Page 25 of Blood Ties

“I was kidding. You made breakfast so I’ll do dishes.” I smirked.

His bark of laughter was the first time I’d really heard him laugh in days. “I utilized a toaster—that’s hardly cooking.”

“Hey, it’s food and it’s morning. That’s breakfast in my book.”

“Eat.”

Didn’t need to tell me twice.

We both ended up washing the few items we dirtied. It didn’t take long. I was returning everything to its proper place when his phone rang.

“Yes.” His short staccato greeting had me glancing his way.

I couldn’t be certain, but it sounded like my dad on the other end. A frown tugged at my brow that matched his.

“Get your bag. Now,” he demanded as he snagged his keys and we were rushing out into the garage. He tossed his in the backseat of the vehicle that had been waiting in the garage when we arrived. When he tugged mine from my hand and gestured for me to get in, I immediately obeyed. “I’ll keep you updated,” he said before he ended the call, cursing under his breath.

The garage door was rolling up when he started the car. “Duck down,” he told me.

With my head to my knees, I stared at his profile. “Was that my dad?”

“Yes. Change of plans. We’re not going to my brother’s lake home.” He slid on a pair of sunglasses and tossed on a backwards baseball cap.

“Where are we going then? What happened? What did he say?”

“They know where we are and likely where we’re going.”

“Who?” I asked, exasperated as hell.

“I wish I knew.”

There was something he wasn’t telling me. “I want to talk to my dad.”

“He’s indisposed at the moment. We’ll call him when we stop.”

“Indisposed? What the hell does that mean?” I knew my dad had done some sketchy shit as a mercenary, though he kept the details to himself. Him being “indisposed” sent my anxiety skyrocketing, especially since a few years ago, he told me and Mom he was retired.

At first, Alessio didn’t answer me, and I noticed he was glancing frequently in the rearview mirror.

“He’s trying to find out who, but his information is… limited… at the moment. I have some friends that I think can help us out. But my friend is very private. He doesn’t like discussing a lot of things over the phone.” His vague answers were driving me batshit crazy.

“For fuck’s sake, Alessio. I’ve been shot at, chased across Chicago, my loft has been broken into, my private space violated. I think I deserve to know what the fuck is going on! And can I sit up?” By that time, I was shouting at him.

“Give me about five more minutes.”

“Ugh!” I grunted in frustration.

“You’re good now. We’ll be swapping out this car, then heading to a place I know. We’re going to take a roundabout route, and we’ll swap cars again once we cross the Iowa state line.”

“Jesus, how many damn cars do you have?” My eyes bugged as I sat up and glanced out of the window.

“A few. My family has a few more.” He checked the rearview again.

I snorted in disbelief. “Afew?”

He casually shrugged like having multiple residences and twice as many vehicles was a common occurrence. Sure, if his condo was any indicator, he had money. Oh, who was I kidding? I knew damn well his family had money—but for a moment I’d forgotten who his family was.

My eyes rolled.

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