“He just . . . tossed that out there? Like, ‘Hey. My cousin is a loony bitch, but I’d pay a ransom to get her back.’”
Seamus squirmed. “When you put it like that, it makes me sound like a marblehead for believing him.”
I blinked at my brother’s use of the word marblehead. According to him, I was a dipshit, Caleb Tyson was a fuckstain, but he was a wee little adorable marblehead.
This fucking guy.
“You realize everything he said was bullshit, right?” I asked, wanting to make sure he and I were on the same page about Kat’s cousin.
“She’s not worth billions?”
“No. That part is true. The rest is bullshit.”
“Yeah. I know that now. But why would I doubt him then?”
“You didn’t want to doubt him. All you saw were the dollar signs.”
Seamus ignored me, like I hadn’t spoken. “He was slick, convincing. I thought I was doing you a favor. I thought you didn’t know who she was, that she’d pulled one over.”
“So you, what? Went to the house last week to save me? Or to kidnap her?”
He shrugged. “Both. I figured you wouldn’t mind me taking her off your hands. Caleb would pay a ransom, I’d be all set up, you’d divorce her, she’d go to an institution. Everybody wins.”
“Everybody wins, huh?”
Seamus rolled his eyes, turning his head to shout to Ricky, “You got any more pancakes?”
My attention snagged on the purple and green bruises around his neck. I didn’t feel remorse about putting them there. I’d done what I had to do to keep Kat safe, but sometimes I still wished Seamus wasn’t such a corrupt piece of shit. Even now, tied up in his warehouse clubhouse, I still wished he was just my brother.
“Kidnapping me was stupid.”
Seamus gave me the side-eye, his eyebrows ticking higher on his forehead. “Oh yeah? Why?”
“Because Quinn.”
He seemed to think this over, his eyes growing smaller with the effort required to use his brain. “You think he’s gonna find us?”
“My guess is, he already knows where I am, and he’s gonna come in here any minute and shoot you.”
Seamus crossed his arms, giving me a look like he knew a secret. “You don’t know your wife.”
“What?” I snapped.
“That woman you married, she’s not going to let Quinn come in here, guns blazing. She’s not going to take the chance that you might get hurt in the cross fire. She’ll pay the ransom.”
I frowned at my brother, peering at him, saying nothing, because he was probably right. Guilt flared again, so much fucking guilt, along with the image of her throwing a stapler at the wall behind me. I’d hurt her. Thinking about Kat hurt made it feel like I had a two-ton weight on my chest.
“That woman loves you. That woman is crazy about you. I saw it the first night, when she was walking back to the table after you two were smooching. After talking to Tyson, I thought maybe she was just plain crazy, but I was wrong.” He paused here to rub his chin, his stare moving beyond me. “When I knocked you out, you should have seen her. If I’d made one wrong move, she was going to blow my head off, shoot me dead in my own mother’s house. That, brother, is true love.”
“Am I finished listening?”
“Not yet.” Seamus pulled out his phone, pressed a few buttons, and then showed me the screen. “This is the message Caleb has been sending Kat since seven this morning.”
I read the threatening text, unsurprised. “I already figured out that I’m being ransomed.”
“Caleb thinks you are.”
Examining my brother, I turned my head slightly to the side, sending him a disbelieving look. “What does that mean?”
Seamus’s attention was back on his phone and he was tapping through screens until the sound of a recording filled the silence.
Caleb: “She’ll respond. She’ll want proof of life before she sends the money. And it’s just you two?”
Seamus: “Yeah. I told you, I run a tight operation. No need to include more guys when Mark and I can handle it.”
Caleb: “And your man Mark is trustworthy?”
Seamus: “Absolutely. Won’t breathe a word, especially after he gets his cut of the ransom.”
Caleb: “You’ll have your half when the job is finished.”
Seamus stopped the recording, giving me a satisfied smirk. “Consider it a wedding present.”
I didn’t try to disguise my shock, mostly because I didn’t think I’d be able to. “You . . . recorded that? You recorded Caleb?”