Page 90 of Stolen By the Billionaire
Blaze was sitting beside her, chowing down on a large bowl of the oats they’d made, and the steel-eyed man from the living room was sitting across the table from her and mechanically moving oatmeal to his mouth and ingesting it.
Mr. Savoie and the three other guys with the twitchy trigger fingers were eating farther down the table.
The last guy at the table was the one in the black hoodie sweatshirt. He hunched over his bowl, and Sarah caught a flash of the mirrored sunglasses he still wore inside his hood.
When Magnus Jensen finished, he stared at Blaze and her. “You have to leave.”
Blaze set down his spoon and leaned back in his chair. “This house withstood the attack.”
“They got in here once. They know how to hack your security system and the house’s weaknesses. Others will know how, too. You can’t continue this defense situation indefinitely. It’s sunrise. Our vehicles will flank yours to ensure you evac from the city area without mishap. Pack what you need and go.”
Blaze nodded.
“What are your options?” Magnus asked.
“My farm in Iowa,” Sarah offered. “I can go home. You can come, too,” Sarah said to Blaze.
Magnus shook his head. “Also compromised.”
“So, there are other options. We could stay with one of my friends in Kalona,” she said to everyone at the table.
“The White Russians’ killers have already inquired at your neighbors’ farms about you,” Blaze said. “You’d be putting them in danger.”
Yeah, Sarah couldn’t ask that of her friends. Most of them had little kids. When the hitmen came asking, those rugrats would blurt that she and Blaze were in the back room. “So, we could get on a plane and fly somewhere. Just leave town for a week or so. The airport here is called O’Hare, right?”
Blaze looked at his mostly empty bowl, frowning. “We can’t fly anywhere.”
“But, why not? I mean, I can pay for my own ticket.”
No, she couldn’t afford something like that, even with the fifteen thousand dollars Blaze had given her, which oh-no-oh-no, she’d left lying on the table when she’d run out of the house and into the arms of the Russian mafia hitmen.
It was gone. Surely, those Russian jerks searched her house and stole it.
“What’s wrong?” Blaze asked.
“Nothing. But I could put a plane ticket on a credit card. I have one for deliveries.” Even though the card was in the credenza back at home.
Blaze sighed. “You should probably check on the status of your cards. There’ve been some cyberattacks on my bank accounts.”
Sarah grumbled at him, “I can’t. I don’t have my phone.”
His sideways glance was less chagrin and more like he’d picked up on her sarcasm. “I’ll get it.”
Blaze stood, walked back toward the kitchen, and then turned toward the stairs, leaving the rest of them eating at the table.
Spoons scraped bowls as the men methodically but rapidly ate as if they had been trained to do everything efficiently.
Sarah ate four mouthfuls of apple pie oatmeal, trying to think of something to say to make conversation with the stoic men around the table.
Blaze laid her phone on the table beside her bowl and then returned to his meal, eating with the same quick pace and efficient movements as the rest.
Sarah snatched her phone up from the table and tapped the banking app.
The red letters OVERDRAWN stood out against the blue background, and her credit card’s available balance was zero.
Next month’s payment was more than the farm produced in a year. “Oh my stars!”
“I’ll take care of it,” Blaze told her. “Rogue Security’s computer specialist is right here. After breakfast, we’ll give him your information and let him handle it. No matter what happens, I’ll cover it, okay?”
