Page 3 of Ransom
I move to the corner of the lobby, aware that there are a bunch of eyes on me, but not bothered. I don't give a fuck if people look. They do it all the time. Because I'm the boss, because I'm rich…doesn't really matter why. They don't matter right now.
I quickly scan the lobby, then lock on Colton, deep in conversation with one of our new hires. His brow is furrowed in concentration, and there's a warmth in his eyes that puts the nervous-looking kid at ease. I don't recognize the kid, but that's not unusual anymore. The days of making every hiring decision,vetting every employee are long gone. We're too fucking big for that now.
Colton's suit jacket is long gone too, and the sleeves of his blue shirt are rolled up. He looks nothing like what he is: a giant teddy bear, admittedly one that could punch through a brick wall.
Getting him in a suit the first time was a fucking struggle. Thank fuck he's given up fighting me on it. Not that I really care what he wears, but there's something about putting that suit on that makes people look at him differently. And as the head of our security, he deserves to be treated with respect.
I wait patiently until he's done with the employee. Then he meets my gaze, and we give each other a little head tilt. It's enough to settle me. He's good. We're good. Time to find the rest of them.
Moving through the cubicles on the executive floor, I pass Jonas's office. The door's wide open, and I catch a glimpse of him scribbling furiously on his whiteboard. Numbers and symbols dance across the surface. Shit that I could figure out if I had a gallon of coffee and a week, but I don't have the patience to. I'm smart. Jonas is smarter. A lot smarter. Whatever he's working on is going to make us millions, I'm sure, so I don't bother knocking. I'll see him later.
Declan's lair is next, the darkness broken only by the glow of multiple screens. He's hunched over his keyboard, black beanie pulled low, fingers flying. I resist the urge to tell him to sit up straight - he'd just ignore me anyway. I have no idea what he's up to. He could be hacking a competitor or playing video games. Either is equally likely. I've learned it's better not to ask questions unless absolutely necessary.
A little further down, Kade's booming voice carries through his closed door. "Listen, you cocksucker, if you don't have those fucking contracts signed by lunch tomorrow, I'll personally comedown there and shove them so far up your fucking ass you'll be tasting ink for a week." There's a pause, then a bark of laughter. "That's what I fucking thought. See you next week."
He's so charming. No wonder Becca fell for him.
Just across from my office, Zach's perched on Maya's desk, his ten-thousand-dollar suit wrinkling as he leans in, a teasing smile on his lips. Maya's rolling her eyes, but she's grinning. Jealousy clenches tightly in my gut. Not jealousy of him specifically, just that he has that. He has Maya, and they are so perfect for each other. I couldn't have handmade a better woman for him. She pushes him out of his comfort zone, and he does the same for her. And they always look so fucking happy.
I sometimes wonder if I could have had that. Maybe if I hadn't left all those years ago, I could have icy gray eyes looking at me with that kind of love.
Some days, I wonder what would happen if I went back for her. Just parked my ass in front of her place and didn't leave until she loved me again. But could I really do that? Just pick up and go to her, leaving everything behind?
The idea that I would burn down the world for another chance with her scares the fuck out of me. Fire took everything from me once, and I won't let it happen again. I have to protect what I built.
Bumping my fist against Zach's as I pass, I move on to Nick and Maverick's offices, both empty. It's not unusual for them to be gone, but I've gotten used to Mav being around more often now that he's only working the pro bono cases a couple of times a month. The stacks of overstuffed folders on his desk are getting smaller and smaller, and the stress lines around his mouth are disappearing. He could be taking the afternoon off.
As I log into the security cameras at our Knight Street location to check on Micah, a little tendril of unease unfurls inmy chest. I'm always a little unsettled when I don't know where one of my brothers is. But this feeling is different.
Where the fuck are Mav and Nick?
2
BLAIR
"Well, fuckity fucking shit. Matt, you see that rear differential?"
I slide out from under the old Ford, wiping grease off my hands with a rag.
Matt's legs are still sticking out from under the truck. "Yup, my thoughts exactly."
"Mr. Johnson's been driving this thing since before I was born." I lean against the workbench, calculating costs in my head. "We're looking at new seals, bearings, and probably a fluid flush."
Matt rolls out, wipes his face with the back of his hand, and smears grease along his forehead. "That's gonna cost a pretty penny. Can the old man afford it?"
No, he definitely can't.I shrug. "Probably not. But we'll figure something out." There's really no option but to fix it. He needs that truck to keep shit running at his farm.
Matt gives me a look that makes me want to stick a finger up his nose. "Blair, you can't keep doing work at cost. We've got bills to pay too, you know."
"Has your paycheck ever bounced, asshole? My bills always get paid. Just not on the backs of folks who can barely make ends meet."
Matt sits up, giving me that look I've seen a lot since my dad died. "How about actually making a living?"
I snort. "So I can buy what exactly? I don't need anything. My truck runs, I have a roof over my head, and enough money to have a little fun with once in a while. I don't need to gouge anyone."
"I guess I better get my resume polished up for when this place goes under," he grumbles.
"I'll write you a glowing recommendation." I toss him a clean rag. "Now, get back under there and double-check those brake lines. I thought I saw a leak."
