what he thinks should be his since she basically used him and then tossed him aside,” Austin thinks aloud.
“That would explain why he has all of her financial information, but what the hell would he need this for and where does Finn fit in?” I ask, pointing to the blue-tinted engineering design that shows every emergency exit, every cubicle, every meeting room, and every storage space.
We stare at it for a few more minutes, my impatience growing with each breath I take. Every second we waste is another one where Layla is missing.
“Is Finn his kid? Eve messed around with the guy nine years ago. Who knows how long it was going on before that? Maybe the two of them hatched a plan. Father and son taking what’s rightfully theirs,” Adam states.
“Eve denied that when I asked her. She said that she knows for a fact Finn isn’t Billy’s son, and when I accused her of lying, she told me to go ahead and rerun the DNA. The father was a one-night stand. She hadn’t seen Billy for at least a year before Finn was conceived,” I explain.
“Well, there goes that idea,” Austin complains, angrily flicking his finger against the blueprint. The tack holding it to the wall comes loose, and the page flutters to the floor. It lands facedown, and I quickly pick it up when I see handwriting on the back in the lower left-hand corner.
“Soundproof basement. Access door next to conference room B. Building will be closed on Sunday, will make sure the delivery door on the south side of the building is left unlocked. I’ll make sure she’s there,” I read aloud. “This is Finn’s handwriting.”
I feel sick to my stomach as I read the words that Layla’s own brother wrote on the back of the page.
“Son of a bitch. He delivered her up like a lamb to the slaughter,” Austin curses.
Crumpling up the page in my hand, I throw it against the wall and stalk from the room, rage flowing through me as I shove people out of my way. Slamming open the door of the trailer, I pull my gun from my side holster and check the clip, making sure I have more than enough bullets to shoot through Finn’s heart when I get to that lying sack of shit.
“Brady! Hold up!” Austin yells as he jogs up to me and grabs my arm.
I fling it off and quickly turn to face him, my fear for Layla’s safety exploding out of me.
“Don’t fucking tell me to hold up! I’ve been climbing the walls this whole fucking day hoping and praying that she’s still alive,” I shout at him.
“Dude, I know. I know you’re freaked the fuck out, but you need to be smart about this. You can’t go in there alone, half-cocked or you’ll get yourself killed,” he argues.
I shove both of my hands against his chest and push him away from me. He stumbles a few times before regaining his footing.
“Do you think I give a fuck what happens to me if Layla is gone? DO YOU?” I scream.
Austin quickly advances on me and gets in my face as a few neighbors and a handful of Nashville’s finest stand around outside the trailer watching me lose my shit.
“Don’t be a fucking asshole, man! I’m here to help you, you stubborn son of a bitch! What do you think you’re going to do? Go in there with that Nancy-ass weapon and light the place up like fucking Rambo?” Austin shouts back.
We stand there staring at one another, both of our chests heaving in anger and our fists clenched to our sides until the fight finally leaves me and I realize I’m standing outside having a shouting match with one of my best friends instead of formulating a plan to get Layla back.
“Stop calling my Beretta 9mm Nancy. It can shoot circles around your pitiful excuse for a weapon,” I finally tell him.
Austin throws his head back in a laugh and punches me in the arm.
“You only wish, asshole. Now, are we going to go get your girl back or what? Because something tells me you’ve gone to the dark side with Garrett, and now I’m going to have the two of you boring me with details about your amazing women and all the hot sex you’re having,” Austin says with another laugh as we walk towards his car and get in.
“Guys, hold up!”
We hear Adam’s voice through the open window as he runs across