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Chapter Eleven
Alana
I call my mother and set-up a time to stop by and see her later this evening, and not long later, the group of us are on the road. The ride feels long, and Damion has to calm me down several times, and with good reason. Now that my mother is on my mind, I realize my grave mistake in believing she was safe. I’d thought there was no way West Senior would hurt her, not when he’d just killed my father, not when the world would be watching. But Blake’s superhero complex comment about Damion’s father only served to drive home where Damion’s fears are rooted.
He knows his father.
And his father is dangerous and will do what others would not dare.
As eager as I am to get “home” to the apartment where I live with Damion and should never have left, the stop by my mother’s place is first. Walker has a private plane on standby to whisk my mother off to a private location in Italy where West Senior will not be able to locate her. I’ll arrive by a private car driven by a member of Walker Security that will wait on me. There will be discreet security nearby. Everything will be fine.
Until it’s not.
Damion and I part ways a few blocks from the building, and it’s not a gentle goodbye. He kisses me and strokes my hair behind my ear. “Get in and get out.”
“I will. I’ll be fine. I just hope I can actually convince her to go to Italy.”
“What exactly is the plan to scare her into hiding?”
“I’m going to convince her the FBI is planning to charge her with crimes my father committed. I’m going to tell her she has to get out of town while my attorney goes to work for her.”
“You don’t think that will make her run to my father?”
“Not if I convince her he’s behind it all.”
“Baby, I don’t know if you can win that battle. She’s under his spell.”
“It’ll work. I know it will work.”
“You think your mother will leave the country to escape the FBI?”
“She’s not logical. She won’t think of it as running, but rather hiding. And hiding to her is not the same thing. It’s what she’s done with your father. She hid from her husband and her marriage.”
He studies me a moment and nods. “I trust your judgment with your mother, but, baby, I need you to trust mine with my father.”
I kiss him. “I will. I gotta go. I need this over with.” I reach for the door, and he pulls me back, kissing me deeply, before he says, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Just a few minutes later, I’m in the back of a black sedan with a driver named “Joey” behind the wheel. Joey is much like the other men of Walker Security in that he’s big, fit, and charming. His hair is plentiful, light brown, and wavy, and his smile infectious. “We got this,” he promises with a wink.
I nod and sink into my seat. “Yes. Yes, we do.” And because I need my mind off all the things that could go wrong, I ask, “How long have you been with Walker Security?”
He pulls us into traffic. “Two years. I was in the military for ten, and then the ATF for just as long.”
“Why’d you join Walker?”
“Same reason most of us do. We’re sick and fucking tired of working for the wrong people for the wrong reasons.” He eyes me in the mirror. “You’re going to be okay. We’ll make sure of it.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I believe you.”
We halt at a stoplight, and he hands me a coin. “It’s good luck. I would be dead if not for that coin a few times over. You take it.”
I laugh. “You think the coin saved your life?”
“I played baseball in college. We’re superstitious people. Take it. My luck is your luck.”
“Oh no, I can’t take your lucky coin.”
