“She finally opened up and told me what happened from the night her parents were killed to when Owen rescued her.”
“Rescued her? I thought he was the one who took her,” Nik said.
“We were wrong. Owen really was a good guy. How he found her is still a mystery. There are some potential thoughts, but in the end, it doesn’t matter because he rescued her from hell. I can’t tell you all the details surrounding it, confidentiality and all, but it was brutal.” Marcel paused for a moment. “Afterhearing everything, I’m inclined to believe the original kidnapping and this most recent one are connected.”
“Fuck.” I rubbed my head, wincing at the approaching migraine.
“I believe her grandfather might be behind it,” Marcel said quietly, letting the information sink in. He told us about the similarities and the Russian connection. And how the kidnapping coincided with his release. “I believe he may have been behind the package she received, too. A warning of sorts.”
Marcel’s words were a chilling reminder of that night and how it was the catalyst that threw us all together to begin with. Nik and Ivan both knew. It was time to let Bash and Marcel in on what I’d found out.
I cleared my throat. “Actually, Jenna and Alisha sent the package. They thought it would be a funny joke to have Kinsley waiting in that ugly-ass outfit for me to come and collar her, knowing I wouldn’t,” I confessed.
“What?” Marcel asked, dumbfounded.
My anger simmered just beneath the surface. “The club is wired for sound, and I was going into a meeting when I overheard them talking about Kinsley.”
As I finished my confession, Bash’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened in surprise, and a low whistle escaped his lips. “I would have loved to be a fucking fly on that wall, Brother. Crazy ass bitches,” he exclaimed. “You weren’t going into a session with one of them, were you?”
His words cut through the tension in the room, injecting a moment of levity into the heavy atmosphere. I couldn’t help but let out a rueful chuckle, his blunt honesty yet another reminder that I’d missed home.
“Fuck you, asshole. It took everything in me not to lose my shit on them both. I’m not even sure my father would have been able to get me out of that level of trouble.”
I looked at Marcel, and he nodded. His gaze was distant as he processed the information, probably wondering if I really was certifiable. According to my girl, I was.
Bash’s lighthearted demeanor shifted, replaced by a tense energy that immediately caught my attention. I stared at him, studying his expression, waiting for him to speak and tell me what the fuck was up.
“Brother?”
“Regardless of the package and the sender, she’s asked for help to disappear,” Sebastian said, calm as could be.
I narrowed my eyes as a new bout of rage ran through me. “What the fuck? You’d better have said hell no,” I bellowed.
“Alek, I know you’re probably reeling right now. This is shocking, I get it, but she has to do this,” Sebastian said.
No way this was happening. Sebastian rarely took anyone else’s side but mine. It was a bond forged through the years we’d spent together. We always had each other’s backs, no matter what. His fucking words stung of betrayal.
Was he fucking serious with this shit?
I stretched my neck, trying to ease the tension building. “Like hell she does,” I bit back, while Nik nodded in agreement.
“There’s no way you can keep her safe. You know where this leads. The fucking Russian mob, Alek. And it’s her decision to make. She has the means to do it, and Marcus is bringing it with him. She has money, IDs, and bank account numbers that Owen left her.” Sebastian’s exasperation reached new levels as he spoke.
“You’re supposed to bemybrother, Bash. I’m seriously questioning the very foundation of our fucking friendship right now. And I swear to god, if I didn’t love the two of you like family, I’d kill you myself. She’s not going anywhere.”
Marcel heaved. “Again, it’s happening. I know you guys love her, and if you do, you’ll let her go.”
His words were quietly delivered, and damned if they didn’t hit me where it hurt. We loved her—he was right about that. I needed some time to think, to process everything. We disconnected from the call, and I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes in an attempt to shut out the noise in my head.
The first few hints of pain radiated through my head as the jet hummed around me. I could feel Nik’s gaze, his silent support a reminder I wasn’t alone. But there was still the uncertainty and confusion of what was next for all of us.
“We should talk to Ivan,” Nik stated.
I nodded, even though I’d rather have a wax than deal with his grouchy ass. The initial shock would wear off, and he’d come around. Together, we rose and made our way out of the room.
We found him sitting alone, a glass in one hand and the bottle of vodka Bash and Marcel had sent months ago on the tray. He was slouched, his expression a mask of pain and anger. It cut straight to the core of my heart.
“Ivan—”
