Page 243 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

He doesn’t say anything when I pull out the sack and throw it over his head. No one will see shit from the outside with the level of tint on Chester’s windows, totally illegal, but someone would be stupid to say anything.

The drive back doesn’t feel like it takes as long, and instead of going to Olympia, we lock him in the cells next to the morgue. Davis arrives fairly quickly and walks in to talk to Paul. I stand guard to make sure he doesn’t try to escape. I’m the last person he would want to go up against if he is going to leave with his life. We have a small interrogation room down here, and I lean against the wall while Paul sits on one side of the table with Davis on the other.

“Let’s not beat around the bush. What do you want to know?”

Pretty ballsy for him to open his mouth to move this along, but I’ll let it slide. For now.

“Two things,” Davis says. “Where is Ziyon, and what is he up to?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he states, picking at his nails.

“More like you won’t—I can tell by the tone in your voice. You’re afraid Ziyon will kill you, but I would be more concerned about your family right now.”

“I want protection,” he demands, and Davis laughs.

“You’re not really in a position to ask for anything,” Davis states, shaking his head.

The door to the room opens, and Brennan walks in. He would have been watching from behind the two-way glass.

“I can offer a safe house for your family until Ziyon is taken care of, but you will need to continue to work, or he will know something is up.”

Paul looks down at his hands, clearly weighing up his options. “Fine, but my family gets taken to a safe house now. Once you have that sorted, I will talk.”

Brennan nods and pulls out his phone.

“Boston, please retrieve them. Make them pack and take them to the safe house. Call me when you’re there... Yes, tell Kai you can pretend to be the police if that’s what it takes. Just get it done.”

Three hours. Three fucking hours. I don’t even know why it took so long, but now that his family is safe, we are back in business. He talks to his wife and tells her everything will be fine; she seems happy with what he tells her.

He hands the phone back to Brennan and sighs. He knows he has no choice if he wants to live through today.

“I can give you the coordinates for his location. It’s close to New Hope. He moves constantly, and we get sent his location via a burner phone. As for what he has planned, he doesn’t tell me anything. All I know is he got paranoid one day that someone was after him, which was fine, but then his wife went crazy. They had a huge fight, and the next thing I knew, we were moving them somewheresafe. It’s all I know, I swear.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Davis confirms.

“Good, now I will give you a burner phone and you will contact me directly every time he moves locations. You can also contact your wife, but do not tell her what is happening. Also, don’t do anything stupid like ask Ziyon to help you. If I find out you have double-crossed us, I will blow the house up with your family inside. We can’t guarantee Ziyon doesn’t already know we have you,” Brennan tells him.

“He is out of the country, something about taking his wife on a much-needed holiday. I will have to pick them up from the airport when he messages me a pickup date and time.”

“Good, now go home and do whatever married men do when their wives and children are out of town,” Davis adds. “Make it believable.”

“That’s it? You’re just letting me go?” Paul sputters in disbelief.

“Why wouldn’t we?” I state. “We’re not the bad guys in this scenario. Do right by us, and we’ll do right by you. But make no mistake, we can be your worst nightmare.”

“Noted.”

The door flies open and bangs against the wall as Colt waltzes in. The guy is way too comfortable around us now.

“Are we good to go? I have two very pregnant women to escape from,” he says with a laugh.

“Sure are,” I say, pulling out a knife from my boot and flicking the blade up. I slice through the cable tie cuffing Paul’s hands. He heaves a breath and stands, stretching himself out.

“Good luck with that,” I tell Paul, and clap him on the shoulder.

Now all we have left to do is wait, find out what Ziyon is up to, and then decide what to do with him. My vote is we just end him. I don’t trust him around Jolie or the babies. If he was the good guy, he would have come to us with his tail between his legs and willingly helped Jolie build Olympia into what his family had always wanted it to be. Yet, where is he?

Chapter Twenty-Two

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