Exposed (Let Me Love You #3)

Chapter 42

42

MIAMI, WE HAVE A PROBLEM

MATT

I ’m stunned as we walk out of the Manhattan skyscraper.

The Miami Police Department is scouring the city for my mom. They’re checking traffic and store cams. The last my dad heard from her, she was on her way home from running errands.

The police pinged her phone and found it abandoned outside a grocery store. With zero fingerprints on it, it’s a dead end.

“Do you think Ian has something to do with this?” Jasmine asks.

“Possibly. He was sneaky as hell. If I storm back in there, he’ll have me arrested.”

That would not help in finding my mom, and she’s my priority. We need proof to take down Ian, but we don’t have that yet.

“We need to see if we can change to an earlier flight back home.” I hail a cab back to the hotel to get our luggage. Checking my phone in the car, I find an earlier flight with availability left and book it.

Once we touchdown in Miami, my dad picks us up with Shani in the backseat. My parents took care of her while we were away. Shani licks my face the moment I get in the car.

“Yes, girl, I’m happy to see you,” I rub her furry head. “Any leads, Dad?”

Dad’s eyes are bloodshot, and his face is red and puffy from crying.

“It’s okay, Dad. We’re going to find Mom,” I squeeze his shoulder.

“The police found a note in your mom’s abandoned car.” His voice is thick with emotion.

Chills fan down my back and over my shoulders.

“It says, ‘You’ll be sorry.’”

“Fuck. What does that mean?” I grumble. A pit forms in my stomach. “Do you think Ian knows we’re the ones who hired Merrit to dig around his company?”

“You think he knows? I’m so sorry,” Jasmine apologizes.

“It’s not your fault. He’s a wealthy criminal. Maybe he’s been watching my family, and he could’ve easily hired someone to kidnap my mom,” I guess.

Ian could’ve been the one to hire those thugs to attack me, too.

Now that the story is out in the news, my dad and mom know Jasmine’s real name and what happened to her.

“We think Kevin is innocent. We met with the co-owner, Mr. Crane and his son Ian. It’s possible Ian orchestrated the whole scandal and framed Kevin and Jasmine, because he wants to take over the whole company when his dad and Kevin’s dad retire,” I tell my dad as he pulls into Miami traffic and heads to our house.

“What the hell? I hope you threatened to sue like I told you,” my dad says.

“That was your idea?” Jasmine asks my dad.

“Yes, ma’am. No reputable business does that to an employee without a proper investigation. They need to have an example made of them so it won’t happen again to another innocent person.”

“Yeah, that would help people in the future to not have to go through what I did. Although, I found you guys, so it was worth it for me. Now, we have to find Madilyn.” Jasmine gives me a soft grin, and I squeeze her thigh affectionately.

When my dad pulls into my driveway, I hop out of the car. “Let me grab my keys, and we can search for Mom.”

“Absolutely,” my dad agrees.

“Where are we going to look?” Jasmine asks, following me to get my keys.

“Dad can go where they found Mom’s car abandoned. We can go where her phone was abandoned. Ask around. Someone had to have seen something,” I answer. “Dad can take Shani so he’s not alone. Maybe she’ll sniff out something.”

I go into my bedroom and latch my gun in the waist holster I have, then put it on.

Jasmine eyes my gun.

“I’ve got a license to carry. You know I’d do anything to keep you safe, right?” I ask.

“I’m just sorry we’re in this mess,” she says softly.

“We can’t control everything that happens to us, Jasmine. But we’ll get through this, and I’m not leaving you.” I palm the back of her head and kiss her hair. I love taking care of this girl.

She fists her hands in my shirt and kisses my collarbone, and goosebumps scatter across my chest. “You’re right. We’ve got this.”

Damn, she’s the best.

Dad is waiting for us in the front yard while Shani stretches her legs. I tell Dad the plan, and even though he says the police have probably already done that, he agrees. People can get jumpy talking with police. They may be more honest with my dad and me when we say it’s our family member who’s missing.

“Do you have anything of Mom’s that Shani can smell?”

“I’m sure I do.” My dad rummages through his car and produces a mint green scarf. “Here we go.”

“Let Shani smell it when you get to the spot. Then, tell her to look for Mom. It’s worth a try,” I instruct.

Shani is smart. I know she can help.

“Okay, keep your phone on loud, and call me if you find anything. Stay safe,” I tell my dad as I unlock my Camaro.

“Same here, son. We’ll find her. Your mom is a fighter, and she’s smart as a whip.”

“She is. Keep my dad safe, Shani,” I whisper when I lean down to scratch her ears, then pat her on the back. “Go with my dad.” She hops into the backseat of his car, and my dad pulls out of the driveway first.

“Let’s go find your mom,” Jasmine says with certainty.

Have I mentioned how much I love this woman? Her support is life-giving.

“Damn straight,” I concur.

My phone rings, and Jasmine rushes to grab it. “It’s Mr. Truman.”

Our lawyers suggested we exchange phone numbers to make custody sharing smooth.

Jasmine puts it on speaker phone so I don’t have to take my hands off the wheel.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Something’s wrong with Simon.”

“What?” I say, white-knuckling the wheel in concern.

“I’m in town. I’ll meet you at your house in five minutes,” he stutters in a panicked voice.

“Should we meet at the hospital?” I ask.

“He was perking up, but now he’s worrying my wife and I again. I’m sorry for being rude earlier. I’m stressed out, but I’m willing to work with you. My wife and I need your help. You know Simon better than we do. We don’t know this city, and we’re too stressed to drive there. Meet us at your house, and we can go to the hospital from there.” His breaths are shallow, probably from stress.

“Okay,” I agree.

They drove all the way to Miami. I guess it’s not surprising. Maybe he and Mrs. Truman realized they can’t take care of an infant.

Emotions war within me. Hope that they'll give up their custody demands is battled by worry that something is deeply wrong with my son. He seemed fine when I left him with the Trumans, but babies are unpredictable.

I call my dad and let him know Mr. Truman is meeting us at my house with Simon.

“Want me to come back and make sure everything is okay?” My dad asks over the phone.

“No. We’re fine. Find Mom,” I assure him, then hang up.

We’re still in my neighborhood, so it only takes a minute to get back home.

“What do you think is wrong with Simon?” Jasmine thinks aloud as we enter our house.

“I don’t know, but I hope they changed their mind about fighting for custody. If he's been crying the whole weekend because he wants us, maybe their nerves are frayed.”

“Hopefully,” she agrees.

A minute later, there’s a knock on the door, and I hurry to open it.

Mr. Truman stands on my front porch alone with the car seat. “Where’s your wife?” I ask.

“She’s beside herself in the car. She’s cleaning up her makeup before we leave for the hospital,” Heath answers, wiping sweat off his brow.

I peer at the tinted windows, but they’re too dark to see Mrs. Truman.

“Come in,” I usher Mr. Truman inside with the car seat that’s covered by a blanket.

His face is etched with concern as he sits the car seat down .

Both Jasmine and I kneel down and pull the blanket away to reveal an empty car seat.

Terror hits my gut like a heavy weight. This was a trap, and I can’t believe I fell for it.

When we turn around to face Mr. Truman, every bit of worry on his face is replaced with a smug smile.

“What the fuck?” I exclaim.

“I guess the saying is true: when you want something done, do it yourself,” he utters ominously.

Everything clicks now.

Ian didn’t kidnap my mom. The Trumans did.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he instructs pridefully. “I’ve got your mom and your son. Do as I say, and they’ll both live.”

My heart plummets. He holds all the cards. Plus, Jasmine is here, and I don’t want her hurt.

“Let Jasmine go,” I demand. “Your problem is with me, not her.”

“So she can run to the cops? No can do. She’s an unfortunate piece that has to be neutralized . ”

Him talking about my wife like she’s nothing but a pawn makes my blood boil. He’ll regret saying that.

“You’re not fucking touching my wife.” Without taking my eyes off of Mr. Truman, I move to stand in front of Jasmine, effectively putting myself in between them. If anyone’s going to get hurt, it’ll be me.

“How noble of you, but bullets are more powerful than your chivalry,” he chuckles darkly.

He’s armed and crazy, a deadly combination.

In one smooth move, my gun is out of my waistband and aimed at him with the safety off.

“Thank you. Exactly what I needed,” he smiles sadistically. “Give me your gun.”

“No fucking way,” I growl, cocking the trigger.

“You kill me, and your mom dies. Give me your gun,” he snarls.

Nope, not giving the crazy man my gun. A bullet between his eyes would look perfect, but I can’t do that. Not yet, when our lives are on the line.

“Oh, did I mention I also have your private investigator?” Heath quips.

“What the fuck ?” I shout.

No wonder Cat didn’t call to let me know Heath was driving to Miami. He better not have hurt her, my mom or Simon.

“Yeah. Pretty little thing. Couldn’t let her spoil the surprise of me coming to see you.”

“What have you done, Heath?” I demand.

“I’m a paranoid billionaire. I have people who watch out for me, and they found her. She’s tucked away somewhere safe. Or not so safe. Depending on how you play your cards.”

“What do you want?” I seethe.

“Give up all custody and visitation rights to my grandson.”

“That’ll never happen.”

“Oh, it’s happening. You get to decide how many people die in the process,” he grins.

“Were you the one who followed me and Simon that day?” Jasmine pipes up.

Good girl . Keep him talking, and I’ll figure a way out of this .

“Not me, but someone I hired,” he answers, pleased with himself.

Ah. He likes his ego stroked. We can do that.

“Were you going to kidnap Simon?” I ask.

“That was the plan. Make a solid case that you’re neglectful and incapable of caring for him. The stalker was shit at his job, so your little girlfriend caught onto him.”

“She’s my wife ,” I growl at him.

“See, this is why you can’t raise my grandson. You have no respect for your elders. Don’t worry though, you’ll learn today. The mugging didn’t teach you anything,” Heath tsks his tongue.

My jaw tightens in anger, and he continues.

“I hired hit men to kill you and make it look like a mugging gone bad. Your wife would’ve been spared had you let them kill you that night. But, no, you had to fight back. Today, it’s your fault that she’s going to die.”

“It’s not my fault you’re insane,” I snap. That mugging felt intentional, and now I know why.

“All that matters is I get Heath Rutherford Truman the third, and I’ll raise him to respect me. When I retire, he’ll be the perfect heir for Truman Holdings.”

No way is he renaming Simon that or raising him.

“No, you won’t. After kidnapping my mom and Cat and trying to hurt us, you’re going to be locked away for life,” I rumble.

“Wrong. All the police will hear is my alibi. You tried to kill me, and I fought back in self-defense. Your mom will have gotten mixed up in a bad drug deal, but she’ll be set free. I already have a revenge note ready for the police to find for Cat. I’ve framed a past client she worked for, so I won’t be connected to that kidnapping. Give me the fucking gun, or your mom and Cat die.”

He looks at his watch. “Tick, tock. If I don’t check in with my men in five minutes, they pull the trigger, and it’s lights out for your mom and Cat.”

“No,” I growl. “Tell your men to stand down, or I’ll kill you.”

“I’m defenseless,” he clutches his chest, feigning innocence. “You’re the only one with a weapon. My wife will tell them you lured me here to kill me. Bye, bye, custody. A murderer like you will never see Simon again,” he says patronizingly.

Fuck. I can’t hurt my chances of losing my son. I’m going to let Heath think he’s won. I reluctantly release my grip on the gun, and Heath swipes it away with his grubby hands.

He aims my gun at himself but holds it away from his body. With a loud pop, he grazes his shoulder with a bullet and curses.

What the ever loving crap? He’s freaking bleeding on my floor.

“An injury from your gun,” he muses as he looks at his bloody handiwork. “Like I said, you lured me to your house, then tried to kill me. You shot me. We wrestled for control of the gun, you two accidentally got shot and died.” His bullshit alibi is sick on so many levels.

“Call your men,” I demand.

“Not so hasty,” he chuckles.

“You’re a fucking maniac,” I shout.

“At least I’m alive, which is more than I can say for you in a couple minutes,” he sneers .

This bitch messed with the wrong man. He thinks he covered all of his bases, but he grossly underestimated me.

Recalling the self-defense classes I’ve taken, I snap into action.

“Get away, Jasmine!” I shout and pray she has time to do so before I lunge for the gun. I want her out of the fray.

I grab the barrel of the gun and turn it away from me with one hand, then grab the top of the gun with my other hand and jerk it towards him as hard as I can. His grip on the gun loosens when his wrist bends painfully backwards. I kick him as hard as I can in the shin, and he drops the gun.

I jam his injured shoulder with the butt of my gun, and he collapses to the ground with a groan.

“Don’t fucking move, asshole,” I growl, pointing my gun at him. “You’ll never have my respect, Heath, and you’ll never have Simon. Where are my family and Cat?”

His stubborn silence is unacceptable. I kick him in the side hard enough to break a couple of ribs, and he squeals in pain.

“Call your men and tell them to let my family and Cat go,” I demand.

Jasmine is calling the police, but there’s a loud banging on my front door.

“Police, open up!” A gruff male voice yells.

She moves to open the door, then steps back close to me.

They have their weapons drawn, and my dad is standing behind them. An officer motions for me to drop my gun, so I lower it to the ground and raise my hands.

“Dad,” I call to him. “He kidnapped Mom and my private in investigator.”

“You have no proof of that. Officers, this man shot me,” Truman lies.

“Make him call his men. He said they’re going to kill my mom and my private investigator if he doesn’t call them,” I tell them.

“We received a call reporting Heath Truman as the perpetrator in plotting to murder Matthieu and Pepper Galloway and abducting Madilyn Galloway. We’ll look into your private investigator’s whereabouts.”

“He admitted he abducted them both. He knows where they’re at,” I say, desperate for answers. I need my mom back, and I feel guilty that Cat got caught up in this.

The police apprehend Heath, then let my dad and Shani through. My dad wraps Jasmine and me in a tight embrace, and Shani noses her way into the hug.

“When you didn’t answer your phone, I called the police and headed back here. Police officers had just received the call, and I followed them here,” my dad explains, then turns to the officers. “Where is my wife?”

“Nita Truman already admitted where Mrs. Galloway is being held, and SWAT is on the way to her location now,” one officer responds while another starts reading Heath his rights and handcuffs him.

“A court-appointed social worker is driving your son here now,” the officer adds, and cool relief floods my body.

Thank God.

“This means they won’t get custody of my son, right?” I ask them.

“After this,” the officer circles his finger around the room, “I’d wager to say you’ll get full custody.”

Jasmine wraps her arms tightly around me. “I thought he was going to kill us.”

I cup her cheeks as tears stream down her face.

“I would never allow that to happen. I’m going to love you the rest of my life, and I want that to be a fucking long time,” I promise.