Beautiful Thorns (Boys of Bellerose #4)(5)
Author: Jaymin Eve

 

“Fine. But I’m leaving my people to ensure you’re all safe for now. Local law enforcement has already been paid off, so you have some time, but I wouldn’t hang around longer than necessary.” She paused in the doorway to look back at me. “Jace… be kind to her. She doesn’t need your head-fuckery right now.”

 

Irritation burned in my chest, and I sneered. “Like you’re one to talk.”

 

Not waiting for her reply, I shut the door firmly in her face, then grimaced when I saw the splintered frame and busted locks. We definitely couldn’t stay here. But that begged the question: Where did we go?

 

Back in the living room, Rhett held Billie in his arms, his face buried in her hair as he rocked them both gently. Grayson had a broom out and was sweeping up glass from the marble floor, pausing only to give me a questioning look.

 

I shrugged, then tipped my head toward the bedrooms. He understood, silently following me along to the room that would have been mine for the week.

 

“We need somewhere else to go,” I told him, folding my arms over my chest. “This place is—”

 

“Obviously,” he muttered. “And we need to address the tour. Call Brenda; she’ll need to start working on a strategy to release us from the rest of the concerts now that we’ve lost Angelo.”

 

Fuck. The tour. That hadn’t even crossed my mind.

 

“The label will probably try to dump a random bass guitarist on us to finish out the shows.” I groaned, sitting heavily on the end of the bed, my elbows resting on my knees. “I can’t believe this is even happening.”

 

Gray sighed, then gave me a comforting pat on the shoulder. “You might be surprised. The drugs are gone, the money is gone, and Angelo is in the hands of his enemy. Giovanni might cut his losses and let us cancel. His motivation was never to make our fans happy; it was only about moving drugs. So… hopefully Brenda can figure it out. Want me to call her?”

 

I gave him a small grin. “No, it’s fine. I’ll deal with her. You work on finding us somewhere to stay tonight. And maybe for the rest of the week, too. You know Billie won’t want to leave the area without Angelo. Not that I blame her.”

 

Grayson huffed an annoyed sound. “She needs to go back to America. You all do. Now that we know how closely tied to this gang war she is…”

 

I knew what he was saying was true, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. “Angelo is my brother,” I said quietly. “I can’t just walk away like that… and neither will she. Not now.” Not when we’d finally reconnected with our Angel.

 

Gray just grunted and left the room. I suspected that wasn’t the last time we would discuss this topic, but I put it aside for now. My phone was still plugged into its charger beside the bed where I’d left it before the break-in, so I grabbed it to call Brenda. Thankfully, it was daytime at home, and she answered on the second ring.

 

“We’re in shit,” I told her by way of greeting.

 

She sucked in a sharp breath, and I could imagine the curses rolling through her mind. “Okay. Police trouble, media trouble, or worse?”

 

“Worse.” Although I imagined this could fall under both police and media trouble too. “Dead bodies and bullet-ridden house kind of worse. And they took Angelo hostage.”

 

Brenda clicked her tongue. “Where’s Hannah?”

 

That startled me. Where was Hannah? Had she been involved in the break-in? She’d checked all our security requirements before we arrived, but then I guessed perimeter alarms didn’t mean shit once someone had kicked in the front door.

 

“I have no clue,” I replied honestly. “She left us here earlier this afternoon; we haven’t seen her since.”

 

“Give me a minute; I’ll call you back.” Brenda ended the call without waiting for my reply, leaving me sitting there with a silent phone in hand. While I waited for her to return my call, I left the bedroom and went looking for the video surveillance unit. Maybe it’d give us some clues about where they were taking Angelo.

 

Unsurprisingly, Grayson had already found the control unit near the foyer and was scrolling through the footage.

 

“Find anything?” I asked when he glanced up.

 

“License plates,” he replied, pausing the video feed from the front gates. “I’ve already sent them through to my contact here, but Vee might have better connections.”

 

My phone buzzed in my hand, and I accepted Brenda’s call.

 

“She’s not answering her phone,” Brenda told me in a terse voice. “What time did you say she left the house?”

 

I frowned, thinking. “Uh, maybe two? Thereabouts. She left after the leasing agent.”

 

“Where is your security team?” she asked, and now I felt really fucking dumb.

 

“Uh… I don’t know.” Then an uncomfortable feeling washed over me. “Gray, scroll back to when we arrived this afternoon.”

 

Grayson did as I asked without question, finding the moment we’d all arrived on site, and we watched the black-and-white image without sound. Brenda waited, silent on the line, as we fast forwarded through our entry and then slowed back to real time when the agent left. Switching to the street side camera, we watched as Hannah and the agent woman chatted for a while, then the agent hopped in her car and drove away. Hannah answered a call, then started to walk toward the waiting town car.

 

Then she got shot in the head by a man with a suppressed pistol and dragged into the bushes.

 

The driver of the car leapt out, gun in hand, but was shot in the head by a second, unseen, assailant.

 

“Shit,” I breathed. “Hannah’s dead. Do whatever you need to do, Brenda, but we will not be continuing the tour. I don’t care who sues us over it; we’re fucking done with this game.”

 

“You and me both, kid,” she replied in a tired voice. “Tell me about Angelo. What’s going on? Who took him?”

 

I rubbed my eyes, feeling the weight of all the violence and tension sitting across my shoulders. Angelo and I had been through so much; this couldn’t be how it ended. I couldn’t accept that. “We’re working on tracking him down, Brenda,” I said instead of answering her questions. “Just deal with Big Noise, and we’ll keep you posted on where we end up.”

 

She sighed. “I don’t like it, but I get it. Plausible deniability. What do I tell the label?”

 

Grayson and I exchanged a look, and he shrugged.