Page 23 of Saving the Last Heir
Sighing, I took his hand in mine, his skin warm and soft. For a single second, we locked eyes while our hands clasped, and a few otherlessappropriate thoughts flitted through my mind.
6
JACKSON
Something interesting flashed across her eyes as we shook hands. Her palm was rougher than I’d imagined it, but then I supposed working in a garage would do that. This woman was no fake mechanic who played at being a tuner or a gearhead. She was the person who really did the work.
She kept looking at me, and I felt a little twinge of connection. Our meeting, and subsequent fiasco of a night, hadn’t gone the way I’d expected, but in the chaos, we’d both seen therealperson beneath. Shyanne was nota quitter, and she was one hell of a fighter. I didn’t know many people who could have done what she had. There was nothing in this life that would have actually made me hurt her—I simply wasn’t that kind of guy—but she hadn’t known that. Through it all, she’d kept her head and continued clawing and scratching to get away. In that look we shared, a grudging respect passed between us, as well as a hint of something else.
Now that I could sit and take stock, I had to admit she was beautiful. A gorgeous face and striking green eyes that stood out against her dark, flawless skin. The curves of her face weredelicate, sloping down to the arch of her jaw and up to her cheekbones. I couldn’t recall ever seeing a woman so beautiful. The vigor with which she’d handled herself in the garage made a soft yet highly inappropriate voice at the back of my head ask how she might handle herself in other, moreintimateways.
That thought caught me off guard, and I released her hand quickly—too quickly, since it looked more like I’d yanked it away rather than ending a cordial handshake.
“Uh, is everything all right?” Shyanne asked, her eyes narrowed in confusion, her hand still outstretched.
“Sorry,” I said. “Uhm, I’m still a little surprised you’re willing to help me after I upended your whole life like that.”
“It’s not exactly how I thought I’d be spending my Tuesday night,” Shyanne said, but she smiled as she spoke.
Shrugging, I gestured around at the cabin. “True, there are worse places to spend the evening.”
“I can tell how much you care too,” Shyanne said, her eyes softening as she said it. “There’s something to be said about a man who cares. Sad as it is to say, that’s a rarity in today’s world. I’m guessing these drake guys have done something pretty bad for you to go to all this trouble?”
I nodded, thinking back on how all this started: the screaming, the crying, the empty nest. I could still hear my mother’s sobs as the rest of the household arrived, drawn by her shouts and screams. I’d been standing there, powerless and shocked when…
My cell phone rang. The incessant electric buzz barely cut through the shouting voices, my mother’s cries, and the blood roaring in my ears. When I realized the sound was coming from my pocket, I ripped the device out, eyes locked on the empty circle of stones where my sister had been.
Not looking at the caller ID, I put the phone to my ear. “I…I’ve got to call you back,” I muttered, the backs of my eyes burning.
“See, that’s gonna be a problem,” a deep, unfamiliar voice drilled into my ear on the other line. “You hang up? Maybe me and the boys decide to have us a nice, big omelet with this egg we’ve got here.”
The word sliced through my terror and heartache, sending a flood of outrage, confusion, and anger through me. My eyes snapped wide, and I sucked in a breath.
“Who the fuck is this?” I hissed, keeping my voice low as I watched Tiana and her daughters trying to console my mother. The others milled about in various states of mourning.
“I’m sending you some coordinates. You’ll find another phone at that location. When it rings in a half hour, you better be there to answer.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, the line went dead. All I could do was stare at the phone, my mind trying to make sense of what I’d heard. A clock began ticking in my head. Thirty minutes?
My mother was sobbing in Tiana’s arms. I wanted to comfort her, to hold her, but I had to go see what this was about and find out who had my sister. Before I could talk myself out of it, I sprinted to the front door. My phone beeped with thecoordinates, and the second I burst out of the doors, I shifted and took flight.
The spot was nearly fifty miles from our home. Even while flying, I had to push hard to get there in time. I landed just as the trill of a phone chirped into the still of the night. The cell lay on a stone outcropping, the screen lit up with the incoming call. Shifting back, I sprinted to the phone and snatched it up, answering as quickly as I could.
“Hello?”
“That was close, Jack. Really, fucking close.”
“Who the fuck are you, and where is my sister?” I growled, gripping the phone so hard that the plastic and metal flexed beneath my fingers. Any harder, and I would snap it in two.
“I think you know, don’t you, Jack?”
“My name is Jackson, goddamn it.”
“I like to be more informal when dealing with business partners. I’ll say it again. You do know who I am, don’t you?”
I did. I’d never had any direct dealings with Joseph Anitoli, but there was only one person I could imagine being so bold and aggressive to actually break into my family’s ancestral home and kidnap my sister’s egg.
“Say it,” the man said, a cocky note to his voice. “Say my name.”
