by Eden Summers
“I want to believe you.” She unclasps her belt. “But once bitten and all that.”
“Trust me, I feel the same when it comes to you walking out on me.” It’s a low blow that I punctuate with the close of my door.
Our games might be her trigger but we both participated in those. She attempted to trick me just as much as I did with her.
“Don’t hold your breath for an apology.” She climbs from the car. “I don’t regret the way things ended.”
I huff out a laugh and start for the door leading inside. “That’s the thing, Nis; nothing ended. It never will.”
I don’t look back as I enter the house. I force Anissa from my mind with each step toward the chatter in the living room and find everyone still sitting on the sofas, awaiting our return.
The only person who doesn’t sit at attention at the sight of me is Decker who keeps his attention on the laptop resting on his thighs, his fingers dancing over the keys.
“Who’s Emmanuel Costa?” Keira pushes to her feet. “Does he have anything to do with the abduction?”
I don’t acknowledge her, don’t even flinch as I approach my other sister, crouching before Layla to meet her watery gaze.
For a second, she takes me in, her eyes searching mine with apprehension. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” She sucks in a breath. “He’s the one who took her, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know.” I clasp her hands as she draws in one weary inhale after another. “I don’t think so.”
“What is it then? What happened? Who is he?”
“Why are we looking into him?” Benji adds from beside her.
“He called to tell me he knows where the kids are. That they’re okay and we can go get them.”
Her face alights with hope. Misguided, punishing hope.
“Lay.” I squeeze her fingers. “Before you start thanking your lucky stars, I’m not sure how good this news is.”
Anissa walks into the room as Layla’s hope turns to confusion. “Why?”
“Because it’s too easy.” I don’t want to worry her, yet false expectations are dangerous. “This doesn’t feel right. This guy led me to believe this will be an easy resolution. Without a ransom or threats. And maybe that might be the case. But…” I shrug. “You know that’s not how these things work.”
Her lower lip trembles, the unshed tears building in her eyes.
“Why does his name sound familiar?” Benji asks. “Who is he?”
“A heavyweight in the fashion industry by the looks of it.” Decker keeps tapping at his keyboard. “Does the brand Alleya mean anything to you guys?”
“Jesus Christ,” Anissa murmurs from the far corner of the room.
“I had one of their handbags a few years ago.” Keira pushes to her feet. “Dad gave it to me for my birthday.”
“That’s the other thing.” I cringe. “He’s friends with Luther. Or was at one point.”
“Tell me what this means.” Layla clings tight to my hands. “Why is he involved in any of this?”
“That’s what I want to know, too. Robert had to have some sort of familiarity with this guy of Emmanuel’s to reach out to him for help. Which means it’s likely they know about our father’s unsavory business ventures.”
Keira shakes her head. “But why would a successful businessman risk any sort of association with our father if he knew?”
“Some of the most high-profile people in the world have maintained relationships with suspected pedophiles well after rumors turned into a conviction,” Anissa murmurs. “It’s either about power or perverted proclivities.”
“Show me a photo,” Penny demands. “Let me see who this man is.”
I release Layla’s hands and raise to my full height to take a look at Decker.
He taps a few more times on his keypad, scrolls, then turns the screen to face us. “I’m not sure how recent this image is. It’s on his company website.”
The smiling face jogs through my childhood memories. He holds a friendly expression full of laugh lines and kind eyes, his Lego-man hair more grey than black as he sits behind an expensive wooden desk in a tailored suit.
“I’ve seen him before.” Keira points at the laptop. “Back when Mom was alive.”
I ignore the thought of my mother, determined not to fall into that well of suffering, and nod. “I remember him, too.”
There are no specific instances of familiarity. No recollection of good or bad. But I know him.
“Penny?” I switch my focus to her. “How about you? Have you seen him before?”
Did she see him in Greece while my father held her prisoner?
She shakes her head and lowers her gaze. “No. Not at all.”
At least that’s a start. Emmanuel may not have any connection to the sex trade at all.
“Please, Cole.” Layla inches to the edge of the sofa and reclaims my hand. “We need to get the kids back straight away. Where do we have to go? Where are they?”
“Sacramento,” I announce the location quickly, ripping off the Band-Aid.
Someone gasps. Either Sarah or Keira. I don’t know. But the sound is far better than the crumpling of Layla’s face.
“Sacramento?” she whispers. “Some monster has driven my baby all the way to Sacramento?”
“Yes. But I’m told they’re unharmed.” The weak platitude leaves a bitter aftertaste on my tongue.
“Emmanuel agreed to send a photo as proof of life,” Anissa adds. “That’s a good sign.”
I nod, thankful for the reminder.
“When?” Hunt leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “If he’s as innocent as he says, then we should be able to track information from the digital footprint.” He looks at Decker for confirmation. “Right?”
“Right.” Decker turns the laptop back to face him. “If he’s got nothing to hide, then he shouldn’t go to the effort of scrubbing the information from the image. And then we can get an exact timestamp of when it was taken along with a GPS location. It’s not a lot to go on, but it’s better than nothing.”
It still feels like nothing to me.
An address won’t tell us what kind of man he is.
A timestamp won’t prove whether he’s abused the children or not.
“What do you think?” Layla turns her attention to Anissa, still standing across the room, doing her best not to intrude. “Did you hear the conversation? What do you think of this man?”
Nissa looks at me, her lips parted as if waiting for permission.
“It’s okay.” I nod. “Tell her what you think.”
She walks closer, swallowing before perching herself on the armrest of Layla’s sofa to give her a sad smile. “Yes, I heard the conversation, and I think Cole is right. Even though Emmanuel sounds like a positive influence on the situation, we still haven’t received the proof. He hasn’t sent the photo yet, and we don’t even have his cell number because the connection was private. It’s too early to tell what we’re up against.”
Her agreement stirs something inside me. Not pride. But similar.
It’s not often this independent woman agrees with me. It’s even less common to have her attempting to soothe one of my family members.
“Do you think they’re still alive?” Penny asks her.
“Yes. Although this guy was remorseful for what has happened, he also had an air of confidence. There were no pauses for contemplation or stutters where he may have been lying. He either believes what he’s saying or he’s done this too many times to feel fear.” She meets my gaze. “My guess is the former. Especially with him being the man behind a brand as big as Alleya. I just wouldn’t be betting anyone’s life on a seamless outcome.”
“I’d say the odds are pretty good.” Decker turns his laptop to face the room again, displaying a Wikipedia page. “This guy is seriously wealthy. I’m talking balls-deep, filthy-rich territory. Anything he could possibly get out of us would be pocket change to him. Which means this could be exactly what he told you
—just an easy handover.”
I’m still not convinced. Men who know my father don’t do business above board.
“It’s possible. I’m just not sure if it’s probable.” Anissa pushes from the armrest. “We can be hopeful, though, as long as we remain cautious.”
The room falls quiet. The mental musings of everyone are loud through the silence while Benji stares at me, questioning. Begging. Fucking pleading for more information.
All I see when I look at him now is a traitor.
A conniving, backstabbing, heartbroken traitor.
He’s lucky he’s still breathing.
“So, what’s the plan?” Hunter stalks for the kitchen. “How many of us are going to Sacramento?”
Layla glances at me in panic. “I want to be there.”
“I’m coming, too.” Keira’s hands drop to her sides.
They both stare at me in anticipation, waiting for me to deny them. “You can both come. But you’ll do as I say the entire time. I don’t want you anywhere near this guy. You’ll have to be satisfied with being in the same city, not the same location.”
They nod.
“We’re all going,” Hunter states from the kitchen, his face in my fridge. “If this is a trap, every one of us needs to have your back.”
“I have to be there, too.” Penny’s eyes plead with me. “I want to be close for Tobias.”
“I agree.” Luca slides deeper into his seat, his expression lax with exhaustion as he leans against the headrest. “There’s no way any of us are staying behind.”
That’s where he’s wrong. Everyone else can tag along, but not him. “You’re staying.”
He straightens. “Me? Why?”
“From what I’m told, you’ve got a fucking bleed on the brain. You’re not getting in a jet.”
“Like hell I’m not.”
Penny glances from me to Luca and back again, her mouth opening in panic. “Then we’ll drive. It can’t be that far. By the time everyone gets to the airport, we could already be well on our way.” She pushes to her feet. “We can meet you there.”
“It’s a fucking long drive. And Luca’s in no shape to do it.” Hunt snaps the fridge door shut and returns to the group. “From the look of him, he needs about a month’s worth of rest and a saline drip. Driving nine hours is the last thing he should be doing.”
“I can handle it.” Luca scowls. “I’ve had more sleep in the last twenty-four than any of you.”
“Nine hours?” Layla’s panic increases. “Won’t we already be on our way home with Stella by then?”
Benji grabs her hand and she falls silent with the touch.
“Yes.” I keep my tone confident despite the lack of emotion to back it up. “It’s a waste of time to drive.”
“It’s a waste of time sitting here with my thumb up my ass while you guys go without me.” Luca pins me with a stare. “I’m driving. You can take Pen in the jet. And if everything is squared away before I arrive, I’ll just turn around and come back. As soon as I know the kids are safe, I can find a hotel and rest.”
“I’m not letting you drive on your own.” Penny pushes to her feet. “I’ll help. We can take shifts.”
“Says the woman who not only doesn’t have a license, but is legally dead as far as the cops are concerned.” Luca winces as he moves to stand beside her. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Do you even have a car?” Decker asks.
“Shit.” Luca meets my gaze, his lips kicking in a faint smile. “Can we take the Porsche?”
“Don’t push your luck.” I jerk my head toward the garage. “Use the Escalade.”
He nods and leads Penny to the far hall. “I’ll go home first and pack supplies. Keep us posted on any developments.”
“Now what?” Keira asks. “What do we do?”
“Get ready to fly,” is the only response I have. This is new territory. The fragility of having children targeted doesn’t sit well with me. The constant nausea is growing old.
“What do you mean?” Layla stands, Benji following close behind. “What do we need to pack? What should I take?”
I don’t know. I have no fucking clue what my sister should bring.
“Pack some things for Stella,” Anissa answers for me. “A change of clothes. A hairbrush. Maybe even her pillow or a plush toy so she has something familiar to cuddle on the flight home.”
God, she’s a fucking angel. A spiteful warrior of an angel, but heaven-sent nonetheless.
“Maybe even some comfort food,” she adds. “Bring her favorite packet of crisps or candy. It’s usually the little things that help life return to normal.”
Layla glances at me for confirmation.
“You need to hurry.” I jerk my chin at her. “The jet won’t take long to get on the flight schedule. I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.”
“What about us?” Hunter grates. “What are we packing for?”
I pause a second, not wanting my sisters to be privy to my thoughts. But it’s another Band-Aid that needs to be ripped off. If they’re tagging along, I can’t hide them behind a shield of pretense forever. I don’t have the disposable energy.
I start for the hall leading to my bedroom. “We plan for war and pack accordingly.”
13
Cole
It takes two hours to get in the air.
Benji and Layla are seated at the front of the cabin facing Decker and Keira across the small serving table. Hunter and Sarah are in the plush leather seats behind them, while Nissa and I sit toward the back of the jet, side by side along the right wall.
The aircraft has barely leveled out after takeoff when my cell vibrates with a text image from a private number.
I cradle the device in my hand for long moments, staring at Tobias and Stella asleep in what looks to be the back seat of an old sedan.
They seem peaceful. Unharmed. Their faces are free from bruises or scratches. But the fact they’ve slept through their abduction in the middle of the day speaks highly of the amount of sedatives coursing through their systems.
The children are fine. We have moved them into our home and placed them together in a spare room. They’re still resting peacefully. I will contact you again once they wake. Emmanuel.
The message aligns with the old man’s MO—kind, placating. Yet no phone number is given. My hands are tied in a one-sided conversation.
More than an hour later, I stare out the window across the cabin of the jet, still seeing nothing but those sleeping faces.
The carelessness toward their lives consumes me.
The danger.
I’m livid at the neglect.
“We’ll get them home safely.” Nissa fidgets in her chair, playing with the recline. “The continued communication is a good start.”
“You don’t believe that.” I keep my voice low, not wanting anyone to overhear. “You haven’t relaxed in the slightest since I received that text.”
I didn’t show the photo to anyone else. I kept it between us, not wanting to add fuel to the hysteria, and I’ll continue to do so for as long as I can.
“That’s nothing new. I haven’t relaxed since you banged down my apartment door two days ago.”
It’s another lie. The image put her on edge, and I’ve been talking myself out of questioning her about it, not wanting to face whatever hint she’s picked up on that I missed. But I can’t ignore it any longer.
“Tell me what you see.” I retrieve my cell from my suit jacket and bring the image back on screen. “What have I missed?”
“Nothing.” She doesn’t look at the device.
“Nothing?” I hold it higher, breaching her line of sight. “You see nothing?”
She cringes, her brows pulling tight. “Put it away.”
“Why? I thought you were meant to be helping.”
“I am.” She shoots me a glance. “Keeping a level head is imperative. We need to remain positive.”
I lean onto our joined armrest
and she stiffens. “I’m not positive in the slightest. And it doesn’t take a genius to figure you aren’t either. I know you, little fox, and there’s something in this picture you’re not telling me.”
Her eyes turn sad as she releases a long breath.
“Tell me,” I demand, drawing the attention of Hunter, who glances over the back of his chair toward us.
She waits as he scowls at her, not saying a word until I shoot him a warning glare to mind his own business.
“Come on, Nis.” I attempt a softer approach. “What is it? What do you see?”
“I see what Emmanuel wants me to see.” Her voice is low, barely audible over the hum of the aircraft. “I see two children peacefully sleeping in the back of an old car. Both, presumably, in the clothes they wore to bed. Both snuggled close in a show of shared affection.”
I keep eyeing her, waiting for more. “And?”
“I also see what the picture lacked.” She doesn’t elaborate—just fucking leaves me hanging.
“It’s dangerous to withhold information from me right now.” Especially when I trust her judgment and the only thing she’s giving me to go on is raised apprehension. “Tell me before I lose my temper.”
She glares. “Don’t threaten me. I’ve heard so many from you that they’re no longer effective.”
“Then maybe I need to graduate to action instead of words.”
She holds my stare, one brow raised in a complete lack of fear. She won’t bow down to my aggression. Not this time.
Fuck.
“Please,” I grind between clenched teeth. “Just fucking tell me.”
Her expression changes with each of my labored heartbeats. Her eyes lose their hardness. Her mouth gentles. By the time she gives a hard swallow what beams back at me is sickening pity.
Shit.
She didn’t withhold information to be a bitch. She was attempting to protect me.
“I see a photo that could’ve been easily staged.” She holds my gaze, barely blinking. “I see subtle smudges of dirt on their pajamas and what looks to be blood on Tobias’s toes.”
I drag my cell closer, narrowing my attention on what she’s pointed out. The blindingly obvious now stares back at me.