Page 95 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two

“Spit it out, Riale,” I snip.

“The bounty’s gone up. It’s tripled,” Riale says. “With a new bonus for bringing them in alive.”

The statement goes off like a gong. I know what that means. Lakeland would only want them alive if he planned to see them suffer.

I wish I could take a Brillo pad to my memories and scour out the images I’ve seen in our rescues.

Women, children, young men—all trafficked.

Tortured.

All had unspeakable things done to them.

Lakeland would have added my family to that roster.

Without hesitation. Without question.

I bring the joint to my lips and pull in smoke hard to stop the rise of vomit threatening to spew all over the gold-threaded carpet.

“Lock all this shit down,” I command, straightening and exhaling before taking another pull of the smoke. The joint dulls the tension in my chest, but I’m still anxious. “Make the Gold Coast house safer than Fort Knox.”

“Got it,” Riale says. I hang up without another word.

My eyes slide closed, and I keep them closed as the forward doors lock with athunkand the flight attendants move to their jump seats for takeoff.

They know not to bother me on good days unless I call for them, so my mood must be apparent right now because they won’t even look at me.

The wheels go up, and that weightless lift when we enter the sky settles something in my brain. Or maybe it’s the weed.

All I know is, as the clouds pass the small windows, for the first time in more than forty-eight hours, I feel like I can take a breath. I know where everything and everyone is. Lakeland’s on the move, but I’m faster, stronger than he knows.

He can try to come after my family, but I’ll never let him get close ever again.

Now to deal with Shae and her response to everything…but I can deal with that particular puzzlelater.

My phone rings, and I look at the screen with part annoyance, part resignation.

“King. It’s been a minute,” I say, opting for a bland tone.

Nedrick King rarely calls me. Despite being Shae’s best friend’s brother and owning most of the commercial real estate in Chicago, St. Louis, and Detroit, our paths rarely cross.

Probably because where I’m willing to get my hands really dirty, Nedrick has a stick so far up his ass it’s a wonder he can sit down.

“Explain why my sister just told me she has her two godchildren on my plane, and that the mother of said children was just in a violent shootout that somehow involved you?”

“Always to the point, King,” I say, sliding a bit lower in the seat. I pick up the gold lighter I use for my blunt and flip it between two fingers.

“Cut the shit, Sandoval. I don’t know what kind of fuck-shit you have going on, but I want no part of it. Especially when it involves my sister.”

My teeth clamp together so hard I hear the strain in my skull.

“Yeah, okay. Your sister is no innocent princess, no matter what her given name is. Look, Shae’s fine now.”

“Shae’sfinenow?” he asks, his voice incredulous.

“As for the kids: This is a domestic situation. Shae’s on my plane heading to the exact same place as Tempest, Raiden, and your sister.”

King goes quiet at that.