Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“If I thought he’d back off, I wouldn’t want the fucker dead.”
“Dead isn’t an option. Caged is. Short-term pain for long-term gain.”
Damion pushes to his feet and walks to the island, where he presses his hands to the top and dips his chin. I’m standing in an instant and crossing to where he stands, my back to the other two men and my hand on Damion’s waist. “I know you want to protect me, and you think hiding me is the way, but it’s not. Protecting me is ending this.”
He pulls me in front of him, his hands planted on either side of me. “Then we do it together. You understand?”
“That’s exactly what I want.”
“All right then. It’s decided.” He pushes off the island and pulls me to his side as we face the other two men. “He won’t fear Alana, but he’ll fear me. If we want my father rattled and stupid, she stands with me. We’re back together, and we’re coming after him. He’ll go after her to shut me down.”
At this point, Blake and Adam are standing. “We can make that happen,” Blake replies.
“Alana’s mother has to be removed from the picture, or she’ll be used as leverage,” Damion replies, glancing at me. “How do we make that happen?”
“My mother doesn’t want to be protected,” I say, feeling the bitterness of her betrayal.
Damion rotates me to face him. “But you want to protect her. Put your anger aside and think. How do we make that happen?”
Guilt stabs at me. He’s right. I do want to protect her, but my anger is still so very present that it muddles up my decisions. It’s how I divided me and Damion when I should have stood beside him, but I shove those thoughts aside for now and focus on the question. “Shy of kidnapping her, I don’t know. I wish I did.” But as sure as I say the words, an idea pops into my head. “We have to scare her into hiding.”
Chapter Eleven
Alana
I call my mother and set-up a time to stop by and see her later this evening, and not long later, the group of us are on the road. The ride feels long, and Damion has to calm me down several times, and with good reason. Now that my mother is on my mind, I realize my grave mistake in believing she was safe. I’d thought there was no way West Senior would hurt her, not when he’d just killed my father, not when the world would be watching. But Blake’s superhero complex comment about Damion’s father only served to drive home where Damion’s fears are rooted.
He knows his father.
And his father is dangerous and will do what others would not dare.
As eager as I am to get “home” to the apartment where I live with Damion and should never have left, the stop by my mother’s place is first. Walker has a private plane on standby to whisk my mother off to a private location in Italy where West Senior will not be able to locate her. I’ll arrive by a private car driven by a member of Walker Security that will wait on me. There will be discreet security nearby. Everything will be fine.
Until it’s not.
Damion and I part ways a few blocks from the building, and it’s not a gentle goodbye. He kisses me and strokes my hair behind my ear. “Get in and get out.”
“I will. I’ll be fine. I just hope I can actually convince her to go to Italy.”
“What exactly is the plan to scare her into hiding?”
“I’m going to convince her the FBI is planning to charge her with crimes my father committed. I’m going to tell her she has to get out of town while my attorney goes to work for her.”
“You don’t think that will make her run to my father?”
“Not if I convince her he’s behind it all.”
“Baby, I don’t know if you can win that battle. She’s under his spell.”
“It’ll work. I know it will work.”
“You think your mother will leave the country to escape the FBI?”
“She’s not logical. She won’t think of it as running, but rather hiding. And hiding to her is not the same thing. It’s what she’s done with your father. She hid from her husband and her marriage.”
He studies me a moment and nods. “I trust your judgment with your mother, but, baby, I need you to trust mine with my father.”
I kiss him. “I will. I gotta go. I need this over with.” I reach for the door, and he pulls me back, kissing me deeply, before he says, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Just a few minutes later, I’m in the back of a black sedan with a driver named “Joey” behind the wheel. Joey is much like the other men of Walker Security in that he’s big, fit, and charming. His hair is plentiful, light brown, and wavy, and his smile infectious. “We got this,” he promises with a wink.