Page 56 of Save Me

Mac steps into the house behind me, his footfalls heavy, but he doesn't say anything. He just watches me, those perceptive eyes following my every move.

"Jackson, if you're listening, this is Brantley Hill," I say, lifting my voice so it booms through the house. I want to make sure their bug picks it up, wherever they hid it. "Our deal is off, you motherfucker. You sent your people after her, so you get to pay the price. You won't see a goddamn dime of what my father owed you." I pause. "And you better fucking run if you aren't already, because I'm releasing every goddamn thing I know. Including your name."

I doubt the threat scares the prick, but it should. I gave him a chance to walk away. He didn't take it. He tried to have Isla's sister killed. His whole goddamn organization will pay for that. It'll be my fucking mission in life.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, not surprised when I see the number Jackson gave me flashing across the display.

I put it on speaker so Mac can hear what he has to say, too.

"What the fuck do you want?" I growl.

"They weren't acting on my orders, Hill," he says, his voice tight. "I ordered them to leave her alone, but they saw an opportunity and took it anyway."

"They're your men," I remind him. "That makes it your goddamn problem. They tried to kill her."

"I know. It wasn't supposed to happen."

"I'm not paying you."

He's quiet for a long moment. "We know where she is, Hill. And she isn't the only sister. She has a twin." He pauses. "But you already know that, don't you? You've been fucking her."

A growl rumbles in Mac's throat.

"I'll rip your fucking organization apart at the seams," I snarl, my grip tightening on the phone. "You come near Isla or her sister again, and it'll be the last thing any of you ever do."

"Jackson," Mac says, a thread of iron in his voice as he plucks the phone from my hand. "This is Mac Sterling."

"Sterling," Jackson says, wariness seeping down the line.

"You're going to want to rethink threatening my daughters," he says, his voice deathly calm. "You'll want to rethink whatever bullshit you're considering right now, too. Because my people have one of your men, and he's been spilling your secrets all day. We know who you get your drugs from. We know who you have in your pocket. We know who owes you favors. And we know which of your sons kills for you."

Jackson doesn't say a word.

"Fuck with my family, and we'll destroy yours," Mac says. "And just so we're clear, Brantley and his mother are my family. They're off limits too. Do not test me. I sent my own wife to prison for fucking with my family. Don't think I won't rip yours apart."

He jabs the button, disconnecting the call, and then calmly hands my phone back to me before jerking his head toward the kitchen.

I follow him that way, neither of us speaking as we pass through the massive, airy room and then out into the landscaped backyard. We walk several yards away from the house before Mac mutters a curse, spinning to face me.

"I'm half tempted to destroy him and his family just because he threatened the girls," he growls, pacing back and forth.

"You and me both."

"Think he'll back off?"

"He isn't stupid," I murmur. "And men like him have all kinds of skeletons they'd prefer to keep hidden. If you have one of his men and he's talking, he won't want to risk any of those skeletons falling out of the closet." I'm the voice of fucking experience on that shit. My father was just like Jackson. And men like that? They'll take any deal to keep the truth from leaking, especially if it means they might lose the power they live for. "His threat was a last-ditch effort to salvage our dealbecause he wants that money. He knows the police are going to be knocking on his door soon. My guess is that he intended to use it to disappear and leave his people to clean up the mess."

"Well, he fucked that up," Mac mutters

I snort because he isn't wrong.

"Why were you going to pay him, Brantley?" Mac hits me with a hard look. "And don't bullshit me. I want the truth."

I blow out a breath, shoving my hands into my pockets to hide the way they shake. "My father was a prick," I say. "The shit he did…well, the world is better off without him. No one believes that, but it's the truth. The day they caught up with him, I saw them slipping into the parking garage. Didn't know who they were or what they wanted, and I didn't really fucking care to find out. I just left. And when I found out he was dead, I didn't mourn."

Mac eyes me, not speaking.

"But I didn't know about Bella. When I found out that she saw them kill him, I felt like a fucking asshole," I admit. "I've felt like one ever since. I guess I thought paying them would quiet the guilt, make me feel like someone worthy of Isla."

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