“Now she really sounds like your type,” he remarks, studying the bandage for a moment before he looks up at me, his eyes glittering with the accusation.
“Fuck me. I regret telling you any of this. I don’t have a type.”
“Well, if you did, it seems married runaway nuns with a penchant for torture would be up there on the list.” He gives me a pointed look. “You sure you can manage her?”
“I’ll manage her just fine. My way. I just need some time. A little sleep.”
“You’ve got days. Maybe hours. If what she says is true…” His brows raise, and he tilts his head. “Corey and the governor will be a handful.”
“We’ll need more men on the ranch. At the casino. Did you contract any of the men I suggested while I was gone?” I’d rather discuss the practicalities of security. That’s what I’m good at, where I shine. I could keep the ranch and casino safe if we focused on maintaining awareness and security levels.
“The MC is on board. I’m in talks with the merc group out of Colorado Springs you recommended before you left.”
“Good. We’ll need all hands on deck. What about the extra digital security?”
“I hired the security team you asked for. They’ve installed cameras, and they’re working on getting your little drone army together. This new shit makes me nervous. Especially knowing what you’ve been able to do in the past with it,” he remarks, recalling the time I hacked into a rival’s system.
“Well, let me handle it. I’ll meet with them and get things online as quickly as possible.” I’m antsy to do something more than babysit. Distance from Zephyrine would probably help with all of my newfound proclivities. If Grant knew the depth of some of them, he’d probably insist I take a break. Or fuck her to get her out of my system.
“The nun first. The rest is secondary to her when you’re the only one who has a chance in hell. Put your priest uniform back on if you have to, and confess her. Whatever it takes.” Grant’s tone brooks no disagreement.
“Sure thing,” I grumble. I want to argue, but the strategy is pragmatic.
“Where are you keeping her?” He’s suddenly interested in the minutiae of my plan.
“The honeymoon cabin. I’m not breaking that news to Ramsey and Hazel. Figured you could do that for me.” I smirk, thinking about him having to get his ass reamed for our takeover of our little brother’s wife’s guesthouse. At least one thing I don’twant to do will be off my plate. At least I could celebrate small victories.
“Hazel’ll hate it,” Grant laments.
The honeymoon cabin is a new extension of my sister-in-law’s bed and breakfast. I gave her my old hunting cabin, and she fixed it up, making it the perfect remote retreat for a newlywed couple who wanted to get away from everything. In my world, it was the perfect isolated interrogation spot. It's high on the mountain where we can keep a solid perimeter and prevent an easy escape.
Hopefully, I can get everything I need out of her before we take our next step. I need to know what we’re dealing with. I doubt Hazel wants her property used as a prison, but I’m not sure what other options we have. So just like the rest of us, she’ll have to come along for the ride.
“If Zephyrine’s right about her husband, it’ll buy us some time if he tries to come find us. The casino and the inn are too public. Her father will at least put out an APB once he finds out. One wrong turn where she bumps into a tourist who recognizes her from TV or a helpful local…” I explain.
“It’s smart. What would be smarter is if you get as much out of her as quickly as you can, and we don’t have to worry about these kinds of details. Something we can use to go on the offensive instead of continually walling ourselves in down here.” Grant’s like a caged lion, pacing back and forth, eyeing the options around him. He’s usually more levelheaded than I am, but he wants blood for what happened to Dakota.
“I agree. I’ll deliver on it. You know me well enough to know that.” This is the part I’m good at; I can do this much.
“Good. Another whisky before you go?” Grant nods to my empty glass, but I don’t have a chance to answer when my phone rings loudly, bursting the otherwise calm, stately atmosphere of my brother’s broad executive suite.
I glance down, and it’s one of our guys. Specifically, it’s the one I left in charge of Zephyrine.
“Yes?” I ask impatiently, standing up to pace. I can’t imagine this is good news.
“She’s made a run for it,” he admits. “Obviously, there’s nowhere she can go, but she could hurt herself. We’re on her trail. I knew you’d want to know as soon as possible.” Jack’s voice is patterned by his heavy breathing and the sounds of his boots pounding the ground as he follows her through the woods.
“Fucking hell. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep an eye on her.” I'm glad I tagged her while she was asleep. It will make this part easier at least.
“Will do.”
I stuff the phone back into my pocket and glare out the window for half a moment before I turn around. This won’t help my case. But I’m surprised when I see an amused grin instead of anger on my brother’s face.
“Trouble with your ward?” My brother’s terrible at hiding his humor.
“I’ve got it handled.”
“Try to avoid getting tortured this time,” Grant calls after me.
