Page 58 of Fighting for Valor
“And?” Wren huffs as she wedges a hand on her hip and looks from Ry to Dax to me. “What about Cara? And I thought Ripper adopted a dog?”
The rage sparks, then catches flame, spreading out from my core until I whirl around, grab Ry’s shoulder, and land a punch to his jaw. He doesn’t move, and I rear back for another go until Dax grabs my arms. I growl an oath and shove him away, and he tumbles over the back of the couch, coming up on his feet and banging into the low table with two laptops and the remnants of a long, sleepless night: coffee mugs, protein bar wrappers, and crumpled pieces of paper.
“Calm the fudgsicles down right now before you destroy my equipment,” Wren snaps.
I hear her, but Ry’s next words fade away as I stare at one of the laptop screens. A man’s photo sits next to a wall of text, and his eyes…I know those eyes. Pushing Ry, then Dax out of the way, I grab the laptop.
“Hey, get your hands off—”
“Wait, sweetheart,” Ry says.
Sinking down onto the couch with the computer in my hands, I stare at the man—Jessup, according to the name under the photo—and will my broken brain to work.
“As you can see, my compound is quite secure,” Faruk says as he walks through the courtyard with Jessup.
“And him?”
Faruk chuckles. “Isaad is loyal. He knows what will happen to him if he fails me.”
I lower my head. Jessup’s eyes unnerve me. As if he knows some secret I don’t.
“Do you have the transfer information?” Faruk asks.
“Here. See to it the money’s in place within twenty-four hours of receiving the shipment.”
“Watch your tone, Mr. Jessup. You are in my home, and you will be respectful.” Faruk turns to me. “Isaad, when the latest sale is completed, transfer fifteen percent of the proceeds here.”
“Yes, Amir Faruk, sir. Of course.” With the paper clutched in my hand, I rush as quickly as I can back to my little office. Jessup…I don’t know who he is, but I know he’s a danger to me.
“Rip?” Dax. He’s keeping his voice low, but the familiar southern twang is enough to bring me back. “Rip, what is it?”
“I remember him. And I think I know what he wants.” I set Wren’s laptop back on the table and run a hand through my hair. Breathe. You’re safe. With your brothers. And you’re going to find Cara and Charlie.
“What?” Ry asks.
“Money. A lot of it. When you killed Faruk, you cut off a huge amount of Jessup’s income. And there were,” I rub the back of my neck, willing my jumbled memories to untangle themselves, “at least half a dozen transactions in process when he threw me into the well.”
A puzzle piece clicks into place, then another, and another. But not enough to see the picture. To know what the hell to do next. I’m only certain of one thing.
“I need to do this alone, Ry.” Wobbling to my feet, I face my two best friends—my family. “Where I’m going, I can’t have you with me.”
“Not a chance.” He takes a step towards the door, but I shake my head.
“You don’t understand—”
“Then explain it to me.”
Rolling my eyes, I stalk over to him so we’re only a few inches apart. “That’s what I’m trying to do, asshole.” Before I can, though, my phone rings. I forgot it was in my pocket, and Cara’s name flashes across the screen.
“Are you okay, sunshine?” I ask.
“I’m afraid sunshine isn’t going to be okay ever again unless you do exactly what I say.” The thin voice holds a note of a sneer, and I grip the back of Ry’s couch hard enough my knuckles turn white.
In my periphery, Ry motions to Wren, who darts over to her laptop and starts furiously typing.
“Jessup, what have you done to her? Where is she? And where’s my fucking dog?”
The phone buzzes with an incoming video, and my vision tunnels as I stare at the screen. Cara’s sitting on a dirty floor, her ankles tied, her wrists handcuffed around a yellow pipe coming out of the wall at an angle. Dried blood stains her chin, and one of her sleeves is ripped, exposing deep bruises on her arm. Her chest stutters with each breath, and another man—Parr, I’m assuming—holds a pistol to her head.
