Page 201 of Broken Bonds
“Then it’d be a first,” Morning says. “Because he never does.”
“But why Todd?” I nearly panic at the thought of him being at risk.
“Because I’ll smell like you.” Todd squeezes my hand. “She’ll smell you on me.”
“I thought you said I smell like the pack, though?”
“She’s your mother,” Todd says. “I’m not a wolf, but even I know she’ll be able to tell it’s your scent on me.”
“And he’s an elk, not a wolf,” Morning adds. “Meaning she might trust him more.”
“Why can’t I go?” I ask. “I can get her to leave.”
“Fuck no,” Todd says. “You are staying with the rest of the team.”
“I agree,” Morning says. “She needs to see someone physically imposing who she’ll believe can deliver on a promise to safely exfil her.”
“But what if my father’s guys find Todd at the house?”
“One of the SUVs, with four men, will follow Todd,” Morning calmly says. “He will always have backup. Plus, he will be armed. The second SUV will be staged at the transfer point and bring him and your mother to your location. The third SUV will hang back to make sure no one follows.”
I’m…numb. “And if she doesn’t come willingly?”
Morning’s smile thins. “The team with Todd will move in, forcibly extract her, and transport her to a safe house. We’ll let you see her for fifteen minutes before her transfer. From that point, you won’t have contact with her until after Sterling is dead.”
Todd tries to lighten the mood, waggling his eyebrows at me. “Hey, if I could convince Jax I was trying to challenge him, I should be able to sweet-talk your mom, right?”
“I hope so. What was the deal with those questions you asked at the presser?” I ask Morning.
“To rattle your father. Remind him people are paying closer attention than he realized, like Brynnella’s absence. And it worked. Immediately after the presser, he sent two of his guys directly to the airport and they purchased tickets to London. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that your latest Insta post the day before was from London,” he drawls, eyeing me over his coffee cup as he takes a sip.
“I don’t even have a fucking passport,” I say. “How can he believe that?”
“Because our guy’s a wiz,” Morning says. “But it doesn’t matter. Sterling’s men encountered a problem when they followed your breadcrumbs.”
“Problem?”
His slow smile would terrify me if he weren’t on our side. “I have a lot of relatives over there. Let’s just say the disappearance of two of Sterling’s men, including one named Paul, will reach his ears tomorrow morning.”
“Which is why the timeline,” I say. “And where’s Brynnella and her baby? Did she have it already? Surprised he’s not playing the loving grandfather card.”
A slight crease appears in Morning’s forehead. “We don’t know. We can’t find any record she’s had it, and no one’s seen her leave their house in over three weeks.”
“I doubt she lost it or my father would use that as an excuse to mine sympathy with an excavator.”
“Maybe in a few hours your mother can answer that question,” Morning says. “Meanwhile, let’s eat and then get Todd briefed and ready to go.”
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Todd
Right under his snout
I’m not exactly happy with this plan—rather, my part in it—but if it works and Freya willingly leaves it means Mal will be happy, and that’s all I care about.
For that reason alone, it’s worth it.
Even the implied “fuck you” to Sterling by spiriting his mate away right out from under his snout is a hollow victory with the man still alive.
