phone once he sees me.
“Hello,” I state again. I mouth, “Some weirdo is on the phone.” When Drake steps out, he’s in all of his naked glory, and if I weren’t grossed out about this phone call, I would really take the time to look him up and down. I hand Drake the phone. He listens until I assume he hangs up or the caller does.
“Fuck, I need to call Easton. That call needs to be traced. We thought it was a part of Kellie’s situation with her ex when we got the last call at the office.”
“What do you mean? You guys just randomly get pornographic phone calls day and night?” I’m trying to make light of the situation even though I can see Drake is fuming mad.
“No, but the call doesn’t have a caller ID on it, which means it’s going to be a bitch to trace. Why don’t you take a shower. I’ll call the guys. Anyway, do you think your parents would mind bringing you over a change of clothes? I wanted to go with you and meet them, but with this call, I’d like to keep you here. If they can’t do that, I’ll text Slade. Taylor can stop at the store and pick you up something.” Drake’s voice is exasperated.
“Okay, promise to tell me what all this is about though?”
“Of course.” He kisses the side of my head, still naked as the day he was born, and already on his phone. I take it as my cue to make my own phone call, hoping like hell my dad doesn’t go bananas, get pissed himself, and hate Drake in the meantime.
Eleven
Drake
Six Weeks Later
Every few days, like clockwork, I either get a call on my cell phone or my office line. We’ve blocked them, tried to trace them. Shit, Easton and Cam moved back home, which has been a long time coming, but all of us were happy as a pig in shit when they told us their plans earlier this year. Though, we still have not one fucking lead. He’s slowly coming back into the fold even though he owns his own company now. It’s stumped us all, and it’s churning at my gut night and day. The only good thing that came from today is that I made great progress, so I’m officially cleared from the doctor to do light work and only going to physical therapy twice a week.
That day six weeks ago, shit came to a head. As if the phone call didn’t fuck everything up already, that was the day Giana’s college called to inform her that her tuition was paid up. Add to that her parents showing up with her clothes while everyone was there. It was a shitshow. Giana curbed her attitude somehow, but I got a ration of shit later on that night.
Jim and Marge weren’t impressed. They didn’t understand why my house was full of Nighthawk men and their women. It took me a good hour to calm them both down, but to also insist Giana stay with me until I figured out who the hell the caller was. Jim and Marge were upset at first but understood. They left shortly after and went back home to grab even more of Giana’s things to bring to my place.
The girls pulled out the rest of our leftovers for us to eat while we worked on our laptops the entire time, then got into the margaritas. I was for once grateful Giana was too tipsy to bitch me out that night, especially because we didn’t get shit accomplished.
My girl though, she saved that attitude for the next day and ripped me a new one. Refused to take any money while she was working before and after while I was recuperating and went so far as to offer to clean the house to finish paying back the rest. That was our first and only fight, thank God. It tore at my soul to see Giana upset, not just flaming mad upset but almost in tears. Even if I was trying to do something nice for her.
“Did you hear from Easton?” Slade and Bridger walk into my office. Leo is still out on an assignment with some princess. Her father is a stickler to say the least. She’s being watched night and day. The girl is somewhat of a diva, making demands that only Leo watch her, giving him no downtime whatsoever.
“Nope, he’s still trying to trace it. I’m thinking it