the air like streaks of molten fire: Why didn’t you save her?
It’s more than I can take right now, and I rush from the kitchen, heading for the nearest bedroom where I throw myself down on the bed and curl into the fetal position, too hurt and confused to cry. I just stare at the wall, eyes wide and unseeing.
“Cammy?” comes a soft voice. “It’s me,” says Selene, who edges into the room and sits on the bed beside me, placing a soothing hand on my shoulder.
“Is he still out there?” I ask.
“No, he and his brothers are going to go check out the motel where Sean was staying. They decided it was better than sitting on their hands while they wait for the new security guy to give them hits on the license plate numbers.”
“I should go with them,” I say, moving to get up.
“No. Don’t be stupid. Cammy, this is serious. I mean, I know I don’t need to tell you that, right?” She searches my face imploringly, trying to dig out whether I’m really needing to be told that I have no place going on some vigilante rescue mission to stop a kidnapping.
“We should call the police,” I say. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t do it already. I just felt like I had to tell Dean, but I haven’t been thinking straight since she was taken.” I pat around the bed, searching for my phone.
“No police, not now, at least. Think about it, Cammy. The guys are already headed to the motel. Say Sean is there. You think Dean is going to want the police around to see what he does to him? No. We call the police now and we just end up getting our men locked up. Besides, cops are fucking useless.”
“Our men?” I ask, grinning despite everything. Distracting myself with a little girl talk sounds very appealing right about now. God knows I have been neglecting Selene since I dragged her into all this, and I’ve missed her. Now that I feel like everything is spinning out of control, a simple conversation about boys is exactly what I need.
She frowns for a moment, as if trying to figure out why I’d ask a question like that at a time like this, but her confusion passes quickly. Selene knows me well. Frighteningly well, and she drops the concerned, serious face for her old trademark smirk. “You heard me. Our men,” she says.
A smile twitches across my lips, fleeting but refreshing. “I like how I called you in to save me from getting kidnapped and you just decided to shack up with my kidnapper’s brother instead.”
“Girl, this kidnapping was your ‘saving’. If I had done anything about it, you would’ve wound up back in that nipple turd’s life.”
“Nipple turd? I’m guessing you mean Sean?”
She makes an exasperated face. “Obviously. How many other nipple turds do you know?”
“I’d have to say just the one.”
“I missed us,” she says suddenly, gripping my leg and frowning.
“What do you mean?” I ask, even though I know exactly what she means.
“Things have just been different with you lately. You’ve… I’m just glad you’re here, with Dean. I know right now it probably doesn’t seem like the best place to be, but I think we’ll find Jen and we’ll get her back safe. And Dean… he’s so good for you, Cammy. I mean it, like, the way you look when you’re with him makes me so happy to see.” She smiles, wiping a tear from her eye. “God. It’s dusty in here. Making my allergies act up.”
I grin. “There’s no dust in here, you big softy,” I say.
“Shut up.”
I hug her tightly, closing my eyes. “Thank you, Selene.”
15
Dean
The car engine roars as I tear down the last stretch of highway before we reach the motel where I took Camille from Sean. I fired everyone from my security company and contacted a completely new contractor before we left. I even paid triple the month’s fee to have the men rush over to my place. I still feel wrong for leaving her behind. In the moment, I was pissed. I was feeling so furious and angry that I was lashing out at the wrong people, and in that instant, it didn’t feel reckless to trust Camille’s safety to another private security firm. But now it feels like a risk. An intolerable risk.
I almost turn the car around, but I know my daughter is somewhere. She’s scared and alone, wondering why her daddy hasn’t saved her yet.
I grip the steering wheel so hard it might snap, clenching my teeth as I rip across the road.
“So what do we do if he’s at the motel?” asks Murph.
“Glove box,” I say.
Murph opens the glove box and sucks in a breath of surprise. “Where the fuck did you get these?”
Tanner leans over from the back seat to get a look. “What the fuck, Dean?”
“They’re just pistols. Smith and Wesson. You don’t point them at anything you don’t want dead and they are
n’t a big deal. Take them. Safeties are on.”
“Do you even know how to work a gun?” asks Tanner.
“Of course I do. I had a retired navy SEAL train me when I bought them.”
Murph tentatively takes one of the guns out, holding it like it might bite him. “The safety is on,” I say again.
He carefully hands the other gun to Tanner, who looks down gravely at it.
“We’re really going to do this if we find him?” asks Tanner.
“You have any other ideas?” I say coldly. “We can’t just ask him nicely to give her back. We make him see we’re not fucking around, and if he’s smart, he’ll give her up. If he’s not, then we’re going to have to escalate things.”
“And why exactly aren’t we calling the cops again?” asks Murph.
“Because the cops have to play by the rules,” I say. “And I can’t afford to let rules come before saving my little girl. Nothing can.”
My brothers look like they want to say more, but they know better than to push me on this. Despite where we are now, we didn’t grow up easy, and I lost track of how many times I had to fight to keep them safe when we were growing up in foster care. No. No fucking amount of money can take that edge from us.
Tanner racks a bullet in the chamber of his gun and tucks it in his suit jacket. Murph tries to do the same but fumbles the weapon, sending it bouncing to his lap.
“For fuck’s sake,” I say, snatching it from him while my other hand is on the wheel. “I’ll give this back to you when we get out, when you’re less likely to shoot yourself in the nuts.”
The motel looks just as shitty in the middle of the day as it did the night I took Callie from here. Honestly, it looks even shittier now. We get out of the car and I tuck the pistol in my waistband with the safety still on. I hand Tanner his, racking a bullet in the chamber before I do. “See this?” I say. “That’s the safety. Just flick it with your thumb when you want to shoot. And don’t point it at me, Tanner, or Jen if she’s in there. Okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Why are you just talking to me like I don’t know what I’m doing. Pretty sure Tanner doesn’t know shit about guns, either.”
“At least he didn’t drop the thing in the car. Same goes for you too though, Tanner.”
“Yeah, I got it,” says Tanner, who slides the barrel of the gun down the front of his waistband, covering it up with his suit jacket.
“It was this one,” I say, leading us to the room Camille sat outside. Room 121, according to the sign. I look between my brothers, making sure they are all ready. Tanner’s hand hovers suspiciously in front of his belt, Murph actually has his tucked in his pocket, where he’s probably clutching the pistol. I keep mine in clear view. At least one of us can look like we’re not about to go fucking bonkers.
I knock hard on the door. “Open the fucking door,” I shout.
There’s no answer, and I’m not feeling patient, so I kick it beside the doorknob and the flimsy door shatters open.
A man and woman with white hair and age-marked skin sit on the bed, arms around each other.
“Were you two making out?” asks Murph, who lets his hand drop from his jacket.
“Did you just kick down our door?” asks the man, while his eyes dart between us rapidly. The woman he’s with clutches tightly to him, shaking.
“Where’s Sean,” I ask.
“Sean Hamilton? Last I saw him was at bridge three nights ago. Has he gotten into trouble again?”
“What’s Sean’s last name?” Murph asks me in a low voice.
“Fuck if I know, but something tells me he doesn’t play bridge with these two,” I whisper back. “He’s not here.”
“Sorry for interrupting,” says Tanner as we file out of the room.
“Use protection!” shouts Murph just before the door closes.
I swat the back of his head.
Tanner rolls his eyes. “Murph, that lady was like seventy. Nature has her plenty protected, asshole.”
“Damn, man. You’re the one trying to call her seventy. She still had some curves in the right places. I’d call her sixty-five years young.”
I get in the car and slam the door, staring at the dashboard as I fume. I knew it was a long shot to find Sean there, but it was the only real lead I had for now. Beyond knocking down every door in the fucking city, all I can do is wait for my guy to get back to me about the plates, and waiting does not feel like an option. My little girl is out there somewhere, and every second that goes by could…
I shake my head, feeling my anger threaten to boil over again. No. She’s going to be okay. I’m going to find her and she’s going to be okay.
My phone rings and I snatch it up as Murph and Tanner get back in the car, still arguing about the old lady’s age.
“Camille?” I ask as I pick up. “Is everything okay?”
“Don’t be mad,” she says quickly, “But I have a plan, and I kind of already started it without you.”
“Camille…” I say in a low voice.
“I called Sean. I said I wanted to meet him. I said he could have me if he gave Jen back.”
“You did what?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“I told you not to be mad!” she says quickly. “It’s a trap, Dean. At least that’s the plan. The guys you hired said they’d come along and tail me to make sure nothing happens.”
I grip the phone so hard I hear it creak in my grip. She’s making me choose, whether she realizes it or not. She’s putting her life on one end of the scale and my daughter’s on the other. But I’m not going to choose. Maybe I’ve only known Camille for a few weeks, but the strength of what I feel for her already is too powerful to ignore. And even if I didn’t know her, I couldn’t sacrifice one life for another.
I think to some that would make me sound like a shitty father. After all, what kind of man wouldn’t give up a woman he’s only known a few weeks for his daughter? But fuck that and fuck them. It’s not that simple. Jen would want me to find a way that keeps everyone safe because she’s a good kid, and neither of us would be able to live with it if the cost of her freedom is Camille.
“You can’t do this,” I say calmly. “I forbid it.”
“You forbid it?” she asks shakily. “Dean, I was right there. I told her to run, and--” she sniffles through the phone and takes a heaving breath. “I should have been able to protect her. They took her because I couldn’t stop it. Do you understand that? If there’s even the miniscule chance I can make this right, I’m going to try, no matter the cost.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Camille,” I say.
Her voice sounds cold. “You weren’t there.”
“I didn’t have to be. You want someone to blame? Blame Sean. He’s the only one at fault here, and we’re going to make him pay. Together.”
There’s a long pause. “How?”
I look down, letting the pieces come together in my head. “You go through with the meeting, but we’re all going to be there, and that fucker is either going to take us to Jen willingly or at gunpoint. That’s how. You said the security is already coming?”
“Yeah,” she says. “They’ll be there.”
“Good. If Sean had my guys bought and paid for before, we have to assume they’re still working for him. I don’t think he’ll come alone. Whether he comes with his idiot friends or with military contractors, we have to be ready.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” she says. “Sean works construction jobs. He barely makes enough to pay for the motels we bounced around in. There’s no way he could afford to bribe your security guards.”
I already came to the same conclusion, but I have a piece of the puzzle Camille doesn’t. I know what lengths Barry would go to in order to get me back for passing the company to Peterson instead of him. Buying some lowlife scum like Sean and my bodyguards sounds exactly like the kind of spineless thing he would pull. “I think I know the answer to that riddle. Remember the asshole from the night of the play? Barry?”
“Shit,” she says. “You don’t think he…”
“I do. In fact, I’d bet my fortune on it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means getting Jen back is only the first step, because Sean is just a pawn in all of this. Barry has enough money to keep pouring into this for as long as his anger lasts, and if I know him at all, that could be forever. But one thing at a time. Jen first. We have to get my little girl back.”
“I’m with you,” says Camille. “Whatever it takes.”
Camille calls us a half hour later with the location for the meetup. It’s an abandoned trailer park about ten minutes from the motel. We wait on the side of the highway until Camille drives past in the Bentley I told her to take from my house. She’s tailed by a caravan of blacked out SUVs--the new private security team. We pull out behind her and follow the SUVs, which trail her by half a mile or more to avoid tipping Sean off, who, of course, insisted on Camille coming alone.
“An abandoned trailer park?” asks Murph. “How does that even happen? Like one day everyone just decides they’ve had it and they walk away from their homes?”
“It happens because they built them in a flood zone,” I say. “Remember all the flooding we had two years back? The place was under water for several weeks, and I guess there wasn’t anything worth going back to when the water finally cleared.”
“How does he know about it?” asks Murph.
“Hell if I know. Maybe he lived there. Maybe one of his cousins did or something. Does it matter?”
Murph sinks back into his seat, eyebrows furrowed. “You think he’ll bring Jen?”
“I fucking hope so, but I doubt it. Camille agreed to trade herself for Jen, but he told her to come alone. If he was actually planning to give Jen back to us, he’d leave her somewhere safe and drop her off later. There’d be no point bringing her now.”
“Maybe he’ll take the trade,” says Tanner.
“I hope,” I say. “But I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”
Bad for the Billionaires: A Bad Boy Billionaire Bundle Page 75
