Page 89 of Running to You

“He’s been out of town, but he heard what happened from Dad and called me as soon as he landed.”

“Why’d he call you?”

“I assume he called you first.”

Sam had gotten a couple of calls while they were at the police station but hadn’t checked. He did now, and sure enough, there was a message from Michael.

And four from his current client, along with an angry text.

This is what you call concierge service? I need you to call me back. Pronto.

Sam had sent him the buyers’ most recent offer the night before. Apparently, his client wasn’t impressed with his advice that he should accept their terms.

He tapped out a quick response.

Family emergency. I’ll call you as soon as I can.

It was the rare moment when Sam put his clients off. Business had become paramount in his life.

But there were more important things than closing deals. He put his phone away.

“Michael rented a car at Logan,” Grant was saying, “and he’s on his way. We’re meeting him in Concord. You’ll take his rental, and he’ll drive the Porsche back to Colton’s.”

“And make himself a target?”

“Chances they’ll see him are slim. And he’ll be alone in the car. They’re not going to mess with him.”

The last thing Sam wanted was help from Michael. And anyway… “It’s not my car. I can’t just let Michael—”

“Already talked to Colton,” Grant said, “and he’s fine with it.”

“You’ve got this all figured out.” Sam didn’t mean to sound so…grouchy. But he didn’t like needing his brothers’ help. Or anyone’s.

“You’re welcome,” Grant said, not a little sarcastically.

“Sorry. Thank you.”

Beside him, Eliza crossed her arms as if she was barely holding herself together. Half of him wanted to pull her close and comfort her.

The other half couldn’t stop thinking…Levi.

He wanted to go back to Colton’s. To put his feet up and drink a beer and listen to her story and make a plan. But… “We can’t go back to the cabin, can we?”

“Why not?” Eliza sounded heartbroken.

He knew how she felt.

“Colton’s car,” he said. “Colton’s cabin.”

“Then no,” Grant said.

Eliza practically withered.

“I’ll get you a safe house.”

Sam wished he could tell Grant that he’d manage it. That he didn’t need his little brother’s help. But he was wrung out. Aching and bruised. And way, way out of his league.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN