“Who is this?” he asked the caller on the phone while he turned on the bedside light.
“This is some craaazy shit.”
“Remington?” The voice was slurred and sounded like it was coming from a mouth full of cotton.
“Blackwell. Are you here?”
Gabi was stewing beside the bed.
Hunter waved her off and placed a finger over his lips.
“Are you drunk?”
Remington started to laugh and then moaned. “Hurts, man. Dudes fucked me up.”
“What the hell is going on? What are you talking about?”
“Two Mexican dudes. Big fists.”
Hunter’s head calculated the information Remington could reveal. “Did you tell them about Hayden?”
“They knew about . . . aww. Fuckers broke my nose.”
The door to the room opened and Solomon stepped inside.
“Focus, Remington. What did they know about?”
“Hayden. Knew he was gone. Not the target.”
Hunter did a double take at Gabi to assure himself she was still there.
“Don’t do drugs, Blackwell. This is crazy.”
“Drugs? Where are you, Remington?”
The PI muttered a few incoherent sentences.
Hunter placed his hand over the receiver. “Can we trace this?”
“We’re working on it,” Solomon said.
“ . . . goddamn truth serum. I’m good with secrets. You know that, right, dude?”
The fact that Remington kept calling him dude was evidence enough to know that he was high on something.
“Are you at home, Remington?”
“No . . . feel sick.”
Hunter leaned over and tugged on his shoes. “Where are you?”
All Hunter got was another muttering to not take drugs.
Dennis ran into the room with a piece of paper and thrust it into Solomon’s hands. “Neil is already on his way.”
Hunter looked down at the address and froze.
Gabi came up beside him, placed a hand on his arm. “Who is it?”
“My dad.”
She bit her lip and shoved him. “Go.”
Genuine concern filled her gaze.
He leaned over, kissed her hard, once, then said, “Don’t leave the house.”
She shoved him again. “Go.”
“We’ll take my car,” Solomon said as they left the room together.
Gabi heard the gate open and close and turned her attention to the stranger in her kitchen.
“I’m Dennis.”
“One of Neil’s men?”
“Yeah.” He nodded toward the back stairs. “I gotta get back to my post.”
She’d seen men coming and going downstairs the day before, but hadn’t asked why.
“I’ll make coffee.”
“That’d be great.”
She offered a smile she didn’t feel and one-handedly set the pot to brew.
She wasn’t sure what had just happened. From the tragic expression on Hunter’s face, his dad was in danger . . . hurt . . . or worse.
Gabi filled the coffeepot with water, dumped it into the machine, and proceeded to grind the beans. The buzz of the grinder stopped and the phone rang.
She jumped.
She looked around, realized she was alone, and saw Hunter’s cell number light up the caller ID. “Hunter?”
The line was full of static.
“Is this Mrs. Blackwell?” The voice was female.
Her heart started to pound. “Yes.”
“Yeah, uhm . . . there’s been an accident. Corner of Bellagio and Sunset. Your husband, he . . . he handed me his phone.”
Gabi dropped the coffee grounds in her hand. “Is he OK?”
“He’s messed up pretty bad.”
She started to shake. “Did someone call the paramedics?”
“I hear sirens. I gotta move my car.”
The woman hung up and Gabi tossed the phone on the counter.
The keys to the cars sat in a bowl in the foyer table. She grabbed them and turned toward the door.
Dennis ran up the back stairs. “Wait.”
“No time. There’s been an accident. I’ve got to go . . .” She was already out the front door.
Dennis ran beside her and yelled for Connor, who stood at the gate.
Gabi opened the garage door and decided the Maserati would get her there quicker.
She opened the driver’s door only to have Connor push in. “I’ll drive.”
She looked at her broken arm and relented.
He sped out of the drive and down the street, avoiding the cars as he went.
“They crashed on Sunset,” Gabi told him.
Connor kept looking out his rearview mirror.
He rolled the stop sign and kept his foot on the accelerator. Thank God he was driving, because her entire body was shaking. Solomon and Hunter had sped off so fast, an accident could have been predicted. She clenched her free hand and sent a prayer that Hunter was OK.
They didn’t need this . . . not with all the chaos infused in their life.
Traffic thickened the closer they got to Sunset. Connor made a few illegal moves, had cars honking as he passed them.
Gabi held on and craned her neck to peer ahead.
Connor’s cell phone rang. She was shocked to see him pull it out and click into the call. “Yeah?”
The intersection was closing in fast.
Traffic flowed.
“Oh, shit.”
Connor slammed on the brakes and swung the car around.
Gabi lunged forward, felt a vibration up her arm, under her cast.
“Where are you going?”