Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Gabe

G lancing at my watch, I see that Kat's now twenty minutes late, but I don't let it upset me. She's never been extremely punctual in casual situations. I give my attention to the layout on the coffee table. A critical once-over and I deem it romantic enough. Fresh flowers, strawberries and a bottle of chilled wine. I thought Kat and I could hang out on the couch for a bit and talk, but not for too long. She has an early day tomorrow, as do I, and I'm going to need time in the bedroom before we go to sleep.

I'm helpless not to smile when I think of how far we've come in the last few days. It's been a slog just being able to have a civil conversation with her, but the tide has turned and there is finally a bright spot in my future. After all the heartache from Alaine's death, to losing Sylvie to the Blackburns, to my father's perfidy, I've somehow come out of this with a gift.

I don't intend to take it for granted or waste it either.

My phone rings and I pull it from my pocket. I don't recognize the number so I send it to voicemail. It's almost certainly related to work and I'm officially off the clock. Ordinarily, I'd answer, but with Kat due here any moment, I'm putting work behind her.

I barely have it slipped back in my pocket when it rings again.

Same number.

I'm irritated at the intrusion and the audacity of someone to call back, especially when they're not even known to me as they're not in my contacts. I again push the call off to voicemail but within moments, it's ringing again from the same number.

A prickle of unease coats my skin in goose bumps that turns into dread. What if it's a hospital calling that something has happened to one of my parents? Or God forbid, Kat.

That thought has me stabbing at the button to connect the call. "Gabe Mardraggon," I answer brusquely, hoping beyond hope this is a work call.

"I want my 1921 Shadow Reserve, Mr. Mardraggon."

It's a male voice, deep and mature. I don't recognize it and yet I know exactly who it is. "Then I'm afraid you're out of luck, Mr. Rafferty. As I told your goons, it's not mine to give and even if it were, I'm not going to help my father."

"Yes," he says with a resigned sigh. "We realize there's no leverage in your father. But perhaps you would help another loved one?"

I frown at that cryptic statement and the incoming chime of a text has me pulling the phone away from my ear with morbid curiosity. It's a text from the same number and with dread, I enlarge the tiny thumbnail of a photo the caller sent.

When it is full screen, my breath evaporates in my lungs, leaving me speechless and struck by insidious fear.

It's Kat, sitting in a chair with a black cloth tied around her eyes. Behind her stands a man wearing a black ski mask and he has a gun pointed at her head. I can't tell if he's one of the original men who paid me a visit, but it doesn't matter.

Kat's in trouble.

My voice quaking with fury, I bring the phone back to my ear and snarl, "You fucking son of a bitch. I'm going to kill you for this."

"No, you won't," Rafferty says brusquely. "In fact, I expect you'll do exactly as I say. You're going to get the case of bourbon and I'm going to text you an address to bring it to. You give me the bourbon, I give you the girl. It's a win-win situation."

"And if I choose to just call the police?" I ask with contempt. "I've done my research on you and you're a fairly upstanding member of Louisville society. Surely you don't want this becoming public."

Rafferty laughs, clearly amused. "Do that, and you won't see your precious Kat Blackburn again. And good luck proving I had anything to do with this, but in the end, it won't matter. You won't have the girl and I'm willing to roll the dice that you're not going to risk a hair on her pretty head."

He's not wrong about that. The bourbon doesn't mean shit to me. Twenty seconds ago, it was part of my family's legacy, but right now it's just brown liquid in dusty bottles. "I want to talk to Kat right now."

"Sadly, I have to decline, Mr. Mardraggon." He sounds so smug and I want to knock his teeth down his throat. "But you have my word she is safe and unharmed. Bring me the case of bourbon, don't involve the police, and you'll have your girl back in your arms before you know it."

"She'll be there when I bring the bourbon?" I ask to clarify the terms.

"Yes. We'll switch out, easy as pie. You walk one way, I'll walk the other, then we forget this happened. I don't think I have to impress upon you how driven I can be when I set my mind on something, so if you think to involve the police or try to fuck this up in any way, I will ensure the people you love suffer. And just so we're clear, I'm not talking about your parents but rather a cute little girl who looks an awful lot like your girlfriend."

Not my girlfriend and at this moment, I regret ever reconnecting with Kat. Had I kept my hands to myself, kept far away from her, this douchebag wouldn't know she means anything to me. He's clearly connected and has done his research—my best guess is I've been followed from the moment they first approached me and they've had plenty of opportunity the last two weeks to see the time Kat and I have spent together. Hell, Kravitz probably saw me kiss her at the gala.

Fuck, I hate myself for putting her in danger, but it never crossed my mind that she would be targeted. Hell, I didn't take this Rafferty prick seriously anyway because who does shit like this for a case of rare bourbon?

Regardless, it's his liquor now and I'm going to bring it to him. I'm also not going to involve the police because he's now threatening Sylvie and if paying my dad's debt makes everyone safe, I'll do it without a backward glance.

"Where do I make the delivery?"

"Louisville," he replies. "I'll text the exact address."

"I'll need two hours but if you hurt her, I will destroy you."

"Relax, Mr. Mardraggon. She's perfectly safe and will remain that way as long as you bring the bourbon."

"You have a fucking gun pointed at her head," I growl in rage at the bastard. "I don't call that perfectly safe."

"Time's a ticking, Mr. Mardraggon. I'll text the address."

The line goes dead and I don't waste a single moment. I blow out the candles I'd lit and I'm out the door, taking my G Wagon because I need more room than what the Ferrari offers.

It's not to collect the bourbon first though.

I head out to Blackburn Farms.

?

Knocking on the front door, I glance at my watch. It's almost nine thirty, about fifteen minutes since I hung up with Rafferty. The lights are ablaze in the Blackburn ancestral home but I've never darkened this doorstep before.

I hear the sound of laughter from inside and then the door opens. Ethan has a wide smile on his face, clearly leftover from the laughter still echoing in a nearby room but it melts off the second he sees me.

Or rather, my expression, because he immediately asks, "What's wrong?"

"Is Sylvie here?"

"Yeah… she's sleeping." He throws his thumb over his shoulder. "We've been hanging out with Marcie, my parents and my brothers playing cards."

I grimace because the thought of having to deal with all the Blackburn brothers is not appealing but there's no time to worry about that. I'm just glad Sylvie's not around to hear this.

"Gabe," Ethan barks, no trace of humor left from his family card night. "What's wrong? Is Sylvie in danger?"

"No, it's not Sylvie. It's Kat."

"What?" Ethan exclaims, and he starts to step out onto the porch.

"Your entire family better hear this," I say, holding up a hand. Ethan halts but doesn't invite me in. His indecision irritates the hell out of me. "It's fucking urgent, Ethan."

That seems to jar him and he scrambles back from the door. I push past him, following the sound of voices with Ethan hot on my heels. I find myself stepping into the kitchen where I find Fi, Tommy, Wade, Trey and Marcie sitting around the table with playing cards scattered about.

They freeze when they see me, Wade's mouth actually hanging open.

It's Trey who breaks the silence, his gaze going to Ethan who comes to stand beside me. "What's this knucklehead doing here?"

"He's here about Kat," Ethan says.

"She's at a meeting in Lexington," Fi says in her Irish lilt. "Then she was going out with friends after."

I shake my head. "She's in trouble." Christ, this is hard… I don't even know where to start, but I can't seem to start with the most important thing—that I love her. Instead, I launch into the story from the beginning, talking at breakneck speed to get it all out because every minute delay is another minute that Kat is sitting there in terror. "My dad was apparently gambling and bet a very rare case of bourbon in a game of poker. He lost and the man who held the marker sent some goons to try to collect from my dad. Except, it's not his bourbon to give. It belongs to the company, so they came to me for collection and I refused. But they want to force my hand, so they kidnapped Kat tonight—"

"What the ever-loving fuck?" Ethan yells at me, both of his hands going to my chest and he shoves me viciously backward.

I take the stumble but correct myself, eyeing him warily. Every other Blackburn plus Marcie rise from the table in alarm. "If I take the bourbon to him, he'll let Kat go. I'm on my way right now to get it, but I had to let you know what was going on. They said she's safe and unharmed and they'll let her go as soon as I bring them the case."

Fiona takes a step forward, her voice soft and surprisingly calm. "I don't understand… why would they be takin' Kat?"

"And why would that matter to you?" Tommy says, his voice sounding like barely contained violence as he comes to stand beside his wife.

"Because we're seeing each other," I say, holding Tommy's gaze. Say what you want about her having three overprotective brothers, it's her father I owe the explanation to.

"Bullshit," Wade says with a wave of his hand, not believing such a thing could happen.

I don't have an opportunity to convince him because there's a blur of movement and then Trey crashes into me. He drives me into the wall but I manage to brace against him so the impact isn't too hard. His fist rears back as I grab a handful of his shirt, preparing to return the hit, but then we're being pulled apart.

Tommy and Wade each have one of Trey's arms and Ethan puts a restraining hand against my chest.

Trey's face is red with rage. "I'm going to kick your ass for even thinking you're good enough to breathe the same air as Kat."

"Get over yourself, asshole," I bark at him. "Kat is being held against her will in some strange place and she must be terrified. You can try to kick my ass after we get her back, but I have to go now. I just wanted to tell you what was going on."

"We should call the police," Marcie suggests.

"No!" I shake my head. "They warned me not to involve the police and if I did, not only would Kat be hurt, but they'd come after Sylvie. I don't know if it's a bluff, but I'm not risking it. I'm taking the bourbon to them and they said they'd release her."

"I'm coming with you," Ethan says.

"Me too," Wade grunts, letting go of Trey's arm.

"Fuck if you're leaving me behind," Trey adds, his eyes glacial as they lock onto me.

"And I'm going too," Tommy says.

"I figured you'd all want to come but someone needs to stay here with Sylvie," I say, turning to face Tommy. I have a feeling he's going to be the decision maker. "My suggestion is Ethan comes with me and everyone else stay here with Sylvie."

"I don't like this," Fi says, her hands wringing. "Maybe we should consider the police."

I struggle to remain calm, forcing myself to take a breath and I soften my voice. "Mrs. Blackburn… please don't risk Kat's life like that. Their instructions are clear and I'm gladly willing to give up that bourbon. If that gets Kat back safe and keeps Sylvie safe, that's what we need to do."

"I agree," Ethan says, and his brothers nod, although Trey makes a show of cracking his knuckles. Not sure if that's for me or Kat's kidnappers. "Where's the bourbon?"

"In secured storage at the distillery. It won't take me but a minute to get it and then I've been texted an address in Louisville to take it."

"Then I suggest you get going," Tommy says.

"You should bring weapons," Wade suggests.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I had considered it myself but quickly abandoned it. "I really think all the man wants is the bourbon and then it will be over."

I don't dare tell them I was sent a photo of Kat blindfolded with a gun to her head.

"Are you sure?" Ethan asks with worry. "Because I don't want to go to a gun fight without a gun."

"Yeah… I mean, I'm pretty sure."

Trey launches himself at me again but his dad and Wade intercept him. He screams at me over their shoulders. "You better be sure, asshole. That's my sister's life."

"Weapons won't be needed," I grit out.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Ethan demands again and I get why he is pushing the point, but I'm out of goddamned patience.

"The only thing I'm fucking sure about is that I love your sister, okay? I'm going to get her now. You can come if you want but no weapons."

Once again, the room goes deathly silent as everyone stares at me slack-jawed by my admission. But it's Trey who breaks it by lunging again. "Going to kick your ass."

I don't let Tommy or Wade stop him, instead meeting him head-on. Both my hands grip his shirt and I drive him backward now, right into the counter. He grunts in pain as his lower back—hopefully his kidneys for extra enjoyment on my part—collides with the edge. "I don't have time to deal with your bullshit. You can be a baby about this or you can man up, but I don't have time to dick around with you."

I release my hold on Trey and spin away from him, not concerned at all that he might attack. I saw his own fury change into chagrin when I called him a baby.

"I'm leaving. Ethan… are you coming?"

"Yeah, and I agree. Trey and Wade should stay here with Dad."

A small argument breaks out among the brothers, the younger ones not wanting to be left behind. I don't wait for them to figure it out but by the time I make it to the front door, Ethan's the only one at my side.

Once we're in my vehicle, I note the whole family standing on the front porch watching us. Tommy holds his wife close, Marcie beside Fi holding her hand. Wade leans back against the doorframe, a worried look on his face. Trey stands with fists clenched, looking like he wants to murder me.

Kat has a lot of people who love her and what do you know… that includes a Mardraggon.

I'd prefer silence between me and Ethan but he has too many questions as I drive to the distillery and I can't say I blame him. I just dropped some bombshells and this has to be immensely shocking to him.

"Go over again the chain of events and how this occurred," he says.

"A little over three weeks ago, not long after my dad was removed as chairman of the board, two men showed up at my house. They told me my father had been gambling with their boss… a man named Clinton Rafferty… and he bet a case of our 1921 Shadow Reserve in a high-stakes poker game."

"And lost," Ethan says.

"Not only lost, but refused to pay up. So Rafferty sent his goons to try to scare me into giving it up."

"Scare you how?"

"Threatened me, went and roughed up Lionel—"

Ethan turns in his seat, his words crusted with ice. "And you didn't think that would put Kat in danger?"

I glance at him briefly before turning my eyes back to the road. "Kat and I weren't together then."

"Wait a minute," Ethan huffs with frustration. "When exactly did you and Kat start seeing each other?"

Hmmm, that's a difficult question to answer but I might as well spill the entire truth. "Our freshman year at UK."

"What in the hell?" Ethan exclaims and then rubs the bridge of his nose. "You were… back in college… but she never said anything."

"Because I wanted to keep it secret." I let that sink in and Ethan picks up on the regret in my voice.

"And she didn't. She wanted to be open about it," he surmises.

"And we broke up because I was an idiot. Caught up now?"

"No, I feel like I'm spiraling down the rabbit hole," Ethan mutters. "But you reconnected when…" His words trail off and then he curses angrily as he puts it all together. "When I asked her to handle the winery with you. Goddamn it."

"Yes," I drawl sarcastically, shooting him a glare. "It's all your fault."

"No," he snarls. "It's all yours."

"No," I snap back at him, refusing to take the full blame. I can have regret, sorrow and anger that this has happened, but I didn't cause it. "This is Lionel's fault, but you know what… it's your fault too. And your parents, and brothers, and Kat's, and mine, and every other idiot ancestor we have. This stupid fucking feud that's been egged on by generations of hate and I'm sick of it. It cost me the girl I loved eight years ago and once we get Kat out of there, I'm not going to let it interfere in my life again. So you and your numb-nut brothers need to get on board with the fact that Kat is mine and our families are tied together now, even more than Sylvie bound us."

I brace for a blast of righteous indignation from the man but he stares out the window and I enjoy the silence.

At the distillery, I enter through the same door I brought Kat through a few days ago, a different security guard meeting us and waving us on. Ethan follows me through the mash house portion of the plant, the sweet, cereal-like aroma washing over me. Ethan eyes the large grain mills and mash tuns where we mill the corn, rye and barley down into grist before mixing it with water. It goes into the tuns to convert the starches into fermentable sugar, and from there, it goes to an annexed building and into huge fermentation tanks.

We don't go that way though, instead exiting out the back of the mash house and walking across the campus. We pass the distillation units and finally approach the aging plant which houses row upon row of charred oak barrels, stacked ten high on shelves. This building is different from the others in that in addition to requiring a key to get in, it requires a passcode. These barrels are the epicenter of our business and the most valuable part of the plant, so they are protected with the highest security.

I punch in the code and we enter, moving down the center aisle of the long brick building with concrete flooring. At the end is another door with another security panel that requires a different passcode, this one known only to me and my Uncle Terrance. My father used to have it but I changed it the day he was ousted.

I press in the nine digits that unlock the door and glance at Ethan watching with interest. The door opens to an anteroom that has a table with two leather chairs to sit in but what causes Ethan's eyes to bug out is the massive steel door before him. It's as large as those used in bank vaults and just as secure. It requires my thumbprint to unlock and then I spin the large wheel to slide the bolt free. I pull the heavy door open and flip on the light.

"Whoa," Ethan says as he takes in the custom-built wooden shelves that hold a variety of steel lockboxes. On one side of the room is a large bookcase stacked with leather-bound journals, records of all the bourbon production from the time our doors first opened in 1849. Other boxes hold important documents regarding the Mardraggon empire from land grants, trust agreements, contracts for sale and even some prenup agreements that were used down the generations. There are even some old diaries and letters, all perfectly preserved as this room is temperature and humidity controlled.

None of that interests me now because it's the case of 1921 Shadow Reserve I'm after. It's on its own shelf along with a handful of other rare bourbons. While the Shadow Reserve is our oldest, it's not the only one worth money. However, I'd give up every single case right now to get Kat back because it suddenly seems silly to have such things sitting in here accumulating age with no enjoyment.

I snag the case off the shelf and turn to Ethan. "Let's go."

He hasn't said a word since we set foot on the property and I see a million questions in his eyes. I can tell he's interested in the plant, the processes and all the secrets this room holds, but now isn't the time.

We have more important things to do.