Page 117 of Absinthe Minded

I turned as my brothers and father entered the study. “Five-million-dollar wire transfer and a hundred thousand in cash tonight.”

“Take the money out of my trust fund. I know my mom and dad left money for us. Take it and get Maggie back,” Zach said from behind the men.

I hadn’t realized the kid had returned, but I couldn’t do anything about that now.

We had a bigger problem. One look at my father’s face and I knew he wouldn’t give up the money without a fight.

“Zach, please. Go wait with your grandmother.” My father’s voice echoed through the room.

“No. Gabe said men take care of their women. I’m staying.” Zach closed the door behind him and folded his arms.

“We have the cash. I say we pay it. Once Maggie’s safe, we track them down and take them out.” This from Enzo, who wouldn’t know how to censor himself around kids if his life depended on it.

My father said, “No. We pay the hundred thousand ransom and have the guys in IT send a fake wire transfer for the rest.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And if something goes wrong and they catch on?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been at this a long time. No one ever catches on until they show up at the bank. By then, we’ll have the girl back.”

“We’re paying them.” I squared my shoulders and stared the old man down. “So help me God, if you say one more word about it, I’ll walk out of this house and this family.”

Leo, Dante, and Marco stood and moved to my sides—a symbolic closing of ranks.

My father stammered. “You four think you can survive on your own? You have no idea what it means to work for a living.”

With that a miracle happened, Enzo pushed to his feet and stood alongside us.

Leo said, “What’s it going to be? Are you willing to lose the rest of your sons over chump change?”

“Pay the fucking money!” My father stood but swayed and sank back into his chair. The coughing started with a clearing of his throat and ended with him hooked up to his oxygen tank.

37

Maggie

The car slowed,stopped, and moved forward again. A few minutes later, it slowed and stopped. I cracked the trunk open and headlights blinded me. We were stuck in traffic.

Now or never.

I slid the end of the cuff out of the hole and threw the trunk open. Waving my arms and screaming at the top of my lungs, I almost fell out. The sudden movement sent a wave of nausea through me, but I held down the bile by force of will and adrenaline.

The driver in the truck behind us opened his door and ran toward me. Pinned in by traffic, my kidnappers hit the gas and the brakes and the gas again—but they had nowhere to go.

I tumbled from the trunk with my legs tangled in the long layers of my dress. Skin peeled from my hands and knees stung, but I didn’t care. I had to get away before Justin and Denise grabbed me again,

Shouting, car doors, and heavy footfalls came from all around me.

I scrambled to gain purchase on the asphalt. The sounds of metal slamming into metal and shattering glass filled my ears. My head exploded in pain and my legs refused to hold my weight, but I crawled toward the truck. A man knelt and pulled me to his chest. A woman pressed close and murmured words likesafeandyou’re okay.

“It’s all right.” The man released me and motioned toward the car. “We got them.”

It took my brain a minute to make sense of the scene. Several people had pinned Justin and Denise Trudeau to the ground.

“It’s over?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I choked back a sob and crumbled against the stranger.

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