“It says she’s at some used car lot now,” Lance said, his voice far away like he was looking at his phone while speaking. “Why is she in a car lot?”
“I think whoever called her wants money. Do you have her bank information? Can we do a transfer?” I asked while getting into my car and pulling out of the lot.
“Do we really want to do that? We shouldn’t negotiate with gangbangers, Decker. Let’s find her first.”
“We don’t have time!” I yelled into the phone while punching my steering wheel. “I don’t want her showing up there without enough cash. She’s being impulsive, and I wouldn’t put it past her to show up with whatever she has, and them punishing her for it not being enough.”
Lance went quiet for a moment before answering. “You’re right. I’m still waiting for the detective to call me back, too.”
“Send me her bank info, and I’ll wire two hundred grand to her account. Do you think that’s enough?”
“Shit, Decker. That’s a lot of money.”
“I don’t care. Keep sending me her location. The plan is to find her before she goes to them, but if we don’t find her, we want her to be prepared, okay?” Once again, Lance went quiet.
“Decker, what’s going on with you and my sister? I know you care, but this…”
I didn’t have time for this conversation, but now was better than ever to admit what I felt. “I’m in love with your sister, Lance. I’ve been in love with her since the moment she knocked on your door. You’re my brother, but she’s my soul. My fucking soul. We can talk about this later, and you can kick my ass if you want, but I’m going to make sure she’s safe first.”
Lance didn’t answer me immediately. I knew he was storming with betrayal and trying to figure out how to respond. I could practically feel his hurt through the phone. It killed me that it came out this way, but I was done hiding. I was done thinking I wasn’t good enough and letting anything hold us back. “Find her first, Decker. Then, we’ll talk.”
He hung up the phone and sent me the address of the car dealership she was supposedly at. Something told me she was selling her Toyota. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed that way. No more waiting on the sidelines. No more cowering. Blakely Stewart was mine, and I’d go to hell and back to save her.
32
Blakely
I blinked at the numbers on my receipt. No fucking way. “This can’t be right,” I said to the bank teller. I sold my car for seven hundred dollars; its only value was in scrap metal. Last I’d checked, I had three thousand dollars in savings. Two grand from pawning off everything of value I owned combined with the cash from my car. I’d been willing the number to magically increase all afternoon, and now that I was at the bank, I wondered if God finally decided to answer my prayers.
“You had a wire transfer from someone named Decker Harris thirty-five minutes ago equaling two hundred thousand dollars,” the teller said while typing away on her computer. My mouth dropped open in shock, and I had to shake my head to get rid of the disbelief. How did he know?
A whispered reassurance answered my unspoken question: Decker Harris always knows.
I started fumbling for my phone and winced when I saw the numerous ignored calls and texts from Lance, Decker, and Max. I felt terrible and childish, knowing that I should have made more of an effort to reach out to them, I just didn’t see any other way. I wasn’t willing to risk my father’s life. I had to play by their rules and pray it worked.
“Do you still want to withdraw everything?” she then asked, forcing me to snap my attention back to her.
“Um,” I mumbled, not sure if I wanted to actually use Decker’s money. It felt so incredibly wrong. But desperate people did desperate things. “Just fifty thousand, please. In cash.”
Her lips pursed as she looked me up and down. She had orange-blonde hair and overly full lips. She was getting on my damn nerves. “I’ll need management approval.”
“Then I suggest you call your management,” I growled. I was running out of time. I had to be across town in an hour and didn’t want to think of what would happen to Dad if I was late. Every tick of the clock was another second that my father was in danger. An hour ago, my contact sent me another photo of Dad, this time with his hand bent at an odd angle. It looked broken, but I couldn’t know for sure. The words accompanying the text were painfully clear.
Tell no one.
“Blakely!” I spun around and nearly fell apart. Decker looked worse for wear as he jogged over to me. Bankers and patrons stared curiously at us as he wrapped me in a hug. “I’m so fucking glad I found you.”
I welcomed the feel of his skin, his pounding pulse roaring against mine as he squeezed me tightly. The last time I saw Decker was still blatantly clear in my mind, but I pushed it away. I needed this—needed him. But I knew this intimacy was fleeting, so I reveled in it. “How did you know where I was?” I asked.
“Max told me what happened and then Lance pinged your phone’s location. I went to the pawnshop and the car dealership. I kept missing you and was worried I’d be too late. They want money, don’t they?” he asked.
“They have him, Decker. They have my dad.” My words were constricted from the emotions strangling me. It felt freeing to share the burden of this news with someone but terrifying, too. “They’re going to hurt him,” I added. My fumbling hands lifted up my cell phone to show him the image that was burned in my brain. He took in Dad’s swollen, bloody face and the dark room he was tied up in.
“Fuck, Blakely. Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked as the bank teller walked up to her station with a manager.
“With everything that’s happened, I just…”
“I will always be there for you, Blakely. I don’t care what is going on.”
“Ma’am,” the bank teller interrupted us. “We need your signature to approve the withdrawal.”
I gave Decker a look before signing the paper she had thrust in front of my face. Fifty thousand dollars was more money than I’d ever seen in my life. I couldn’t even fathom the amount. It made me sick as they counted the cash in front of us. Soon, they were placing it in Decker’s briefcase, and we were walking outside.
“Thank you for that,” I mumbled, pride making a burning shame fill my chest. “I’ll pay you back. I don’t care how long it takes.” Conviction clung to my words as we made our way to his car. I didn’t want to use Decker’s money, but I didn’t see any other choice. It made me perpetually sick to know that I’d owe him for the foreseeable future. Decker hated parasitic people, and I never wanted to be someone that used him.
“I don’t care about the money, Blakely,” he whispered softly while placing a hand at my lower back. I wasn’t even sure he realized he was touching me. It was just instinctual.
“But I do. I’m going to pay you back. I promise,” I replied in earnest.
“We can talk about it later,” Decker said before opening the passenger door to his car for me.
“Okay,” I replied, feeling numb and helpless.