“You know something, Talon.”
“Do I?” I took a sip of champagne.
“If there’s something I can do to help him, I think you need—”
Before he could finish the sentence, our attention was diverted to a commotion near the front door.
From my vantage point above most of the others, all I could see was long dark hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail. Whoever it was was in a hurry, pushing through the throng, forcing the guests to step back or get run over.
“Have you seen my brother?” the woman asked someone, the wealth of concern in her tone instantly capturing my attention.
FIVE
TALON
Déjà vu.
It was during a party very similar to this one that I’d first been introduced to the dark-haired sweetheart who had once again crashed TJ’s party, this time sounding far more unraveled than the last.
“Excuse me,” I told Trent before making my way over to head the security guards off at the pass.
I intercepted the guy who fancied himself in charge before he could get his hands on the newest arrival, motioned him to the side.
“I don’t have time right now,” he snapped, attempting to circumvent me.
I stepped right into his path.
“You’ll make time,” I declared, keeping my voice low, stern. “If you’d like to avoid an incident like the last time.”
The man looked up at me, dark brown eyes sparking with irritation.
“She’s with me,” I informed him. “And don’t give me any bullshit about a costume or invitation. Call your dogs off.”
I could see he was gearing up to argue, but thankfully, TJ chose that moment to appear. He said something to his hound, and instantly there was a shift in the man’s expression.
“Of course, Master Arlington.”
When the man headed over to where Braelyn was still arguing with more of the security staff, TJ turned to me. “Like last time. You’ve got full access to my home.”
I nodded. “She wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t urgent.”
Although it wasn’t quite an apology, it was as close to one as I would give, and he knew it.
I didn’t go into further detail, nor did he ask. With purpose, I strolled over to Braelyn, gently gripping her by the arm. Her eyes flew up to my face and there was instant relief.
“Talon, I need to find him,” she whispered harshly.
“I know. This way.” I urged her away from the congregating guests and the curious eyes that had shifted in our direction.
There was no reason anyone else needed to know what was going on here.
“Where is he?” Braelyn demanded as I urged her up the winding staircase.
“We’ll discuss in a minute,” I stated firmly, offering a curt nod to a couple of other guests we passed.
“Talon!”
The shout came from downstairs, and I glanced back, seeing Trent glaring up at me.
Never subtle, that one.
“Not now, Trent.”
I opened the first door I came to. Seeing that the room was empty, I nudged Braelyn inside, closing the door behind us. She was shaking violently, her breaths rapid and choppy, her face red, appearing to be chapped by the wind.
I knew this was unlike the last time she’d come in search of her brother. She wasn’t merely panicking because she couldn’t reach him. This time, something had happened.
I wrapped a firm hand around her bicep, intending to lead her toward a chair, watching as a single tear slid down her smooth cheek. She stumbled once, more tears following the first, as though the dam had broken, all that had been held back now free. Next thing I knew, I was pulling her against me, cradling the back of her head with my hand, noticing how small she was in comparison.
Just like the first time I’d set eyes on her, something consumed me. An overwhelming protectiveness, a foreign desire. Since the one and only time I’d interacted with Braelyn Bishop, for the longest time I thought I’d imagined my reaction to her, but it appeared it hadn’t been all in my mind. The rush of emotion was the same, the urge to protect and defend still there.
Braelyn sobbed, clutching the lapels of my tuxedo as she leaned into me. The silk would wrinkle easily, but if it would make her feel better, I would’ve told her to set the damn thing on fire.
A knock sounded on the door. Perhaps it was more of a pound, signaling the impatience of whoever was on the other side.
Not like I didn’t know who it was.
A moment later, without invitation, Trent stormed into the room, closing the door behind him with hardly a click. Surprising considering the fury I could see on his face. His gas-flame blue eyes blazed, and it appeared I was the target.
“Who is she?” Trent demanded, his gaze shifting between me and Braelyn, where I still held her, cupping her head, holding her tight, keeping her face averted from him.
“Not your concern.”
“If this involves Ransom, it’s damn sure my concern.”
Braelyn instantly pulled back, her attention darting to Trent. “You know my brother?”
Trent’s expression sobered as the information sank in. The incredulity in his words was unmistakable when he asked, “Ransom’s your brother?”
Braelyn nodded.
Trent, slack-jawed and still staring, said, “I … yes, I know him.”
It was then Braelyn’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “Oh, my God. You’re…”
I exhaled heavily. We had no time for her to go all fangirl over the Hollywood superstar. “Braelyn Bishop, meet Trent Ramsey. Trent, Braelyn.”
“What’s wrong?” Trent asked, speaking directly to her.
“We were getting to that,” I told him, turning so that I stood between Braelyn and Trent. I tilted her chin back, studied her tear-streaked face.
“Talk to me.”
“He…” Braelyn sobbed, her amber gaze locking with mine. “I … I got away. But …” More sobs. “He knows where I live.”
“Who?”
Now she was sobbing too much to speak, so I pulled her close again, offered a reassuring, “Shh. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
There was more sniffling, a few more shudders, followed by, “God, you smell good.”
I was almost certain that was a chuckle that sounded from behind me, but I ignored it.
Pulling back, I peered down at her, unable to hide my smile. Her eyes were wide, the horror on her face amusing because it had replaced the true fear I’d witnessed moments ago.
“I’m so sorry,” she rushed to say. “I can’t believe I said that.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I slid my fingers along the side of her neck, curling my thumb beneath her chin, nudging her head up so we maintained eye contact.
It was only then that I gave her a good once-over. She looked as though she was dressed for bed. The too-large gray sweatpants all but swallowed her up. And the threadbare cotton shirt had seen better days. No doubt it had done nothing to shield her from the below-freezing temperatures we were experiencing.
But it was the fact she did not have on shoes that worried me most.
My gaze lifted back to her face. “How did you get here?”
She frowned, her eyes, the majestic color of liquid amber, locking with mine. “I … ran.”
Stepping back, I considered her. “What do you mean you ran? From where?”
“My apartment.” Her lips pursed. “It wasn’t that far.”
And that was the first lie she told me. I knew where she lived, and it damn sure wasn’t just around the corner as she would like me to believe.
“Why didn’t you call for an Uber?”
Her eyebrow cocked, the first hint of defensiveness showing. “I don’t have my phone.”
Nodding toward her socked feet, I asked, “And why didn’t you bother with shoes?”
Her answer came in the form of a head shake.
I turned to Trent. “Find her some dry socks.”
I could tell he wasn’t impressed with the command, but I didn’t much care. Braelyn had trekked what I guesstimated to be ten miles in the ice and snow. The least she deserved was dry fucking socks.
When he slipped out of the room, I turned to Braelyn. “Tell me what happened.”
Her lips started to move but no words came out. She took a deep breath, but rather than answer, she grumbled, “Fuck,” seconds before she began pacing. But not before a few more tears spilled over.
Then the opportunity to pull her into my arms was gone because she was on the move.
Although I was strangely fascinated by this woman, wanted to soothe her in a way I’d never wanted to soothe another, my patience was wearing thin. It was imperative I determined where Ransom might be. Whether she knew it or not, her brother was likely in more trouble than he’d anticipated. Or maybe more than I had anticipated considering he had been insistent I act sooner rather than later.
The door opened, momentarily distracting her, when Trent came back in. He tossed a pair of men’s socks in my direction. I caught them, tucking them into my pocket for the time being.
“Oh, God,” Braelyn said on a hiccuping sob.
Remembering Trent was watching us, I calmed myself, shifted into my commanding voice. “Miss Bishop, you need to tell me what happened. Now.”
My abrupt declaration had her spinning around to face me, her fastidious marathon coming to an abrupt halt. When she did, I reached for the upholstered chair near the antique writing desk in the corner, dragged it to the center of the room. With firm hands and clipped movements, I sat her in place, then squatted down in front of her.
Hoping to give her a moment to collect herself, I gently slid the drenched socks from her feet, tossed them aside before sliding the clean, dry ones on. Every so often, I would peer up at her to see her watching me. Her eyes were wide, both with shock and fear, but I ignored the emotions her tears stirred, focused on what I could do, which was help her find her brother.
When I had finished my task, I lifted my gaze to hers. “What. Happened?”
That seemed to cut through the emotional turmoil. “He came for me. Just like Ransom feared he would. I was supposed to be careful… Our past… It caught up to us.” She breathed in deep, seemed to swallow the tears. “He… He came for me. Just barged right in.”
“Who?”
“Jimmy.”
“Jimmy who?”
Braelyn shrugged, taking a deep breath. “I have to find my brother, make sure he’s okay.”
“I saw him a short time ago,” I assured her.
“Are you sure?”
I smiled. I couldn’t recall the last time someone had doubted me.
“I’m positive.”
“I did, too,” Trent said, moving closer. “I can go look for him if you’d like.”
“He left,” I told them both.
I decided to make an attempt to call him. Perhaps Ransom had simply made a detour and was unavailable. He could’ve very well found a submissive who struck his fancy and he was getting into character right now.
I highly doubted it, but it was a possibility.
After dialing Ransom’s number, I kept my eyes on Braelyn, listening patiently while it rang. When it went to voicemail, I hung up, shaking my head.
Her watery gaze leveled with mine, hung there for the longest time as though she was deciding whether she could trust me or not.
When she didn’t say anything, I figured now was a good time to get someone out there looking for Ransom. Rather than wait until tomorrow to get them safely to Sapphire Island, I would get things underway tonight.
Standing tall, I smoothed the front of my jacket, tugged on the cuffs, and dialed.
“Who are you calling?” Braelyn asked when I turned my back on her.
I didn’t respond to her, focusing on the woman who answered the phone. “Tiegan, I need you to find Ransom. Call Zion. Get him involved. Immediately. I want Ransom brought to the airstrip. There’s been a change in travel plans.”
“Of course. And I’ll have the jet prepped for you.”
I turned around, met Braelyn’s gaze as I added, “You can let Ransom know I have his sister with me.”
“Understood.”
“And Tiegan, tell Zion it’s a matter of life or death.”
There was a brief pause, as though she wanted to ask for details. Tiegan knew me better than most, which I suspect was why she answered with a simple, “I will.”
The call disconnected, and right before my eyes, Braelyn seemed to pull herself together. The tears dried up and in their place was a defiant gleam. Her shoulders squared, her chin tilting upward in a hint of temerity.
She would’ve launched into a tirade if it weren’t for Trent stepping forward, all but getting in my face.
“What the hell’s going on, Talon? Where’s Ransom?”
My knee-jerk reaction was to tell him to leave it alone, but I knew Trent wouldn’t let it go. He was like a dog with a bone. And considering Ransom had worked for him for a few years now, I figured he deserved some answers. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any.
“You’ll have to get Ransom to tell you that,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Right now, you just need to know that his life, as well as his sister’s, is in danger. I’m taking them to Sapphire Island.”
His eyes narrowed, his voice not much more than a harsh whisper when he said, “Why didn’t he tell me he had a sister?”
“Need-to-know, Trent. Which means this doesn’t leave this room. You can’t tell anyone. Their lives depend on it.”
“What about—?”
“Not even Zeke,” I interrupted, knowing where he was going. “No one. Not unless Ransom says you can.” I peered back at Braelyn briefly then met his hard, glittering gaze once more. “No one knows about her, and Ransom has a reason for that. It needs to remain that way.”
There was a pregnant pause and then he nodded. “Fine. But I expect an update from you. Whatever Ransom needs…”
Trent Ramsey was a man who cared about those who were close to him. And I could see the worry in his eyes. Plus, I suspected he didn’t trust me completely. Not many did, because I’d always been one who took care of things my own way, with little consideration to the consequences of others. That and I ensured I remained an enigma, even to those who thought they knew me well.
He stepped back, glanced at Braelyn again, his gaze lingering as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then, without a word, he turned and walked out of the room.
I took a deep breath, turned to face Braelyn, only to be hit with the full brunt of her anger.
“Tiegan? Tiegan Shaw?” Although a bit high-pitched, her voice was laced with steel. “She works for you?”
“She does.”
“And you’re aware of what’s going on with my brother?”
“I am.”
“So the job offer … that was your doing?”
Clearly she’d put all the pieces together, and she didn’t appear happy with the result. Ransom had warned me that would be the case, but I could admit, I was rather intrigued with how easily she’d come to that conclusion. Beauty and brains. A brilliant combination.
“Was it even real?” Braelyn bit out before I could respond. “The job offer? The interview?”
“Oh, it’s very real, Miss Bishop. And come tomorrow morning, you’ll get to see it all for yourself.”
“The hell I will.” She started toward the door.
“Miss Bishop. Stop,” I commanded, putting every ounce of dominance I possessed into my tone.
She immediately halted her retreat, and her obedience caused a familiar punch in my gut. Lust. Only this was mixed with something else, something more potent.
“This is nonnegotiable,” I informed her. “Your safety is my priority because it’s Ransom’s. Your brother trusts me to watch over you. It’s time for me to do that.”
When Braelyn finally turned, I saw the wariness in her eyes, but there was somethin
g else there. Trust, maybe?
It was then, that very moment in time, when I felt a sudden, life-altering shift within me.
Little did I know, but it would be only hours before the opportunity to explore it further presented itself again.
And when it finally did, I was waiting but not even close to being ready.
SIX
RANSOM
Absolute bullshit.
That’s what this was.
Me, going sixty miles an hour on a dark, narrow, winding road out in the fucking boondocks. All in an attempt to lose these jokers so I could weave my way back to my sister. I wasn’t even sure how I’d gotten to this point in one night. It damn sure hadn’t been my plan.
“Son of a bitch,” I bit out, taking a corner faster than my four-year-old Maxima could handle, the entire chassis groaning from the effort of remaining on the road.
Considering my luck was shit, I figured every turn I made and didn’t find black ice ready to launch me into a ditch was a good thing.
It didn’t seem to matter how fast I went—which was considerably slower than I preferred, taking into account the aforementioned black ice—the assholes were still hot on my tail and gaining. It was all I could do to steer, doing my best to put as much distance between me and Braelyn as I could, although what I wanted to do was grab my sister and make a run for it.
That was where my plan had gone tits up.
I should’ve told Talon tomorrow wasn’t soon enough. Something in my gut had told me my time had run out, but I had ignored it. It was only a matter of time before they caught me. And at the pace we were going, that matter of time equated to roughly five minutes. Ten tops.
I was almost positive they had some souped-up engine beneath the hood of that nondescript sedan.
The fuckers.
To make matters worse, there were more vehicles on the road tonight because of New Year’s. Not to mention, the people. They seemed to be every-fucking-where.
Owned (Office Intrigue Book 8) Page 7