While I Breathe: The Veiðimenn Mob, Book One

Ten

Two weeks later, Hans Stevensson stood with his coffee in hand as he stared out the window at the busy city streets. His father had passed peacefully in his sleep, which was the best anyone could hope for.

Though his mother was in mourning, she’d taken comfort from Carter. It was painful, but the knowledge that Carter would take care of the woman in her older years gave them peace of mind. Letting their mother know they wouldn’t deny her request, they encouraged her move into Carter’s personal house in Dalvik. With his sister now the Grand Donna of their mob, he returned home with a renewed hope.

Taking a breath, he looked up as his secretary walked in, wringing her hands fretfully. “Sir, my daughter has a school play the day after tomorrow, and I was hoping to get off work early. I’ll make up for it, Sir.”

He arched a pale blond brow. He assumed that all of his people knew that he was a family-man, yet this young mother seemed afraid. “No need. In fact, for all your hard work recently, I’m giving you a week off with pay.”

Relieved and shocked, she nodded, “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

When she was gone, he sat down and looked at the email he got from David one more time. It came two days prior, and he’d put out the call to let Erik know right away. As a child of the system himself who had gone back into the fold to work it, David was an asset he couldn’t lose. He hadn’t failed yet, which was why Hans had sent him. Though it had taken some time, the man finally found his long-lost son.

So many people told him to give up the search before he went bankrupt, but money was nothing without his boy with him. He didn’t give a solid damn about the cash flow as long as his son was returned to him.

As he finished his coffee, he thought back to when he had met Emily Victors. Smiling dreamily, Hans sat thinking about how she would never have given up the search for their child, either.

He powered down the computer as the itinerary for his private jet came through on the printer. Eight years had passed since he last saw his son. It had been the most aggravating, painful eight years of his life. No amount of drugs or alcohol could numb the pain in his heart.

Thinking back, Hans sighed as he slipped his paperwork into his briefcase and walked out of his office. He made his way over to the elevator and punched in the code for the apartment where he lived. He could remember taking the boy for ice cream when he was nine. It didn't surprise him at all that Callum loved the same flavour as his mother: mint chocolate chip.

Hans had memorized everything about his child, right down to the last detail. As far as Hans knew, the only things Callum had got from him were the golden waves that framed his face. Everything else, he’d inherited from his mother. Then again, he no longer knew his boy’s personality.

The memory of their last encounter came to him clearly, as though it had happened only yesterday. It had been the last day he'd seen his son, and the pain still ripped him apart inside. Though the business trip he’d attended had taken him out-of-province, he never expected it to lead to an eight-year separation.

The elevator came to a stop, the steel doors sliding open to his penthouse suite. Throwing his jacket over the recliner, he walked over to the bar and poured himself a glass of Scotch.

“I heard the news. So, when are we leaving,” Erik asked as he walked over to the bar. He'd been friends with the Drake brothers since they were in high school, accepted them into his ranks as his right-hand men, and eventually became their uncle-by-marriage after their biological uncle married his sister Katrin.

“Tomorrow,” Hans replied as he poured them each a drink. “I’m going to need a team. No more than fifteen of our best, and make sure Robbie is one of them. I hate that you came out of retirement for this, but I know why. You still feel guilty and want to see it through, don’t you?”

“Hans, I’m close to clocking you right now. Yes, I still carry the guilt that I wasn’t enough to protect him, but I know that it’s useless to wallow when I’m needed. You’re my friend, my uncle. If anything, I owe you for the favour of letting me participate in getting Callum back home. Was there anyone in particular you had in mind for the mission?” Erik replied.

He knew what mentioning his part in it would do, but he didn’t care. The guilt had eaten him alive for years, and he was sick of it.

Hans shook his head, "You really like preaching to the choir, don’t you? I need you on the mission, but I’m also leaving your ass behind when I come home. Make sure to give them the low-down and tell them not to draw too much attention. You, on the other hand, can do as you please."

"One and done, my friend," Erik replied.

“Good,” Hans commented as he snapped his briefcase shut. “Make sure the jet is ready to go in the morning. I want to be there before tomorrow evening.”

Erik nodded, “Absolutely.”

******

The more David dug around, the more he realized that the reason there was never a paper trail was because no one officially filed the case under the correct name. David sat back in his chair, letting out an exasperated breath. Suddenly, his cell phone buzzed from somewhere under the pile of papers.

“s**t! Where the hell did I put it?” He whispered. He rummaged until he found the phone that was ringing like crazy. One of the stacks toppled to the floor, revealing the cell phone with an unknown number flashing on the screen. Picking it up, he answered the call. “Hello?”

“Is this David Marks? The Social Worker?” A girl’s terrified voice gave him pause. She sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place from where.

“Yes, how can I help you,” he replied. An icy chill swept through him, making it hard to breathe. Swallowing tightly, he licked his lips.

The girl sobbed, gasping for breath as she struggled to speak. “Please, you have to help him. You have to take him out of here before my father kills him. Please, I never wanted this to happen. I wanted to help him, I just… please come save him."

“Whoa, slow down,” David grabbed a pen and notepad. “What’s your name?”

The girl explained that she'd called the office for help many times, but no one had ever gone to the address. She’d even slipped notes to the visiting case workers, but nothing was done. Knowing that information ate at David in the worst sort of way. His mind whirled and everything seemed to move in slow motion. Only people who were in it for the money would be so callous with the life of a child.

“Ambrosia Reyes," she sobbed. The call went silent for a moment as she whispered to someone with her. She shrieked as someone banged in the distance before coming back on the line. "You have to come tonight, please! They're going to kill him.”

“Kill who, Ms. Reyes? Who are you talking about?” David pressed as he gathered his coat and keys. He ran out of the motel and over to his rental car.

Please, don’t say the kid’s name, he thought as he started to panic. If anything happened to Callum, Hans would take great pleasure in making David suffer for his mistakes.

Hans didn't take prisoners. He took the lives of the people who crossed him.

She sobbed, “I’ve been nice to him, and I tried to help as much as I could. I promised him I wouldn’t get in the middle if it came down to a fight, but I can't keep up at this rate. You need to get Callum out of here. Oh, God…”

The phone dropped to the floor, followed by a slam in the background. He heard someone groan in pain, a numbness making him feel like his life had already ended. Again she came back on the line. “My father just tried to get in through my window, but I pushed the ladder off. Please, please help Cal.”

David’s heart damn near stopped when he heard the name pass her lips. Mike promised him that the kid was safe, he swore up and down that the kid was safe. Every time he called, he'd been told there was nothing to worry about. Cursing the man for lying to him, David peeled out of the parking lot.