Unraveling Him: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 3)

by Claire Kingsley

  He smiled again, his dimples puckering. “I’m surprised I didn’t give Gram a heart attack.”

  “I can only imagine.” I paused to eat another bite of eggs. “I wasn’t doing anything bad at Luke’s yesterday.”

  “Oh, I know. He knows it, too, even if he said something stupid and that’s why you’re here.”

  “Kind of.”

  Gavin put his fork down on his empty plate, his expression serious. “He loves you. You know that, right?”

  I glanced down. “I hope so.”

  “He does. Guarantee it. And you know what the good news is?”

  “What?”

  “You get to go home and have make-up sex.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  I laughed.

  But he wasn’t wrong.

  “Thanks, Gav.”

  “Anytime.” He flagged down the waitress and paid for both our breakfasts. “Normally I’d take a selfie with you and text it to Evan, but even I know when to back off. But this was a great first date. I hope I get another one.”

  Smiling, I shook my head. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “Sure. I gotta get to work. We’re just running some training exercises today, so I’ll be off in a few hours if you want to hang out. Maybe have date number two?”

  “You can’t resist, can you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Bye, Gavin.”

  He left and the waitress came back to refill my coffee. I stared into the dark liquid. I didn’t like fighting with Evan. It left me feeling like my insides were all twisted.

  But the specter of my father loomed over me like the shadow of a storm cloud.

  I hadn’t given Dad what he wanted—hadn’t gone home. And now the cops couldn’t find him, and he might be here in town.

  What was he going to do?

  I’d told Evan he wouldn’t hurt me, and I believed that. But would he hurt Evan? How far would he go to get to me?

  Scattered memories flitted through my head. Dad with bruised knuckles. Bits of conversation I wasn’t supposed to hear. Angry threats. Fear simmering in my belly. I’d seen things as a child that I hadn’t understood.

  As much as I hated admitting it, the truth was I didn’t know what he was capable of.

  Maybe I did need to go to Iowa. Not to start over. That plan had gone out the window a long time ago. Mad as I was, I loved Evan Bailey. I was never going to leave him. But he’d be safer if I wasn’t here. That would give the cops time to find my dad. And I doubted my dad would suspect I’d gone to my mom’s. That was why I’d planned to go there in the first place. It was almost like hiding in plain sight.

  I knew it wouldn’t end there. Someday, Dad could still hurt Evan to try to get to me. Maybe by then I could find a way to make peace with him.

  In the meantime, I needed to get Evan out of harm’s way.

  He wasn’t going to like it, but he had a car to finish. That Pontiac at that car show with the museum there to see it? It was going to change his life. He had to be there.

  More things to explain that Evan wouldn’t want to hear.

  It also meant I needed to suck it up and finally call my mom.

  I went out to my car and brought up her number. My stomach fluttered with nerves. It had been a while since I’d talked to her. That last conversation had gone fine. Short—she was always busy—but there hadn’t been too much tension.

  Here goes nothing. I hit send.

  “Hello? Fiona?”

  “Hi, Mom. Do you have a minute?”

  “Um…” She hesitated. “Sure, I guess so.”

  “If you’re busy—”

  “It’s fine. What do you need?”

  I took a deep breath. “I quit my job working for Dad.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah, but you know how he is. He’s not making it easy.”

  “Of course not. But Fiona, you know I don’t like talking about your father.”

  “Right, sorry. It’s just that things are a little crazy out here. I think it would be best if I got out of town for a little while.”

  “Well, then do that.”

  “I was hoping I might be able to come there.” I kept talking before she could interrupt. “He won’t know. He doesn’t know I talk to you at all. I told you I wouldn’t tell him, and I never have.”

  “Oh, Fiona. I can’t. We don’t have any extra room. And it would be too disruptive for Matt and Chelsea. We’re so busy with all their activities.”

  I stared at the dashboard, not really seeing anything. “It wouldn’t be for very long. And I’m used to not taking up much space. You’ll hardly know I’m there.”

  Her voice got quiet, like she was trying to keep anyone from hearing. “Why are you making this difficult?”

  “Mom, I’m just asking for a place to stay until things calm down here. My boyfriend’s shop got trashed and I’m worried about what’s happening with Dad.”

  “That’s why you can’t come here,” she hissed. “I can’t get involved with him again. I can’t risk my children.”

  Tears stung my eyes and a lump rose in my throat. Wasn’t I her child too?

  Apparently not. She’d left me behind and hadn’t looked back.

  “Sorry I bothered you,” I managed to choke out and ended the call.

  I dropped my phone in my purse and took a shaky breath. I’d thought—

  It didn’t matter what I’d thought. I’d been wrong.

  Trying to pull myself together, I swiped beneath my eyes and turned on my car. I didn’t care about our stupid argument. I needed Evan. I needed his arms around me, holding me tight. His lips on my skin, his deep voice in my ear.

  I drove out toward his place. Toward home.

  Home.

  I couldn’t leave, not even temporarily. Whatever happened, we’d face it together. That was how it needed to be. The only way it could be.

  Not far outside town, a car pulled up behind me, driving fast. Too fast. I figured they were going to pass me, so I nudged over to the right, hugging the shoulder.

  The car got closer, looming in my rear-view mirror. Too late, I realized they weren’t going to pass. They were going to—

  They clipped my back bumper. My heart lurched as everything spun. I clung to the steering wheel but I was spinning, spinning, spinning out of control. My tires tore through dirt and rock. Chaos. I couldn’t see where I was going.

  I came to an abrupt stop, my head smacking against the window. Hard. But it didn’t hurt.

  Why didn’t it hurt?

  A face appeared next to the car as my vision faded into a tunnel of black.

  39

  Evan

  I wandered out to the shop, looking for a distraction. I owed Fiona an apology—a big one—but she’d told me not to follow her. I wanted to respect that—give her some space if that was what she needed.

  I didn’t like it, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

  Usually it was easy to get lost in my work. Turn on some music, focus on the car. But I was too restless. Too edgy.

  My phone buzzed with a text. I whipped it out of my pocket, hoping it was Fiona. But it wasn’t.

  Gavin: Had breakfast with your girl earlier. She seemed sad. You better kiss and make up, dumbass, or she’s fair game.

  Me: Mind your own business.

  I glanced at his text again, the word earlier catching my eye. She’d been gone for a couple of hours, and he’d been with her earlier. Where was she now?

  She could be anywhere. Maybe with Grace or Cara. She liked to hang out with Gram, maybe she’d gone there.

  An unsettled feeling pricked at me. I really wanted to know where she was.

  I texted her, just to make sure she was okay.

  A minute went by. Then another. Then five. Why wasn’t she answering me? Even if she was mad, she’d answer to tell me she was fine, wouldn’t she?

  A few more minutes went by and she still didn’t reply, so I called.

  One ring. Two. Three. Then four. />
  Voicemail.

  What the fuck?

  I hit end. Was she ignoring me? Maybe. I decided to text Grace.

  Me: Have you seen Fiona today?

  Grace: No. Is everything okay?

  Me: I’m an idiot. We had an argument. She had breakfast in town with Gav, but she hasn’t come back and she’s not answering me.

  Grace: I’m off today so I don’t know if she went to the coffee shop. But she didn’t come here.

  Me: Can you text Cara? I don’t have her number.

  Grace: Of course. Hang on.

  I waited, pacing around the shop, growing increasingly agitated.

  Grace: Cara hasn’t seen her. She wants to know if we need to form a search party.

  Me: Not yet. I’m sure she’s fine. I just feel shitty.

  Grace: Arguments will do that. If I see her, I’ll tell her you’re ready to grovel.

  Me: Thanks.

  I brought up Gram’s number and hit send. She answered on the third ring.

  “Hi, Wolf. Everything all right?”

  “Sort of. Is Fiona there?”

  “No, she’s not here.”

  “Have you seen her at all today?”

  “I haven’t. Should I be worried?”

  I took a breath. I didn’t want to freak her out. “Probably not. We argued and she left. Gavin saw her a little bit ago. I’m just…”

  “Worried about her and feeling rotten?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry, Wolf. If she comes here, I’ll make sure she calls you. And if you see her first, let me know.”

  “I will. Thanks, Gram.”

  I ended the call. Fiona still hadn’t answered my text.

  What the hell? Where was she?

  Sasquatch brushed past me, heading for the door. Either my mood was working him up, or his instincts were flaring as badly as mine.

  She wasn’t just mad at me. Something was wrong. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did.

  “Let’s go find her.”

  I went over to the house to grab the keys to my Camaro. I couldn’t take Sasquatch on the bike, and I wanted to bring him.

  A car pulled up outside. I almost breathed out a sigh of relief, but my dog started barking.

  He didn’t bark at Fiona. He never had.

  “Stay,” I commanded so he wouldn’t rush out, and went to the front door.

  A black sedan was parked out front. It wasn’t Fiona’s car. And it wasn’t Fiona.

  It was her fucking father.

  A hit of anger flared through my veins and I clenched my teeth. I checked the passenger seat, but he didn’t have her. She wasn’t in the back, either.

  Shane Gallagher flew out of the car and slammed the door shut. “Where is she?”

  “What? That’s what I was about to ask you.”

  He looked rough. Disheveled clothes. Circles under his eyes. “She’s not here?”

  “No, what the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Shit.” He stopped several feet away from me. “When was the last time you saw her?”

  A wave of fear ripped through me. Something was definitely wrong. “This morning.”

  “Fuck. I was hoping they were lying.”

  “Who?”

  “They took her. They took her to get to me.”

  I reached for my phone.

  “Don’t,” he shouted, holding up a hand. “No cops. They’ll kill her.”

  I froze, every muscle in my body tightening. “Gallagher, you need to level with me right now. What the fuck is going on?”

  “It’s not my fault. I needed money and I got in over my head.”

  “Got in over your head with who?”

  He looked away for a moment and let out a breath. “There’s a guy I used to work with back in the day, Felix Orman. Stealing cars, parting them out. No one got hurt. Cops broke it up, but he and I avoided charges. After that, I went legit. But last year I got into some debt and not with a bank, if you know what I mean.”

  “Loan sharks.”

  “These guys were serious, I needed to pay them off quick. So I called Felix. He set me up with some jobs, I helped him move some merchandise, no big deal.”

  “What the fuck does this have to do with Fiona?”

  “Felix is into more than stealing cars. A lot more. I didn’t want to know about his other shit. I didn’t want anything to do with it. I just wanted to pay off those assholes before they came after me and broke my kneecaps.” He rubbed his jaw. “But once you’re in with these guys, it’s hard to get out. I did what he wanted, but it wasn’t enough. I know too much. And now he fucking wants me dead.”

  I took a step closer. “This Felix guy has her? How do you know?”

  “He called. I’ve been hiding out nearby. I didn’t think he knew where I was.”

  “You led them right to her, didn’t you? Jesus, Gallagher, what the fuck? Was it you who trashed my shop, or was that them too?”

  “That wasn’t me,” he said. “It was them, trying to send a message. Scare me by going after my daughter. He doesn’t give a shit about her. He just wants to get to me. Wants to make an example out of me.”

  I was a breath away from losing my temper. From pinning this fucker to the ground and beating his face to a pulp.

  But that wouldn’t get Fiona back. If he was telling the truth, and someone had her, I had to stay calm.

  The red tinge receded from my vision and my head cleared. “‘He wants to make an example’—what does that mean? What does he want you to do?”

  “Meet him. Exchange me for her. Don’t get your hopes up. He won’t let her go.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Was he saying that so I wouldn’t make him do it? Or because he knew? “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know. He gave me a number. I’m supposed to text him back before three. Then he’ll tell me where to meet him. And he said no cops. They get a whiff of a uniform, they’ll kill her.”

  My mind raced with questions. Obstacles. I was way out of my depth here and Fiona’s life was on the line.

  But she was my woman. I wasn’t going to let them hurt her.

  I leveled Gallagher with a hard stare and my voice was ice cold. “This is your fault. I don’t care if I have to tie you up, gag you, and drop you off on this piece of shit’s front porch, I’m going to get Fiona back. And if they hurt her, if they so much as touch her, you’re going to pay for it.” I stepped closer and he flinched back. “Now you’re going to cooperate with me or the first thing I’ll do is unleash my dog on you. And that won’t be the worst thing that happens to you today. Understood?”

  Wordlessly, he nodded.

  “Good. Now get in the fucking car.”

  “Where are we going?”

  I didn’t answer. Just glared at him again until he went to the passenger side.

  We were going to get help. I didn’t like relying on anyone, but Fiona was too important—she was everything. I couldn’t do this alone.

  40

  Fiona

  My head throbbed, the pain yanking me back to consciousness. Nausea roiled through my stomach and I tasted bile on the back of my tongue. It was hard to think. What had happened?

  I’d been driving. My car spun off the road. Why? Someone had hit me from behind.

  A face. There’d been a face in the window.

  Oh my god, where was I?

  Carefully, I cracked an eye open and awareness began to return to the rest of my body. I was lying on my side, on the ground. Dirt, not a floor. It was dark and cold. As if my brain had just registered the temperature, I started to shiver. My feet were bare and my hands… tied up?

  My heart raced, fear almost consuming me. Something bound my wrists and ankles. I was afraid to move, afraid to make a sound.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I took slow breaths, trying to stay calm. Panicking would only make things worse.

  There was a noise behind me, a scrape of something against dirt. A shoe? Whatever it was, I had to assume I wasn’t
alone. Which made sense. If someone had gone to all the trouble to run me off the road, kidnap me, tie me up, and put me… wherever this was, they wouldn’t leave me alone. Someone would be standing guard.

  Who had done this? It couldn’t be my dad, could it? Was he that crazy?

  I didn’t think so. My father was many things—few of them good—but I didn’t think he was a man who’d kidnap his own daughter.

  Then again, who else would have?

  Who and why aside, I needed to get out of here. Of course, I was bound hand and foot, probably guarded, and I had no idea where I was or how long I’d been unconscious. I could be anywhere.

  This wasn’t exactly looking good. Even my eternal optimism was having a hard time finding the silver lining here.

  Breathe, Fiona. Just breathe. And think.

  I opened my eyes again and waited for them to adjust to the dim light. I was definitely on the ground, but it didn’t look like open air. It smelled dusty, like a gravel road on a windy day, and there was a light source behind me, illuminating rough walls. Stone and dirt? Was this a cave? Trying not to move my head too much, I looked up. There was a dark ceiling above me, supported by thick timbers. So not a cave—not a natural one, at least.

  A horrifying thought hit me, freezing my breath in my lungs. Had they gotten to Evan?

  The pain of my pounding head was nothing compared to the anguish that tore through me. What if they’d hurt him? What if they’d done worse?

  Would I ever see him again?

  Did he know that I loved him?

  No, this was not how we ended. We’d only just found each other. We’d barely begun. I refused to believe our last moments together were tainted with anger. I was going to get out of here and he was going to be fine.

  There was my trusty optimism, right when I needed it.

  I decided I had to risk moving a little more to see what I was dealing with. Slowly, I rolled onto my back and turned my head.

  Yep. I was being guarded.

  And he had a gun.

  Because of course he did.

  This was nothing like the movies. I wasn’t a badass secret agent or a plucky journalist ready to sass and ass-kick her way out of danger. I was just a girl, tied up on the ground, looking at a scary man with a gun. My heart raced, my body shivered, and all I really wanted to do was curl up in a ball, cover my head, and cry.