Highways & Hostages (31 page)

“This isn’t about my father, Finn; this is about us. No matter what you think, I still care about you. I want to make things right between us—well, as right as they
can
be.”

“Okay…well, thanks, but I’ve gotta go.”

“Don’t be so rude,” Claudia purred. “Can I come over?”

What the hell?
“I’m not really in the mood for visitors.”

“Billy wants to come apologize in person.”

Finn swallowed, remaining silent.

“He feels really bad about your fight and wants to make amends.”

“So why hasn’t
he
called me? Why isn’t
he
on the line right now?”

Claudia huffed. “Why do you always have to be so difficult, Finn? He knew if he called you probably wouldn’t answer, or if you did, you would rip him a new one. He asked me to mediate.”

Finn was still beyond mad at Billy for what he’d said to him, and for betraying the Brotherhood. That said, he didn’t want to leave with his last memory of the kid being him standing in the middle of von Rothschild’s grand foyer, holding his bloody nose. Okay, well, maybe he did a little bit. But perhaps Billy had just lost his way for a moment…it sounded like he’d come to his senses.

“Okay,” Finn said. “You all can come over, but you’ve got twenty minutes max. I’m on a tight schedule.”

“We definitely don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Claudia said sweetly. “In fact, we’re already downstairs. Be a dear and buzz us up.”

Finn glanced around the condo. “My place isn’t really fit for guests right now.”

“Well, we’re parked down here by the side exit in an Escalade; you know how Billy loves his toys. Come down and we’ll all go get a late lunch—a
quick
lunch.”

Finn sighed. He did
have some time to kill before meeting up with Stella. “Alright. I’ll be down in a few.”

Five minutes later, Finn stepped out of the side door of the high-rise and onto the street. Claudia stood in front of a black Escalade, holding her phone. She gave a small wave. Finn craned his head around her and saw Billy sitting in the driver seat. Billy looked at him and lifted his hand in greeting.

Finn narrowed his eyes. Something felt off about the whole situation.

He stood a few feet away from Claudia and the car. “So?”

“So, we’re going to lunch.” Claudia covered the distance between them and threw her arms around Finn. “I’m so glad you agreed to see me. I felt so bad about yesterday!”

Finn glanced at the rear windows of the car. Tinted, of course.

Claudia watched him, arms still around his neck, and laughed. “God, Finn. You’re so suspicious. But you should be.”

“Wha—
ahhhhhhh
!” Finn’s comment dissolved into a scream, then faded. He heard the crackle of electricity just as a searing pain began in his shoulder blade and flared through his body. White flashed before his eyes. The last thing he remembered was feeling his legs give out and falling…

Stella stood at the screen door of her trailer and readjusted the straps of her new halter dress. The parking space beside Josie remained empty; Finn was twenty minutes late. Stella sighed, then pulled her phone out of her pocket for the fifth time in the last two minutes. No missed calls.
Did Finn really decide to leave without saying anything?

Stella went to the dining table and looked at her now cold handiwork: French toast topped with sweet plantains, apple cinnamon empanadas, chorizo and scrambled egg tacos, and a fruit salad. She thought Finn would appreciate a breakfast-for-dinner menu. Stella had spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen preparing, and the guest of honor was nowhere to be seen.

Stella had just slumped into a dining chair, picked up an empanada, and stuffed the whole thing into her mouth when Phoebe wandered into the kitchen. Phoebe reached toward the plate of French toast and Stella swatted her hand.

“What?” Phoebe sat in the chair across from her. “He’s clearly not coming.” Phoebe took the piece of toast and nibbled it.

Stella’s brow furrowed. “How do you know it’s a ‘him’?”

Phoebe rolled her eyes, staring at Stella as if she were dumb. “Why else would you wake up early on your day off, spend hours cooking in the kitchen, and get all dolled up?”

Stella cracked a smile. “There’s something to be said about your powers of perception.”

“Have you tried calling him?”

“I…no.”

“Why not?”

Stella had to admit that was a good question.

Phoebe picked up another piece of toast. “Stop being all mopey and call.”

It was as good advice as any. Stella left the kitchen, found Finn’s number in her phone, and dialed. Ring after ring. Still no answer. Just as she was about to hang up, a voice spoke on the other end of the line. A female voice.

“Hello?”

“…Hello?” stammered Stella. “Who is this?”

“Claudia. Who are
you
?”

“I thought this was Finn’s phone,” Stella said. She felt like a fist was squeezing her heart in her chest.

“It is,” Claudia said. “Finn’s tied up at the moment. Can I give him a message for you?”

“No. Don’t worry about it.” Stella ended the call. She threw the phone across the room and sank to the floor.

Why was she so surprised that a woman had answered Finn’s phone? She and Val often talked about how Finn and his friends gave off the jerky, privileged, playboy vibe. But their trip to Texas had shown her a different, deeper Finn—one she wanted to believe was the true him.

How could I have been so stupid?

Phoebe appeared at the doorway of the living room. She came and sat beside Stella on the floor. “I always knew Derek was a jerk.”

Stella leaned her head on Phoebe’s shoulder. “It wasn’t Derek, but it doesn’t matter.” After a few moments, she picked her head up and made an effort to smile. “Besides, now there’s more time for the two of us to hang out. And a lot of food in the kitchen. I’m going to eat my feelings.”

“You don’t want to do that—the next time you see this guy, you’ll want to look super hot so he realizes what an idiot he was to stand you up.”

“Who knew you were so wise?” Stella asked.

Phoebe shrugged. “Me. It just takes everyone else a little longer to figure it out.”

Phoebe, 6:36 p.m.

Stella stood and brushed off her dress. “I saw there’s an
I Dream of Jeannie
marathon on today. You interested?”

Stella was making an effort, and Phoebe appreciated it, but Stella didn’t have to know that. Phoebe stood as well and heaved a large sigh. “I have to check my schedule, but I don’t think I have anything better to do. Anyways, I’m kind of scared to step outside—never know when someone will pull a gun on you these days.”

Stella looked at her with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

“Just kidding…kind of.”

Stella closed her mouth and eyed Phoebe warily. “I’m going to change and see if Valerie wants to come hang out with us. Be back in a sec.”

Phoebe watched Stella disappear down the hall. She waited for the click of the bedroom door, then quickly walked to the other side of the room and picked up Stella’s phone. She knew it was bad to snoop, but she was way too curious. Especially with all the crazy stuff going on in Stella’s life that she
still
wasn’t talking about. If it wasn’t Derek that Stella had been waiting for, who was it?

She glanced down the hall, then back at the phone.
Who the hell doesn’t put a password on their phone these days?
Stella was
way
too trusting. And she would be back in a minute. The most recently dialed number didn’t have a name in the contact list, so Phoebe quickly redialed it and waited. After three rings, someone answered.

“I told you, Finn’s busy. What do you want?” a female voice said.

I know that voice
, Phoebe thought. But how did she know it?

When Phoebe didn’t answer, the person on the other end hung up.

Finn, 6:28 p.m.

Finn opened bleary eyes and blinked rapidly.
Where the hell am I?
What happened to me?
He shook his head to clear it, aggravating the slow, insistent throbbing at the base of his skull.

When Finn was finally able to focus, he realized he was in von Rothschild’s treasure trove of a library. He groaned. This wasn’t good at all.

Finn tried to stretch his arms, but his wrists were zip tied behind his back. His legs and feet remained free, but when he stood up, a wave of dizziness washed over him and he sank back onto the chair. What was going on?

The door leading to von Rothschild’s office opened, and the bodyguard with the gold tooth peeked in at him. His head disappeared back into the office, and moments later von Rothschild entered the library with Claudia, Billy, the bodyguard, and an injured but grinning Tobias. Von Rothschild seated himself across from Finn while the others lined themselves up along the wall as if preparing to witness an execution.

Von Rothschild sat back in his chair, knees spread, hands folded over his walking stick, and regarded Finn. “So nice of you to join us this fine evening, Jacob.”

“What am I doing here?” Finn asked.

In a flash, von Rothschild lifted the stick and smacked it against Finn’s right knee, the pleasant expression never leaving his face. Instead of giving him and the audience the satisfaction of seeing him in pain, Finn gritted his teeth and let out a hiss of breath.

“I, and only I, ask the questions here, Jacob. Are we understood?”

Finn’s fury amplified the aching in his head. He hated the man in front of him with every fiber of his being, and at that moment he wished he had done a lot more than just shoot in him the leg ten days ago. Finn narrowed his eyes and nodded.

“As I recall, when you came to work for me the other day, I told you that the first time you even thought of crossing me I would make you regret it.”

“I didn’t cross you!” Finn spluttered.

Von Rothschild raised the stick and slammed it against Finn’s other knee. “I don’t like liars, Gilroy,” he growled. “You’ve been wearing a wire.”

How the fuck did he know?
Finn racked his brain for anything he might have done wrong. He couldn’t think of anything…
Shit
. When he’d gotten upset with Claudia, he’d ripped off the wire and thrown it on the ground. She must have picked it up and brought it to her father.

Claudia.
The memory of her embrace just a few hours earlier floated through Finn’s mind.

Finn turned to her and lashed out. “You bitch!
You
did this to me. You Tased me or something!”

Claudia rolled her eyes. “Actually, it was a stun gun. And you did it to yourself,” she said. “There’s no way I’m going down for you.”

“How’d you know I’d agree to see you?”

“You always had a soft spot for little Billy.” Claudia gave him a cruel smile. “Like I said: Same. Old. Finn.”

Has she always been such a psycho?
Finn wondered
.

“Claudia, dear, do not engage with him.” Von Rothschild turned back to Finn. “You have presented quite the problem, you see. I’m going to assume you are working for the FBI, and not only did you try to interfere with my business, you brought my daughter into it. Now you have forced me to figure out a quick but tidy solution to said problem.”

Finn swallowed as von Rothschild rolled his neck from side to side. He looked directly at Finn and tapped one finger on his chin.

“I could kill you right now, but I am sure whoever you are working for would show up at my door almost immediately and examine every inch of my home. So I think we should help you ‘disappear.’”

Finn was almost certain his “disappearing” was an abbreviated way of saying von Rothschild would hire someone to kill him and dispose of his body. That way when von Rothschild was questioned, he could truthfully say he didn’t know anything. Despite the man’s calm and genial manner, the cold glint in his eyes left Finn with no doubt that he was capable of it. For the first time in years, Finn was truly scared. He swallowed deeply.

“Yes, I think that might be just the solution I’ve been looking for. But I still have one question: does dear old Uncle Julian know?”

“What are you talking about?” Finn asked. “And he’s not my uncle.”

Von Rothschild regarded Finn for a minute, then let out a low, rumbling chuckle that turned into a deep, full-throated guffaw. He laughed so hard his whole body shook, and he wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh, this is truly rich. He never told you? This is the icing on my cake!”

Finn felt a strange sense of dread that surpassed the fear surrounding his current situation. He looked over at Billy, who had stepped away from the wall and was looking at von Rothschild with a weird expression on his face.

“What are you talking about?” Billy said.

Von Rothschild struggled to regain his breath; he couldn’t stop laughing. “Jacob Gilroy is the bastard son of your father’s deceased brother.”

“That’s not true.” Finn said, his voice low and deadly. “You’re lying.” It couldn’t be true, because if it were, Julian would have told him…right?

“Think about it: Why would the man bring you all the way across the country and take care of you? Do you
really
think he just plucked you off the street like the Daddy Warbucks to your Little Orphan Annie?” Von Rothschild turned to Tobias. “See what I did there?”

“But…” Finn couldn’t think of anything to say that would prove Julian
wasn’t
his uncle. If it was true—and why would von Rothschild make up something like that?—then why had Julian left him in the dark for over ten years? How had Julian found him? And his father, if von Rothschild was telling the truth, was dead. Finn had always wanted to meet him at least once, just so he could punch him in the face for leaving his mom, but now he would never have the chance. His head swam with questions.

Finn turned to Billy, barely able to keep his voice from trembling. “Did you know?”

Billy shook his head, his face pale and slack.

Finn turned to von Rothschild. “And how do
you
know?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Von Rothschild settled back into his chair, wholly satisfied with himself. “Remember, Julian and I were the best of friends until I decided to expand into a more…lucrative market. I was there when Julian was looking for you. Apparently your father had been trying to find you for years, and after his death, Julian was determined to locate you.”