Page 73 of A Captive Situation

Bess was chewing on her bottom lip, trying not to laugh too. Her forehead dipped toward the door. “I can’t help it. They are bothfine. I don’t know who your new boyfriend is, but Beck is going to shit his pants when he sees him. He walks and breathes violence.” She shared a look with her sister, dropping her voice. “I bet he fucks violence too.”

“Aunt Bess!”

Aunt Bess only grinned at me, not admonished one bit.

“Hmmm mmm.” Clara’s head bopped along, agreeing. “The other one looks like he’s from aGQmagazine. They’re both top shelf.”

Graham’s hand went to his husband’s shoulder. “You aren’t seeing us arguing.”

“Oh, god. Another one came in.”

We all looked at Bess’s groan.

Those four were now enjoying all of this. They weren’t realizing the real danger that was lingering and falling down over me like a fire blanket. I didn’t know who those other men were. A part of me didn’t want to know. They belonged to that world. No police badges were being flashed.

That other guy came into the brownstone. Two more men followed him, going upstairs like they’d been told ahead of time where to go.

Clara and Bess were oohing and aahing over this latest addition, and I could see the appeal. He was a little leaner than the Forbes Magazine guy, but he was no less dangerous. He held the same authority andpower the other did, but his eyes had a darker and meaner glint in them, matching the smirk on his face. He clasped hands with Jake, whose shoulders relaxed an inch.

This guy was who Jake had called. He was the one Jake wanted to be here.

He walked around to stand in front of Jake and Forbes, his eyes zeroing in on us and staying. He shouldn’t be able to see us. The door was barely open. His smirk went up another notch before his shoulders lowered. He faced the other two, his back now to us and blocking our view. All three of their heads folded together, their voices as well. We couldn’t hear a thing.

“Fuddruckers.” Clara’s mouth twisted in a pout.

Graham closed the door with a sigh.

Oliver asked, when we all moved to the couches, “What do you think they’re doing out there?”

“Cleaning up those bodies.”

Graham turned Clara’s way. “How long does that take? You pick up the bodies and carry them outside, right?”

She wrinkled her nose, leaning forward on her seat. Both of my aunts were in their sleep kimonos and slippers. Bess was wearing jersey cow slippers with the cow head on top of her feet. Clara was wearing fuzzy flamingo slippers.

She tugged up her kimono end so it draped just above her knees, where she rested her elbows. She looked very take-charge, that fierce expression on her face. “Not if they’re cleaning it like pros. Those out there, they look like pros.”

“What do you mean, pros?” Graham leaned closer.

Her eyes got big, real big, and she made a point of closing her mouth, but she sent me a meaningful look.

Everyone followed, their gazes landing on me. My stomach rolled, but I sat up higher. “What?”

Maybe they hadn’t bought my story. Maybe I should just tell them those guys were Mafia, but if I said that word, that would set my auntsoff in a whole different way. Thinking it was a family with a grudge was different than a real-life, official, organized-crime villain.

Just then, the door opened with Jake appearing as Bear and Pooh darted in, running to their dads.

“Oh, Bear!” Oliver opened his arms and Bear jumped up with a big woof. He caught the giant black Lab, falling backward on the couch as Bear began licking all over his face, his tail wagging and hitting Bess in the face.

Pooh did the same to Graham, making it up in one dainty jump, and her excitement was more controlled. She leaned up, one paw to his chest, licking his jaw before jumping down and starting her way over all of our laps. She got to me, giving me one quick lick before Jake moved her, putting her on the next person’s lap. He grabbed my hand, tugging me up with him, and dragged me from the room.

The other two were waiting in the kitchen, both keenly watching me.

“Wait a minute. Where are you taking—” Bess cried out, but all of them clambered to follow us.

Jake stopped them, an arm hitting the doorway and blocking them. “I need to talk to her. You”—he looked at all of them—“stay.”

Clara growled, her head down, and I recognized the look in her eye. She did not like what Jake was putting down, and she sure as shit was about to throw it right back in his face. Only, Jake wouldn’t react in the way Clara was accustomed. She was used to guys from home backing down from her. She was older than them, sometimes bigger, and she had sass. It was known in Bear Creek, Montana, not to mess with Aunt Clara.

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