Page 57 of Running Scared
Bailey kept reliving that moment for the rest of the day after he left Reg’s frighteningly up-to-date computer room and retreated to his own bedroom, where Mr.Bumble waited for him to lavish attention upon his soft, white-furred body.He’d been told the room had once been Laure’s, and she’d told him over dinner that the best part of being the only girl was getting her own bedroom, even if it was small.Once she’d moved out, it had been furnished with a queen-sized bed and a dresser and—her mother had been happy to point out—a new area rug in wild shades of purple and green.The comforter on top was worn, with purple flowers, and the walls were cream with some faded, framed prints.It was a comfortable place, much like the house itself, and because it was one of the few places in which everything matched, Bailey wondered if it was for special company.
The thought sent a wave of affection for Dean’s family roaring through his heart.They weren’t rich or educated—but by God the Royal family wasfine.And noble.And all of the things a family was supposed to be.
He sat on that bedspread—soft, cotton, practical, and pretty—and wiped his burning eyes on his shoulder as he petted his cat and fell painfully in love with Dean’s family.
He wanted to share this revelation with Dean himself, and the fear—the reality—that he might never get a chance to almost leveled him.
Which was when something in him snapped.
He took out his phone and pulled up Val Royal’s number.
He got Rory McCauley instead, which was fine, because that’s who he wanted to talk to.
“Heya, Doc,” Rory said.“Val’s driving.What’s on your mind?”
“It’s been five days,” Bailey told him.
“I know it.”
“Is this normal?I don’t think this is normal.”
“For two agents to be out of contact?No, it is not normal,” Rory replied, and he sounded cagey, but he was probably trying to not freak Val out.Bailey could appreciate that, but he was so far beyond freaked out, he thought he’d rather like Val to join him.
“Where are you?”he asked bluntly.
“About to drop off a load to El Paso,” Rory said.“Why?”
“Because Dean and Marcus have been stuck about a hundred miles south of Juarez for the last four days,” Bailey said bluntly.“And I want to go find them.”
“And you would know thathow?”For the first time Rory McCauley sounded surprised, and Bailey was so far beyond terrified that he didn’t care what secrets he spilled.
“Because Reg tracked his phone, on his computer with all this special unregistered stuff I’m not supposed to know about.But we can see a little blinking dot that is Dean.And it has been more or less still for the last four days.”
“So…,” Rory said slowly, “what is it you propose to do?”
“I propose to charter a small plane to Juarez, rent a car, andfind that motherfucking dot!”Bailey almost shouted.“But if you guys are closer, you might be able to beat us there.”
Rory grunted.“Son, I’ve got a number you can call for an outfit in Napa.Tell Glen Echo it’s me and that he owes me, and I can pay whatever he wants.Tag us with your ETA—we’ll meet you in Juarez.”
Bailey managed to breathe for the first time in three days, and he almost cried when the text came through with the contact.“Thank you,” he all but whimpered.
“Dean’s family,” Rory said simply.“Which reminds me—have Reg call Anthony.You’re not doing this alone.The two of them should come with you, but, uhm, you know.Don’t tell Ed and Julie, okay?Just tell them you’re meeting us in LA.”
“Course,” Bailey said.After spending four nights under their roof, he got it.Protect the parents, protect the peace.Maybe, if he’d been in the family for a little longer he might have protested—but right now, his entire heart was beating in time to that pulsating little dot in Reg’s illegal computer.
THE AIRSTRIPwas midway between the Royal family house in Bakersfield and Anthony and Rory’s gun range about forty-five minutes away.Bailey packed a small bag, apologized to his father for his blowup that morning, and left explicit instructions for how to care for the white cat he was leaving in these nice people’s spare room.
And then he and Reg got the hell out of dodge—but not entirely unscathed.
“Chance,” Reg was saying as he floored the poor family-mobile, “there is no guarantee there are enough seats on the plane.”
“Then I’ll drive the minivan home,” Chance said stubbornly.
“You will not,” Reg snapped.“You’ll leave my body in the back and take my spot on the plane.Iknowyou, you little shit!”
Bailey had never had a little brother—he’d had no idea they had supersonic hearing and some sort of sixth sense for any trouble going down that did not involve them.He’d been throwing his and Reg’s bags in the back of the minivan and suddenly Chance had booty-bumped Bailey’s ass to the back and was buckling into the front seat and giving his brother hell.
Bailey was thirty-four years old—he’dthoughthe knew how to handle himself with adults, but he’d never come face-to-face with true love before.
