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“We won’t, I promise.” He pulled back and held her eyes. “I have a plan for how we can get her out of The Outlaw before they move her—I know where she’s at, but we need to act quickly. Marshal’s getting impatient. They’ve been covertly tracking me, hoping you’ll contact me, and I’ve been capitalizing on that, listening to their radio conversations in return. We need to go out that exit door now, take my car to The Outlaw, and sneak in the employee entrance. The pair of us together can distract the guards and get her out, especially since they won’t be expecting it. We’ll park my car in the back employee lot and peel out as soon as we free her.”
Genevieve wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her baby blue blouse and glanced over her shoulder, looking to see if Manning’s security guards were nearby. “I need to bring reinforcements with us. It would be stupid for me to act impulsively and walk out of here without backup.”
“Gen, they’re moving her now. If you ask others to help us, it’s going to take time to convince them to act, won’t it? And then what? How will we ever find her?”
She hesitated, nibbling on her lip. “You’re right. They’ll want to come up with one of their comprehensive plans, and by then, it might be too late.”
“Let’s go,” Archer whispered. “If you and I rescue your mom, we’re free to go. I want this settled so I can have my best friend back. Once we get her out, we can run—the three of us. I bought a gun and knife at a pawn shop a few days ago, and I’ll bet you’re armed, too. We’ve got this.”
Archer clearly didn’t realize Brendan was in her life, but she’d let him know after they rescued her mom. There wasn’t time to explain.
Genevieve wrapped her arms around Archer’s neck, whispering into his ear, “Let’s go get my mom out, bestie, and once we take down Jed’s network, we’ll go on a weekend retreat every other month, just the two of us.”
“Heck, yeah, we will.” Archer nodded. “Let’s go get her. Operation Stick it to Marshal commencing.”
“Operation Cut the Head off the Snake. Momma, here we come!”
Archer wrinkled his brow. “Huh?”
“Never mind.” Genevieve pointed toward the emergency exit door. “Let’s roll.”
“Now we’re talking.” Archer’s lips curled into a broad grin.
Eighteen
BRENDAN
An hour into the meeting with a panel from the FBI and Drug Enforcement Agency, a knock sounded on the boardroom door.
Please be Genevieve. Her testimony would help move things along—to have someone previously connected to the inside operations verifying their word along with all the other witnesses they’d collected from Manning Cole’s network and around town. Brendan understood her aversion to delving into the details of her ex’s crimes, so he hadn’t pressed.
Manning’s head of security, Farris, marched into the room, his full red beard and bald head somehow amplifying the stoutness of his brawny frame. “Mr. Cole, sir, I require an immediate private audience with you and Mr. King.”
Brendan’s heart lodged in his ribs. He’d been waiting for this—Jed Marshall’s retaliation. All the intel they’d gained showcased how he wasn’t a patient man. Marshal covering up Brendan’s involvement with the flash grenades rather than going straight for him had downright impressed him. It demonstrated that Marshal had some intelligence mixed in with his ruthlessness, but should he really be surprised? The man would have to be not only smart but creative to take on Genevieve.
Brendan had an uneasy feeling in his gut when Genevieve had wanted to go shopping alone, but he would never attempt to control her. She was a clever, independent woman who could make her own sound decisions. He’d voice his opinions, but every choice she made would always be hers regardless of whether some of them drove him wild with worry. He closed his eyes and sent out a prayer for her safety.
Popping his lids open, Brendan glanced at his knuckle-headed best bro. “Quill, can you please join us?”
Quill nodded, letting out a relieved breath.
As much as Brendan wanted to knock some sense into him regarding Genevieve, he knew that Quill only wanted the best for him—they just currently disagreed on what that was.
They followed Farris into a security control room, and Brendan tugged on his dress shirt collar. After popping the top button loose, he took off his suit jacket, tossed it over the back of a swiveling office chair, and wiped the fresh beads of sweat from his brow with his white shirt cuff. Whatever this was about, it wasn’t good. Please let Genevieve be safe.
Farris nodded at a surveillance officer who adjusted his glasses in a fidgety gesture not much different from his own. The surveillance officer nodded in response, released his round lenses, and motioned toward a large flatscreen. A video clip began to play, and ice shot through Brendan’s veins as a tall, slender man with aqua-colored hair jogged up to Genevieve and pulled her into a side hallway. Their conversation quickly resulted in an intimate embrace, followed by Genevieve willingly leaving The Golden Star with him through an emergency exit door.
Brendan faltered, grabbing onto the back of the chair that he’d draped with his suit jacket. Was Quill right? Did Genevieve plan to betray him all along? Why else would she walk into potential danger without contacting him first? It didn’t make sense. The blood drained from his face as another agonizing thought entered his brain. Was it possible he’d been duped by a carefully crafted escape plan with one of her ex-lovers?
Too stunned to speak, Brendan vaguely registered that all eyes were on him. He clenched his jaw, looking first at Manning’s unreadable face, followed by Quill’s bitter one. Yeah, I’ve got no fucking clue, guys, but I’ll risk ending up on my deathbed to find out. He took in some air, guilt washing over him. There’s an explanation. There has to be. She loves me. I know it. He dropped his head, spinning his wheels.
“Audio, please,” Manning ground out in an irate tone.
Not so unreadable after all, Brendan thought, cracking a weak grin. He wasn’t too surprised, knowing that he’d earned a lot of respect in the man’s eyes. Everyone here wanted the best for him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Cole,” the surveillance officer returned. “The man must have had an audio jammer on him. All we got from their conversation was muted static.”
Brendan’s head popped up. “Audio jammer?”
