Granted, she didn’t know I was lurking in the parking lot, nor did she know that I was living in a rented apartment in the same building as her rather than the three-bedroom house I owned, just so I could be close in the event something happened. It was just another step I was taking in my efforts to keep her safe.
Would she be pissed if she found out? Yeah. Maybe. Even my easygoing sister was known to get upset from time to time. But her anger was the least of my worries. My only goal was to keep her alive so she could run the gamut of emotions another day.
I turned my attention to a car pulling into the lot. It wasn’t the midnight-blue sedan that had been following me earlier in the day, although I kept waiting for that one to appear. I had managed to lose the tail two hours ago, but I knew whoever was tracking me was still out there, waiting. I’d outwitted them for eighteen months, but it appeared they now had me in their sights. It wouldn’t be long before they caught me. At that point, my life would be over, but not before I endured a significant amount of torture that would be used as a means of getting me to give up my sister. I wouldn’t. Not to anyone. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try.
I exhaled sharply, looked back at the restaurant, waiting for Braelyn to get to her feet. She almost made it, but the douche managed to delay her once more.
I was so focused on watching her, I damn near came out of my skin when my cell phone buzzed. My reflexes had me grabbing for it, only for the fucking thing to fall between the seat and the console. It took effort to shove my hand in the narrow crevice, fumble for it, but I managed.
And it was still ringing when I retrieved it.
Thank God.
I took in the caller’s name, exhaled a relieved breath, and answered with a choppy, “Hey.”
“I got your message. You said it was urgent.”
“Thanks for calling me back,” I replied. “Would it be possible for me to stop by your office tomorrow?”
“It’ll have to be early. I have a day full of meetings.”
“The earlier the better,” I told him, remembering I had to take Braelyn to work. “Any chance you’ll be there before seven?”
“I will. My first meeting’s at six. Got a few minutes to spare at six thirty.”
“Perfect. I’ll be there at six thirty. See you then, Talon.”
The call disconnected.
Talon. No last name. Simply Talon. He was the one man I knew was capable of keeping my sister safe. He was also the one man I was hesitant to let my sister be around. Not because he was a bad guy. No, Talon was one of those men you could depend on in a crisis. However, he was a different breed, which was saying something considering my best friend, Zeke Lautner, was a ruthless Sadist who got off on inflicting pain.
I dropped the phone back into the center console and leaned my head back, staring through the restaurant window where my sister and the douche from the coffee shop continued to sit. It seemed to me the guy wasn’t ready for the night to be over, and there was no way he could miss Braelyn’s desire to leave. It was obvious by the way she’d turned in her chair as though getting ready to boost herself to her feet. She was just too sweet to follow through.
I hated that I was out here. I hated that I was intruding on my sister’s privacy. But in times like this, I found myself desperate. My sister meant the world to me, and keeping her safe was my priority. In fact, it had been my only goal since pretty much the day she was born. Being that I was eleven years older, by the time she took her first breath, I’d been up to speed on my family’s business, knew that my mother was a monster and my father the devil. Worse, I’d realized they were proud of who they were, living their lives to induce fear into many.
To hear my father tell the story, he was a direct descendent of the Capones, although I’d never found any evidence of that. Regardless, Frank Bianchi had built an empire by running drugs, guns, and women, as well as offering “protection” to those who unwillingly paid him to do so. Frank had no scruples whatsoever, but Marie was something else. She was a sadistic, sociopathic bitch. Somehow I’d managed to overlook her merciless actions, right up until she decided she would give my then nine-year-old sister to the man they were promoting to underboss: Jimmy “Kill Switch” Romano.
Nine fucking years old, for fuck’s sake. Just a fucking baby.
Ultimately, they’d left me no choice. In an effort to protect my sister from the asshole who had no qualms taking a child as a bride, I’d disappeared with her. Fifteen years ago, Salvatore and Teresa Bianchi, the children of Frank and Marie Bianchi, had ceased to exist, emerging as Ransom and Braelyn Bishop. At twenty, I’d become Braelyn’s guardian, and I’d done my level best to erase the violence of our past from her mind, to give her a life worth living. It hadn’t been easy raising a child when I’d had so little life experience myself, but I liked to think I’d done a relatively decent job.
For years my parents and their unscrupulous right-hand had looked high and low for us, and we’d been right under their noses all along. As the years went by, their efforts dwindled. We probably would’ve stayed safe if it weren’t for my need to help those I considered friends. Because of a favor I’d called in for Ian and Isaac Stokes, I’d managed to bring the heat down on me and my sister after all these years of hiding in plain sight.
Although it pissed me off beyond measure to be in the predicament I was in, I only had myself to blame. Yep. My do-gooder attitude had drawn attention to me when I would’ve been better off keeping on the DL.
Not that I was all that worried about my own well-being. I could hold my own, but if my parents did find me, I deserved whatever hell they wanted to rain down. However, my sister was a different matter. Braelyn did not deserve this, and now I had to find a way to fix what I’d started.
It would be ideal for me to disappear Braelyn for a little while, send her somewhere she’d be safe from the long reach of our family. Just long enough for me to redirect their efforts elsewhere, for those seeking me to believe I wasn’t as close as I was. Which meant I had to ask the one man on the planet I’d prefer not to be indebted to for a favor. A fucking huge favor.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow morning I would ask Talon for something that would have me indebted to him for life, because the man did not do anything for free.
But if it meant saving Braelyn, it would be worth it. No matter the cost.
TWO
Thursday, December 31, 2020
RANSOM
The following morning, at precisely 6:25 a.m., I was pacing the floor in Talon’s Chicago high-rise office, waiting for the man to extricate himself from a meeting.
I was here at the offices of Owned, Incorporated without being on the schedule—or so I’d been not-so-kindly informed by the woman at the reception desk. Never mind the fact Talon was expecting me. Evidently, if it wasn’t on the calendar, it never happened.
There for a second, I’d thought the receptionist/drill sergeant with the platinum wig and polyester suit was going to tackle me to the floor and drag me back to the elevator by my hair. At the very least, I’d figured she would call security. Thankfully, she’d made a call and gotten approval for me to be here. Or so I assumed since she’d left my hair in place and led the way to this lavish office, allowing me to wait in here without those beady eyes scrutinizing my every move.