He took a healthy swig, telling his boys, “Letha’s out.” Leo and Tommy looked from their apoplectic father to each other, and squinted. His face flushed with rising blood pressure, though his deadly calm tone belied it when he added, “I don’t care where she is. You find her and bring her home.” Tom growled, “I knew it!” Knew it would happen the minute they turned their backs. Had been sure of it when they drove up and saw search teams all over the place. “You should have called us.” He and Leo had just arrived home from a long day of golfing business mergers, buzzing from a late business dinner and gentlemanly pursuits--the absolute must for men living under the same roof as Letha. There wasn’t enough alcohol, pharmaceuticals and tension-relieving sex out there to counteract the frustration she brought them. She had been locked up when they’d left the house. Under guard. Three guards, to be exact. But that had been a mistake. And she had been under those guards. Not having been back long himself, Lion snorted, “I thought we’d find her.”
