I give him a clipped nod and pull him into my side, wrapping my arm around him. “It won’t happen again.”
He pushes away and straightens his suit jacket. “Good. Because that’s the only warning I will give you. Let me live out the rest of my old life in peace.”
I chuckle and walk to the front door. Jude’s footsteps fall in line behind me, but I ignore them. I’ll get this meeting done, then I won’t have to see his face for at least a week.
Chapter Thirteen
Easton
When the plane lands, I grip the handles of my seat. I fucking hate flying. I can feel the wheels bouncing off the tarmac, jolting us around slightly, and it makes me want to puke. The tires screech, but it’s a muffled sound outside the cabin of the plane. I know we’re almost landed and stopped and I can get out of this constricting contraption.
I push my head back into the seat and take a deep breath as it slows, thankful no Final Destination shit happened. The attendant exits the front of the cabin and makes her way to where Jude and I sit, only separated by a small walkway.
“We’ve landed successfully in Arlington, Virginia. You’re now able to disembark and enter the car waiting for you.” Her smile is forced and too sweet, but I don’t think about it too long. This is probably the last time we will see her.
I unhook my seat belt and stand, hurrying to the back of the plane where the exit door is located. It’s already open, with another attendant standing by it wearing the same forced smile. I slip past her and take the small steps two at a time until my feet hit the pavement. I breathe a sigh of relief when the cool air hits my face.
“Such a fucking pussy,” Jude quips from behind me.
I turn and face him, letting the anger I still feel simmer under the surface. “Humans are not meant to fly, Jude. If we were, whoever the fuck created us would have given us wings. It’s unnatural and fucking weird, so, shove your comments up your ass.”
I leave him standing in his spot and slide into the back of the Rolls-Royce waiting to take us to wherever Dad instructs. In this case, Barron Harway’s house.
I see Jude circle the back of the car from the corner of my eye, so I shift to face out the window and pop in the AirPods sitting on the console. I didn’t want to do this in the first place, but since I have to, I’d like to enjoy the small amount of peace before shit hits the fan.
We crawl to a stop in front of a luxury single-family home. It’s evening time, though not too late. The sun has gone down, but kids still play in the street. It’s a quiet neighborhood filled with other large multi-level homes. It’s nice here, a place meant for upscale society: doctors, lawyers, maybe even other politicians.
Jude is out of the car before me, grabbing his pistol and placing it behind his back. I follow suit, being sure to cover my weapon with the tail of my blazer. I take in my surroundings, a wave of unfamiliar emotions washing over me.
I sigh and push out a breath. We’re here to do one thing—a job we’ve done a million times over. So why am I nervous? Jude looks at me, disappointment lining his gaze.
I huff.
Maybe it’s disgust—disdain for the fight, for caring more than I need to.
The concrete drive is the first thing we notice. A brand-new C-Class Benz sits in front of the attached garage. It’s at a lower level than the rest of the house with stairs that meet up with the steps that lead from the sidewalk. The exterior is covered in multi-colored brick with large windows. They’re tinted enough to keep us from seeing inside, but a dim light shines through, only enough of a glow to know there’s someone in there.
The house isn’t hiding behind a gate or a guard shack. It’s completely open and easy to walk up to. It proves how safe the residents feel. No one worries about the things that go bump in the night. A community that probably trusts each other more than I do my own brother right now.
I smile with that thought. This is going to make our job so much easier.
“How do you wanna do this?” I ask when I step onto the curb.
“We will go through the front. Based on my intel, he’s home every night, alone. Probably sitting down for a shot of scotch and a cigar as we speak. Cops don’t really come through here that much—we can thank these uppity-ass neighbors for that. But they are hella responsive, so in and out,” Jude responds while squaring his shoulders and fixing his suit jacket on his large frame.
He throws something at me, and I catch it with one hand.
“What’s this?” I quiz, my brows knitted up tight.
“The blueprints—you know, just in case.” He shrugs and takes the stairs two at a time.
I grind my teeth and roll my eyes but quickly study them anyway. This is something I could have done alone if I knew it would be this easy to get to him, but I know there was no way in hell Dad would let that happen. He knows my loyalty is teetering between him and Arloe, which was a rookie mistake by me.
I should have done exactly what he raised us to do—show no emotion and never get attached. I shouldn’t have fucked her last night—but I did, and now she’s my vice.
And my father knows that. He saw it the moment Jude shared with him that I let her walk away that first night. I fucked up—another mistake. Now he knows things about her, things about her family he can use to his advantage.
Barron is loaded. Old money, and from what we’ve gathered, a broken relationship with his one and only daughter. Pops wants to exploit that, anything to have a rich city official in his pocket, and furthermore, a hefty share in a lodging empire.
And he’s sent me here to make that happen, to get me back under his thumb. He knows that by pulling the strings with Arloe, he in turns plays me like a puppet. But whatever it takes, right? Family over everything, even if I have to break the heart of the one person I care about.
“I got this, Jude.”
I cover the doorbell camera with my hand before knocking, then wait for him to open the door. From what we’ve gathered, he’s a single man, has no personal security at home, and should be watching his stupid reality TV right about now.
As the door slides open, I put a smile on my face and cross my wrists in front of me.
His face appears, and I’m taken aback with how much Arloe resembles him. They have the same hair color, same round face, and the same pointed nose.
“Can I help you?” He matches my smile, and it almost makes me feel bad for what I know I have to do.
“Evening, sir. My name is Easton Ciccone, and if you don’t know me, please let me come in and introduce myself.”
He tips his head, letting confusion lace his features. “I’ve never heard of the Ciccones.”
“Perfect,” Jude chirps, a little too excitedly, and pushes his way inside.
I groan in frustration and follow him in before closing the door. “Let us explain,” I try, but it falls on deaf ears.
“No.” His head shakes vigorously. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave or I’m calling the police.”
Jude chuckles. “That will be hard to do with no phone.” He holds up the cellphone he probably snatched pushing past him, then smashes it on the floor.
His eyes bounce between us knowing he’s trapped. I mean, who would try to run from two men who look like us? Not only is he outnumbered, but in this day and age, who even keeps a landline?