Wherever It Leads(96)

My heart lurches in my chest, tears stinging my eyes.

Fenton did get him back.

Presley grabs my hand and I squeeze it, trying to keep from breaking down at the table. I keep envisioning him being led out of the restaurant, hearing him say he loves me. And now, seeing what he did for me, for Brady, for my family, my heart splinters into a million pieces.

My father has been talking, but I haven’t followed along. So when Brady responds, I have no idea what he’s responding to.

“His name is Fenton Abbott,” Brady says, taking my breath away. He furrows his brow, flashing me an inquisitive look, but I don’t respond. Just hearing his name come out of my brother’s mouth is awe-inspiring. “His mother was from Zimbabwe, so he had regional contacts there. It’s very clannish; it’s hard to explain. He told me on the way over here he was forbidden to deal with them, but as soon as he had enough concrete information, he did anyway. I’m pretty sure he’s going to lose his company because of it. The government won’t let him get away with that.”

A small gasp escapes my lips and Brady reads it like a book.

“Brynne?”

“It’s nothing . . .” I let go of Presley’s hand and slip my phone out of my pocket. Still nothing from Fenton.

My heart plummets.

“Do you think your boss is going to be okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I don’t know. I hope,” he sighs. “He’s a really good guy. I’m not sure he’s always one-hundred percent legal, but everything he does is done so that someone else can benefit. Like, the guys were saying he’s in with some of the clans over there. That might be true. But I also know how much he gives back to people and the good he does, so what’s it really matter? As a doctor, sometimes I have to do things that aren’t necessarily going to get me a big thumbs-up by the board, but you have to do things to save lives sometimes. I don’t think he’s much different than me, really.”

I can’t stop the tears. They pour down my face before I can even attempt to stop them. When Presley hugs me, the sobbing begins. They’re so forceful I’m not sure they’ll ever stop, wails racking my body so hard my mother gets up and flies around the table to be at my side.

I hear her hushing me, trying to console me. But nothing will. Not until I see Fenton again. Not until I know he’s okay.

“Are you all right?” I hear Brady’s voice as my tears start to falter and I regain my composure, using a napkin off the table to dry my eyes. It soaks within a second.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.”

“Do you know him? Fenton, I mean?” Brady asks. He studies me in the way he always has. He knows the answer, an ability honed from years of sharing the same bedroom and eavesdropping on my phone calls.

I consider lying about it because it seems so awkward, so strange that I know him. But I realize it’s pointless. They all know, anyway. And I have every intention of standing by his side as he goes through whatever he’ll face from doing this.

“I do,” I answer, glancing around the table. “We met a while ago.”

A haunting smile crosses my brother’s face. “So, you’re the rudo.”

I gasp. “How did you know that?”

“It was a long trip from Concord,” he smiles. “Fenton was waiting when we landed to refuel and flew back with me. We had a long talk.”

“Do you know what it means?” I ask. “He says it’s just a word, but I don’t think that’s true.”

Brady laughs softly. “Yes, but I think he should be the one to tell you.”

“I wasn’t very nice to him,” I admit. “I thought he had something to do with you being missing. I thought he left you there.”

“We all did,” my father chimes in.

“Is that who you went to Las Vegas with?” my mother asks, never missing a thing.

“Yes,” I sniffle. “I’ve been seeing him.”

“Well, you were all wrong to think he left me anywhere,” Brady says. “Because from what I understand, and from what I believe happened that day—and trust me when I say I’ve had a long time to think about it—Grant is the one that left me there.”

“Grant?” my mother gasps.

“Yeah. There was a window, a small one, where he could’ve done something. When he heard the shots I fired at the dog, he should’ve come running and he didn’t. Do I think I was set up because I knew about the ivory?” he shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe. I don’t know for sure. It’s possible. But if it weren’t for Grant, we never would’ve been where we were anyway.”

I’m stunned, my mouth hanging open. I look at Pres and she’s as shocked as me.

“Can we kill him now?” she asks. I’d normally laugh, but I don’t think she’s kidding. And I don’t think I’d be adverse to the plan either.

“He’ll get his,” Brady says. “I have to be debriefed again in the morning because the guys that had me were terrorists. But between them and Fenton, I have no doubt Grant will be handled. We just need to let it play its course.”

I rub my hands down my face, trying to soak in all of this information. It’s all clear now, all of it making sense. But there’s still a hole in my heart and I can’t fill it . . . because he’s not here.