Hunter pulled into his father’s drive in a Jeep he’d picked up from the dealer before noon. If anyone was following him, they would have targeted the Town Car he had one of the security guards jump in the back of. It was all very cloak-and-dagger, but he didn’t trust anyone.
Wearing jeans—something he did on such a rare occasion that he had to hunt for an unopened box that had been sent from the high-rise condo he recently slept in—Hunter glanced around the secluded home of his father.
Tucked into the far suburbs of the Santa Clarita Valley, his father’s property wasn’t gated or secure in any way.
No one cared to notice.
There was a pickup in the drive, one Hunter had bought his dad a few years back. Beside it, a tiny sports car five years past its prime.
He pulled the key out of the ignition and lifted the collar on his jacket. Hiding under sunglasses and a baseball cap, Hunter jogged up the steps to his father’s home and didn’t bother to knock.
Hunter knew for a fact that a maid showed up every week to clean the place. Gardeners took care of the yard, and if the maid found the cupboards bare, she ordered groceries that were delivered.
Hunter might not care to spend time with his father, but he made sure the man had the basics.
He shed his cap and sunglasses the moment he closed the door. He pushed past the familiar hall and up the few short steps of the split-level home.
Standing in front of the sliding glass door was Noah, his back to him.
“I was starting to wonder if you were coming.”
Hunter looked around the room. “Where’s Dad?”
Noah didn’t turn from his perch, simply nodded behind him. “In the den. Probably out cold.”
Hunter tossed his keys, hat, and glasses on the table. He set the briefcase he brought with him down and left it.
He paused . . . as he’d been trying to do regardless of how difficult it felt.
How had he and his brother gotten to this point? How could they be as different as they were? Wasn’t there a time when they enjoyed each other? Would have blackened the eye of the other guy just for saying the wrong thing to their sibling? High school . . . it all changed in those formative years, and there was no going back.
Hunter moved to the front window of the house and looked out. When he was confident no one had parked themselves outside the drive, he moved back into the dining area where his brother stood.
“I don’t have a lot of time,” Hunter told him.
Noah’s laugh started out slow, then grew. “You never do, brother.”
“This time it’s not about me.”
Noah turned then. When they were younger, looking at his identical twin was routine, now he found the image of an animated version of himself eerie. “Since when?”
Pause . . . patience.
“Why are you doing this?” If Hunter was ever going to get answers, it was now.
Noah looked down Hunter’s frame. “Wearing a wire, Hunter?”
Hunter shrugged off his jacket and shed his shirt with one smooth scoop. “Do I need to take off my pants?”
Noah lifted an eyebrow. “Because I could,” he said. “Because you stopped taking my calls.”
“I cut you off! Something he needed to do years ago.” Hunter flung his hand behind him to indicate their father.
“You think you’re so much better than everyone. But you never saw this coming, did you?”
Hunter sucked in a slow breath. “No, I didn’t.” He glanced at the briefcase on the kitchen table. “How much?”
Noah ran a hand down his face and over his chin as he took in the case.
“What changed your mind?”
“Does it matter? You have what you want. Name your price, Noah.”
Noah placed his hand on the briefcase and Hunter slapped his over his brother’s.
Their eyes caught and didn’t let go. “My conditions.”
Noah eased his hand away.
“You leave here, retrieve Hayden, and meet my pilot.”
Noah gripped the back of a dining chair. “And where are we going?”
“Someplace safe.”
A flicker of humanity passed over his brother’s face. Had Hunter not been watching, he would have missed it.
“Safe?”
Hunter’s next words were slower than a turtle marching across the desert sand. “Your son’s life has been threatened . . . all in an effort to get to me. You take this money and your son and you both disappear. I’ll contact you when it’s safe to move on with your life.”
“And if I don’t agree?”
“Then you take this, give it to Sheila . . . split it . . . burn it for all I care, but Hayden comes with me. Today.”
To say Noah was stunned would have been an understatement. His jaw dropped, his eyes were tiny specks of confusion.
“You’re willing to take my son?”
Hunter made sure he articulated every syllable of his next words. “Hayden is already mine. I’m a week away from taking permanent custody, and neither you, nor Sheila, will see one penny.” It was a bluff. But Hunter had to try.
A weak smile started on Noah’s lips. “Always impatient. I don’t know how you managed to get so far in business when you show everyone your cards.”