Crazy Nights (The Barrington Billionaires Book 3)

by Danielle Stewart

  “No problem,” Evie said absentmindedly. She had no place to be anyway. Who cares that she was stuck on the side of the road for a half hour. “Thank you, Pete.”

  “Mr. Kalling said I should wait with you and take you to the airport once you had your things,” Pete said quietly as they pulled up to the hotel. “The jet will be ready for you.”

  “He did?” she asked, blinking away the image of Emmitt that was clouding her eyes. She was being a fool. There was no path forward for them. He no longer wanted her here. It wasn’t just something he said in anger; it was the instructions he left. Get this girl out of the state.

  “How long do I have?” she asked, clearing her throat. “I still have to pack.”

  “As long as you need miss. I’m paid through tomorrow morning. Makes no difference to me how long you take.” The driver pulled off his cap and loosened his tie, getting ready for a substantial break.

  “I’ll get my things. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

  “Yes miss,” he said, reaching back and handing her a business card with a phone number on it. The rain started to pour down, thudding hard on the metal roof of the car. She grabbed Emmitt’s sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. It was long enough to be a dress on her and the hood came down over her eyes as she tucked her hair back into it.

  As she slipped out of the car she went over every word he’d said to her, desperate to find something redeemable, something worth staying for. But all Emmitt could think of was all the people in the world ready and waiting to hurt his family. See them before they see you. Trust no one. It all sounded paranoid to her. Sure his father was mixed up with very bad guys, but a man like Emmitt, with the amount of money his family had, could surely find a way to help if he wanted to.

  “She left the house forty minutes ago. She should be here.” There was a tall man, in a suit, leaning in and talking to a second man as Evie passed. It caught her attention, considering they looked completely out of place, standing in the rain when anyone else would duck into the hotel for cover from the storm.

  Evie pulled the hood down tighter on her head and bent down pretending to tie her shoe.

  “The car hasn’t arrived yet. I’ve got the plate and the model number. It’s not here,” the second man said, turning the screen of his phone, apparently trying to shut the first man up. “Maybe someone tipped her off. We were supposed to pick her up at the exact same time we snatched the daughter and her kids. That’s what Marc said.”

  “I know what Marc said, but the other girl and her kids are already handled. We’re going to look like real fuck-ups if we don’t get this girl too.”

  “Why do we need all of them? The mom is going to give up the money if she knows her kid and grandkids are in danger. Why do we need this other chick?”

  “We don’t,” the first man growled. She was in the bar today, and Marc heard there was some commotion. He rolled back the footage on the security tapes. He figured out the guy was a Kalling and this girl was his. He liked her look. He wants her too.”

  Evie was certain now the men where there for her.

  “How much longer are we supposed to wait?”

  “Ten more minutes,” he said, checking his watch. “If the car hasn’t pulled up by then we’ll head back to the meet-up point. Marc’s going to be pissed, but he’s got enough collateral to get the old man to pay up.”

  “He must owe a ton if Marc’s willing to kidnap kids to put pressure on him, rather than just getting rid of him.”

  “Two hundred grand,” the man grunted through his pursed lips as he tried to light a damp cigarette. Evie rose and moved for the front door of the hotel, trying desperately to hear the last few words that passed between the two men. “He’ll use the kids as leverage and shit, have their mother pay up, and then off the old man. Can’t get money from a dead guy. Got to be smart about this shit.”

  As the door closed behind her, the buzz of the lobby took over, and her thudding heart banged in her chest. She had to do something. She had to tell Emmitt what was going on. Racing toward a quiet corner of the lobby she kept her eyes locked on the two men standing out front as she dialed Emmitt’s number. Voice Mail.

  She tried twice more before accepting his phone was likely off. It was up to her to do something.

  Chapter 24

  “Calm down,” his mother begged as she put her body between her son and her ex-husband. “I know you’re angry for the things he’s done, but that’s no reason to hurt him.”

  Charles stood there holding the bridge of his bleeding nose. Emmitt felt too limited by his mother’s presence to throw any punches. So he did the next best thing. He launched a vase and his own cell phone at the man’s head. Both making good contact and then shattering to pieces on the floor.

  “Get the fuck out,” Emmitt boomed.

  “Oh Emmitt, your language,” his mother gasped, putting a tired hand up to her head. “Don’t be like this.”

  “Azeela is not going to let you out of whatever debt you have. And no one in this family is going to give you the money. Go accept your fate. Go get your knuckles and your knees broken, but do it somewhere else.”

  “He’s not gambling,” his mother chirped as though maybe he hadn’t heard this part.

  “I’m clean,” Charles confirmed. “Not to say I’m free and clear of my debts, but I’m not gambling anymore. I’m done. I’ve been done. Can we maybe talk in private? I don’t think your mother needs to see all this. She’s been through enough.”

  “You’ve put her through most of it,” Emmitt pointed out accusingly.

  “And from what I hear you’ve put her through the rest of it. So why don’t you and I go outside and talk this out?”

  “Her standing between us is the only thing keeping you alive right now. You don’t want to go outside with me. Trust me on that.”

  “We’re at an impasse,” Charles said calmly. “I can understand that. We’re taught to expect all of this in Gamblers Anonymous. It’s all part of the process. But your sister is willing to at least listen. Your mother is as well.”

  “How about Mathew? You try him?” Emmitt asked.

  “I haven’t reached him yet,” Charles said flatly, using his sleeve to mop up the rest of the blood that seemed to have stopped flowing.

  “Because you have tried him too many times before, and he knows better than to give you a dime. You’re going after the two people who actually still hold out hope for you. You’re using them.”

  “You have it all wrong,” Charles argued. “If you’re this angry why don’t you just go? Let me talk with your mother.”

  “There will never be another day in your life where you see my mother without me breathing over your shoulder ready to snap your neck. That’s a promise.”

  “Emmitt,” his mother pleaded, now close to tears. “I’ve called Harlan to come over. We’re going to talk this out as a family. If you want to get Mathew on the phone you can. But we are not just dismissing this. I’m not going to give up on a chance to be a family again.” Evie’s words echoed in his head, and he grew angrier. This hopefulness was dangerous.

  “Call Mathew then,” Emmitt said, moving out of the entryway and toward the main sitting room. He planted his ass on the couch, and his father came in a few seconds later.

  “Your mother will get Mathew on the phone,” Charles said, looking into the hall clearly not wanting to be alone with Emmitt.

  “I know you are in deep with Azeela, and I know what you’re trying to do here. It’s not going to work. You’re playing the long game, and you don’t have that kind of time. I had it all wrong.”

  “Not like you to admit it,” Charles said, finally settling into a chair across from Emmitt but still looking ready to run if the situation called for it.

  “Yeah, I figured you were going to hit Harlan up for a few thousand bucks then disappear back into whatever hole you had crawled out of. But you’re in deep with some pretty bad dudes. So you’re trying to play the long game, but be
lieve me, it won’t work. You thought you’d worm your way back into their lives, gain their trust, and then find a way to get your money. You don’t have time. Azeela will come collect before you can get anything out of Harlan or Mom. Especially with me around.”

  Charles cleared his throat nervously, and in that moment Emmitt knew he’d gotten it right.

  “Now that we’re both on the same page,” Emmitt said, leaning in threateningly, “you need to go. You won’t find your answer here. Do something honorable for the first time in your life and spare them.”

  “You’ve been so good and honorable in my absence?” Charles looked like a cornered animal ready to strike.

  “I don’t fall for your shit.” Emmitt laughed humorlessly. “Mind games don’t work on me. I look like a goddamn saint compared to you. It changes nothing. You are fucked, and you are not taking them down with you.”

  “Mathew didn’t pick up,” his mother said solemnly as she shuffled in to the sitting room and flipped the light switch on and off three times. Emmitt had the urge to reply to his father’s look of concern. He wanted to tell him he did this to her. “I couldn’t get Harlan on the phone either.”

  “When was she supposed to be here?” Emmitt asked, reaching for his phone and remembering it had bounced off his father’s nose and it now was a smashed mess on the floor.

  “She was going to come right from the recital,” his mother said, sounding worried.

  “It ended an hour and a half ago,” Emmitt said, glaring suspiciously at his father. “You were with them.”

  “I left right after the girls finished their routine. I wanted some time alone with your mother.”

  His words grated on Emmitt but not more than the nagging worry about his sister’s whereabouts. “Maybe she went home first,” he thought aloud.

  “No,” his mother interrupted. “No she wouldn’t have. After every recital they come right here so I can see them in their outfits and take pictures. They do a little bit of their routine for me, too.”

  Emmitt thought back to his sister’s complaint about not having the family support she needed. Having to come here after each recital and shrink her world down to the space their mother can be comfortable in would be suffocating and disappointing. “Call her again.”

  “I did three times already and sent her a text message. I’m worried now. Do you think she’s all right?” She paced the room nervously, tugging one of her curls in that frantic way she always did.

  “Calm down, Mom,” Emmitt insisted, standing and doing what he always did when she started to spiral, absolutely nothing. He was his worst in these moments. Harlan knew how to comfort. Mathew knew how to distract. Emmitt only knew how to leave. “I’ll go look for her. I’ll check her house and the recital hall and the route she’d have taken here. It’ll be all right.”

  Chapter 25

  Evie's heart bumped like a runaway marching band as she dialed the number on the business card the driver had handed her.

  "Ready, miss?" the driver asked, sounding as though he'd just woken from a nap.

  "Listen closely," she said in a hushed voice, still staring through the rain-soaked glass doors of the hotel lobby at the men lurking, waiting for her. "The two men standing behind your car are criminals. They are here to abduct me."

  "Go to your room," he ordered more dominantly than she thought him capable. "I will call the police."

  "No," she protested loudly and then hushed her voice as heads in the lobby spun her way. "We need to follow them. They've taken Emmitt's sister and nieces hostage for ransom. They're leaving any minute, and we need to follow them."

  "This isn't the movies, sweetie." The driver laughed nervously. "I'm not getting mixed up with this."

  "Then get out of the car," she demanded. "I'm coming out in ten seconds. If you don't plan on driving, get out of the car."

  "I have to advise against this. I'm sure if Mr. Kalling knew your plan he'd want me to stop you. It doesn't sound safe."

  "Emmitt isn't picking up his phone. The one chance to follow these guys back to where his sister is leaving any minute. If you know him at all, do you really want to have to explain to him that you let them slip away? What do you think he'd do about that? Especially if something happens to his family?"

  "Fine," he agreed reluctantly. "Take the car."

  "Once I leave, I need you to make your way back to the house and tell Emmitt what's going on. His phone isn't working."

  "Without a car?"

  She didn't bother answering. He was a grown man; he’d figure something out. Disconnecting the call, she tugged the hood back over her head and drew in a deep breath. Pulling open the door she moved quickly toward the car, the rain soaking her as it pounded down. A few stray words from the men let her know their patience was thin, and they were ready to leave.

  Her driver was out of the car, his collar pulled up to try to block as much rain as possible. "You’re crazy," he said in a warning tone.

  "Just get back to the house and tell Emmitt what's going on. He can track my phone and find me."

  "They're going," he said, gesturing with a nod to the men hopping into their car. "Don't do anything stupid."

  "It feels too late for that." She sighed as she closed the door and turned the engine on. The large black sedan pulled ahead of her, and she had one last chance to back out. Surely the police would be able to find Harlan. Did she really need to do this?

  "Come on," she demanded of herself. "You have to."

  She pulled the car out and tightened her shaking hand on the steering wheel. This was the best bad idea she'd ever had.

  Chapter 26

  Emmitt had raced back and forth between Harlan's house, the recital hall, and anywhere else he could think of looking for them. Though it pained him to do it, he called the local hospitals to see if anyone matching her description had been in an accident. He was relieved to hear that wasn't the case, but he still couldn't find any sign of them.

  Pulling back into his mom’s driveway, he saw an unfamiliar car and his instincts were buzzing in alarm. He hopped from the car as he put it in gear and made his way quickly toward the unfamiliar car. "Fred?" Emmitt asked, wondering why the driver he sent Evie off with was back.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Mr. Kalling, we have a situation." The nervousness in his voice made the hair on the back of Emmitt’s neck stand up. He pulled Fred into the house and out of the rain. When he began to recount the situation, Emmitt felt his blood start to boil.

  "Get me a computer," Emmitt ordered as he plowed into the sitting room and closed in on his father. Before anyone could stop him his hand was closing around his father's throat.

  "Emmitt!" his mother shrieked.

  "They have Harlan and the girls. How much do you owe them?" His father gasped for air as he clawed at Emmitt’s hand. "How much?"

  His father raised two fingers and attempted to speak, but nothing came out. Emmitt loosened his grip slightly. "Twenty thousand?" he asked furiously.

  "Two hundred thousand," his father sputtered out.

  "What?" Emmitt’s mother breathed out as she lost her balance slightly. "You said . . ." Her words trailed off. "Harlan?"

  "Get me a damn computer so I can track Evie’s phone. She's following some guys back to where Harlan is."

  "We need to call the police," his mother said as she scurried to grab a laptop. "They'll help."

  "They won't. The only thing that will keep the girls from getting hurt is the money and him." Emmitt pointed at his father as he stepped back. He ground his fist into his palm and wished it was his father’s face. “You knew. This was the plan, wasn’t it?”

  “No,” he croaked out, one hand rubbing his throat. “I didn’t know. I was going to ask for the money. I was going to get it from your mother. I didn’t plan this.”

  “You were?” she asked, a note of sheer betrayal in her voice. “You were going to ask me for two hundred thousand dollars. You think I’d have given you that much mo
ney?”

  “Of course he knows you wouldn’t,” Emmitt barked as he flipped open the laptop and pulled up the tracking program. “You wouldn’t give him that kind of money unless you had a reason. Like the fact that Harlan and the girls were in danger. Then there would be no amount of money you wouldn’t give.” He typed frantically. “Give me your phone, Mom.”

  She handed it over, and the shake in her arm made his scorching rage begin to boil over. “You son of a bitch. Get up,” he demanded, pointing again at his father. “You’re coming with me.” After a few rings his brother picked up. “Mathew, we have a problem. I need two hundred thousand dollars in cash now. What can you do?”

  “What the fuck?” Mathew asked, groggy and annoyed. “Why do you—?”

  “That’s what your father owes the mafia, who is holding your sister and nieces for ransom. I need the cash.”

  “The bastard,” Mathew growled. “I’ve got a guy who can get you the cash. I have a contact at the FBI. I’ll get him to Mom’s house.”

  “I’m not waiting,” Emmitt asserted. “Send your guy. He can do what he wants, but I’ll have them back by then. Just get me the money.”

  “What about Dad?” Mathew asked. “Are you going to—?”

  “Yes,” Emmitt cut in, sparing his brother from having to say what he was thinking. This was where Emmitt always fit into the equation. The dirty work. The unpleasant dirty jobs no one wanted to discuss always fell on his shoulders and somehow he found a way to carry them. “This was his plan, to put our sister and the girls in danger. He made his bed, let them bury him in it. He’s coming with me, and I’ll gladly trade him and the money for Harlan.”

  “Is there another way?” Mathew asked halfheartedly. “If you wait for my contact from the FBI—”

  “If I wait for your contact, they’ll blow this up. They’ll have SWAT rolling up to Azeela’s place, and our family will get caught in the crossfire. I can handle this, quietly and quickly. If the cost for that is your money and our father, I’m willing to pay. Are you?”