Page 93 of Together We Burn
Chapter thirty-six
Stevie
WalkingintoWill’sofficeon the weekend was always eerie. No receptionist at the front desk, no office staff mulling around, only the fat security guard who was more dangerous to his health than anyone who might want to storm the place. The guy had a higher chance of catching diabetes than stopping someone barging into the tower block.
The ascend to the top floor was uncomfortable. A fog of uncertainty, angst, and impatience so thick it was tangible. Jake held my hand firmly, not letting me out of his sight since we arrived back at his apartment last night. Alex’s face was sickly white, the dark circles lining his eyes an indicator he hadn’t slept, and Nate was muttering away to the dog he insisted on bringing.
Will stood out in the open hallway, ready to greet us since Maria didn’t work Saturdays. The scowl on his face deepened at the sight of my dog, but he pushed his office door open and stepped aside to let us in.
“You brought that animal too?” He grabbed my arm, keeping me from entering the room after the guys. I jerked out of his hold, narrowing my eyes as I faced him.
“Yes,” I spat. “That kid’s mom’s missing, and my dog keeps him distracted and calm. You try telling an eleven-year-old his psychotic grandma is the reason why we can’t find her.” I took one step forward, but paused. “Christ, I feel sorry for your baby when it’s born. Thank fuck it’s got Missy as a parent.”
“Watch your mouth,” Will snapped.
I whirled. “And you watch yours, asshole. It is your fucking fault we’re in this mess.”
“Aunt Stefy,” Nate’s little voice called from inside Will’s office. I glowered at Will for a beat before storming into the room to where Nate had taken Alex’s usual spot on the sofa. “Look at the size of Mr. Jones’s TV! Uncle Alex says I can watch whatever I want while the grown-ups talk.”
Will appeared next to his brother, bending down and picking up the remote from the coffee table. Dropping to his haunches, Will regarded my nephew with an expression that almost looked human.
“That’s right, little man, we got cartoons, movies, sports–anything you want,” he said, an unfamiliar warmth to his tone that almost made me a little jealous of Nate. Will always spoke to me with contempt and annoyance, so this new, kind Will was unnerving.
“And I’ve also got this…” He handed Nate the control and stood to rummage in a drawer near his wet bar. Pulling out a bag of Lays and a cold can of Coke, he returned to the sofa, sat them on the table, and Nate looked up to me in question. I nodded with a smile, and he scooted to the end of the cushions, grabbing the chips and digging straight into them.
“You’d think we never gave you breakfast, buddy,” Alex said, messing up the top of his dark hair before taking the remote and turning on the TV. “WhatMarvelfilm are you on now?”
“Iron Man 2,” he replied, mouth full of chips. Alex chuckled and began searching for the film.
Will opened the can of Coke and placed it on a coaster, then stood and went behind his desk, all traces of his human-side evaporating. He sat in his chair, spine ramrod straight, shoulders high, and steepled his fingers in front of his lips.
He considered each of us, his dark gaze observing Alex first, arms folded over his chest, tattoos completely covered by his long-sleeved white Henley. Jake, in business attire as standard whenever he attended meetings, even if this wasn’t one he was used to. And then me. I’d chosen black leggings with pockets up the legs, which made them look more like combat pants than sportswear, a black tank top, and my leather jacket on top. My hair was tied in a tight ponytail and was pulled through the loop belt of Alex’s black baseball cap.
“As you know, Emilia has one of our own,” he began. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the urge to call bullshit. Chris wasn’t one of our own. In a clusterfuck of events, she was collateral…
“We don’t get involved with trivial things out of the scope of the assignment…” Words Will had said to me a lifetime ago echoed in my head. “…everything else is just collateral.”
My heart thumped hard against my ribs, fighting to escape its prison, deep in my chest. My throat felt like someone had it in a vice grip, making it hard to swallow, cutting off my oxygen to the point I felt dizzy with the lack of it. I knew I’d stopped breathing, knew I had to gulp in the air my body was in desperate need of, but I couldn’t figure out how.
Alex had jumped up at something his brother had said, slamming his hands on Will’s desk and growling in his face. I jumped, the fright kick-starting my brain, reminding me to breathe, to focus, to speak.
“You were never going to fight to get her back, were you?” I asked, stopping Alex mid-rant, and for all three men to fix their sights on me. I wanted to stand, but the tremble in my legs wouldn’t let me. I dug my nails into my thighs as I stared at Will. “You said it yourself; you don’t negotiate with terrorists. Your end game is to take down Emilia. So, what is your plan, Will? Wait until she gives a drop-off point, then arrive all guns blazing? Not caring who you take out in the process as long as she is dead?”
Jake and Alex snapped their attention back to Will. He was silent, contemplative as he inhaled, then exhaled heavily, like he was purposely creating dramatic tension. Will leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee.
“In every battle, there are always casualties on both sides. Ideally, Chris will not get caught in the crossfire, but your mother is a danger. Worse than any other target I’ve assigned you in the past, Stevie.”
Nausea roiled my stomach, made worse when I heard Nate laugh at something happening in the movie. That little boy would lose his mom, and Will would be okay with that.
“If that were to happen, Nate would be taken care of for the rest of his life.”
“He doesn’t need money,” Jake hissed, startling Will and surprising me. Not that I thought Jake would agree with Will, but I didn’t expect him to get involved. “He needs his mother.” He paused, glancing at Alex. “A father.”
“And he would have that,” Will stated. “I would assume you and Stevie would take guardianship of the boy, considering how close you both seem.” His lip curled up. “Or we could find an appropriate family to place him with. He would not be left unwanted.”
“What if this was Missy?” Alex asked, a rage so strong it was palpable as he spoke. “What if we said your unborn child would be ‘taken care of’ like we were re-homing an unwanted animal. Do you even hear yourself speak right now? What the fuck happened to you?”
“Missy understands my line of work has its consequences. She understands the risks, and so should all of you.”
