Page 29 of Captive Lies

He also knew he had to tell his father and soon. Grant would beat himself up if he ruined his dad’s chances for another run at the senate. The dossier he had on Blaire and Liam had been forged. Further digging into their background yielded falsified information. Their fingerprints weren’t in the FBI database. There was no record of a Blaire Callahan at the high school in the file. Her parents did not exist. No wonder she put him off about meeting them. As for Liam, he was supposed to be a product of the foster care system, but that was rigged as well. Grant hoped they were in some kind of witness protection, although the guns and the multiple passports nullified thatidea.

He’d been brooding so deeply, he didn’t realize that two men had flanked him before it was too late. A barrel of a gun poked hisribs.

“Do as you’re told, Mr. Thorne, and you won’t be hurt,” one of the men said. That they knew his name meant this was not some random mugging. Grant immediately thought of his father and their security briefings he failed to pay close attention to. He’d left them mostly to Jake, but he’d sent the guy toDC.

He cocked his head at the speaker on his right and noticed belatedly that he had an accent … and a pronounced hawk nose. His cohort on his left wore a fedora pulled low that concealed most of the guy’s face. Despite Grant’s grim situation, anticipation churned inside him. Maybe this had nothing to do with the threat against the senator, but it had everything to do with Blaire. He couldn’t alert Tyler just yet because Fedora guy was holding on to his arm where he wore his security watch. They led him into a dark alley just a block from the hotel. Fedora man immediately slammed him against the wall and punched him in the gut. Grant coughed and hunched over, gritted his teeth, and discreetly twisted the dial on his watch to signal Tyler that he was introuble.

“Where’s Paulina, mu’dak?” Fedora guyhissed.

“You idiot, he knows her as Blaire,” Hawk-nose corrected and smacked his partner upside the head. Grant wanted to ram their heads together, but keeping them talking was the betteroption.

“I don’t know. She left me,” he informedthem.

“She was stupid to get involved with you. A senator’s son,” Hawk-nose cackled maliciously. “Let’s see how much she cares foryou.”

Hawk-nose swung at him and Grant managed to block the blow. Fedora man’s ham-sized fist crashed against Grant’s cheek and another jab to his stomach sent him staggering. Just as the goon was about to kick him, he grabbed and twisted the other man’s ankle and flipped him onto the ground. Hawk-nose drew his gun, but Grant went low and slammed his shoulder against the man’s gut, sending both of them crashing to the pavement. Hawk-nose’s gun clattered to theside.

Grant recovered faster and went for the other man’s weapon, rolling on his back and instinctively pointing his gun at Fedora man who had his own firearm aimed at Grant. Hawk-nose picked himself up from the ground and was in the act of unholstering another firearm from hisankle.

Fuck.

Footsteps rushed from behind him and judging from his attackers’ expression, Tyler hadarrived.

What followed was a blur of movements and explosion ofgunfire.

Grant felt a burning sting to his arm as his assailants fell to the ground. Standing up, he walked over to them with gun still raised, but he lowered his arm when he saw their condition. Grant had put a hole through Fedora man’s gun hand, but Tyler had put a bullet between each man’seyes.

Well,fuck.

It would beanother three hours before Grant returned to the brownstone with Tyler who grimly walked ahead of him. After getting patched up by an EMT, Grant, together with his bodyguard, made a statement to the police explaining that it was an attemptedmugging.

Grant crashed on the couch, grunting his appreciation when Tyler brought him a glass of Scotch that he tossedback.

“You know who those men were?” his security person askedtightly.

He shook his head. “Not really, but they hadinformation.”

“About Ms.Callahan?”

Grant nodded. “They’re after her. My guess? They’re hoping that roughing me up will flush herout.”

Tyler emitted a frustrated huff. “I shouldn’t have agreed to let youwalk.”

“Tonight was not yourfault.”

“You’re myresponsibility.”

“You did your job,” Grant muttered. “Quitethoroughly.”

His bodyguard’s jaw hardened. “You’re pissed I killedthem.”

“It’s done, Tyler. Drop it.” Grant wanted them alive for questioning, but he could hardly blame his bodyguard for doing hisjob.

“Donovan’s coming back tomorrow,” his man told him. “We’ll review your security detail includingexpectations.”

Before Grant could reply, his phone, which was on the coffee table, vibrated. It was a blocked number. Both he and Tyler exchanged glances. Grant nodded, giving the signal to have ittraced.

“Thorne.”

---