Chapter 111: Words or Jabs?
"Tyler, calm down..."
"I WILL NOT!" Tyler roared, spinning to face him. "That fat loser Kingsley... he took her. He touched her. He gets to sleep beside her now?!" His voice broke as he slammed his bloody foot against the ground again, rage eclipsing the pain.
Daniel eyed the blood trailing behind his son. "You’re hurt..."
"Do I look like I care?" Tyler snapped. "Where are they?! Where are those useless Adams! I told you to bring them! I want to shoot them in the head for failing me!"
Daniel clenched his jaw. He didn’t give a damn about Jean Adams. That girl was nothing but a pawn... he’d only ever mattered to Tyler. But this... this madness was dangerous. His son was spiraling. If Tyler didn’t get what he wanted soon, he would burn the whole world down.
He reached for his phone, his voice low and resolute as he said, "I’ll get her back. Just hold on. I’ll bring Jean to you."
Tyler turned to him, chest still heaving, his eyes filled with something feral. "You’d better. Because if you don’t... I swear, I’ll make Logan Kingsley beg for death."
Later that night, Daniel sat in the dim light of his private study, fingers tapping against his desk as he mulled over the rising storm. A direct move would put too much heat on him. Tyler’s obsession had already drawn too much attention. No... he had to be smart.
Strategic enough to plot his plan.
He reached into the bottom drawer and pulled out a worn, encrypted contact book.
He flipped through it until he found a name that hadn’t surfaced in years... Marcus Hale.