Chapter 21
21
GARRETT
M y fingers drum against the desk in my office, each tap echoing my growing frustration. Five fucking days of radio silence from Ruby, and it’s eating me alive. The snow’s been coming down hard outside, turning the brewery’s courtyard into a winter wasteland that matches my mood.
Knox hasn’t stopped pacing since he got here. His usual easy-going nature is nowhere to be found. He’s all tense shoulders and grinding teeth as he stares out the window. Even his designer outdoor gear looks rumpled, as if he’s been sleeping in it. Knowing him, he probably has.
“I can’t take this anymore.” Knox turns, raking his hands through his already messy hair. “Sure, we’re giving her space and time, but she’s fucking ignoring our messages and calls. I’ve done fuck all since she found out we planned our dates with her. And I’ve been such a mess.”
I get it. My brewery crew’s been giving me a wide berth lately. Apparently, I’ve been a bear to work with. The latest batch of stout needs testing, but I can’t focus on shit. Every flavor reminds me of her.
Dominic’s sprawled on my leather armchair, but there’s nothing relaxed about him. His dark eyes are sharp as ever, and his fingers keep twitching toward his phone. Guy’s probably fighting the urge to hack into every security camera in town just to get a glimpse of her.
“We’re in the same damn boat,” he says, his voice rough. “And I agree. I want to go see her again. We’ve given her time, and I need to explain our part.” He sits forward, jaw tight. “Fuck, I want to apologize, to make her know we fucked up. And you know I’m not a man who apologizes lightly.”
The leather of my chair creaks as I lean back against my window. Cold seeps through my flannel shirt, but I barely notice it. My brewing notebook’s been sitting untouched in my back pocket for days—can’t think about new recipes when all I can taste is guilt.
“I’m ready,” I say, surprising myself with how raw my voice sounds. “This waiting game is fucking strangling me.” The words barely leave my mouth when a knock comes from the room. “Come in,” I call out, expecting one of my brewers with a crisis.
Instead, Cindy, my assistant, pokes her head in. Behind her stands Ash, Ruby’s bartender, looking like he hasn’t slept all night. My stomach drops. Whatever brings him here can’t be good.
“He insisted on talking to you,” Cindy says, worry creasing her forehead as she pushes her mousey blonde hair out of her face.
The moment Ash steps into my office, I stiffen, on high alert. Knox stops pacing, and Dominic straightens in his chair.
“Ruby’s missing,” he says.
Two words. Just two fucking words and my world tilts sideways.
The words turn my veins to ice, and I’m across the room before I realize I’ve moved.
“What do you mean, missing?”
“She didn’t show up to work yesterday.” Ash runs his hands over his face. He looks like hell, with dark circles under his eyes and hair a mess. “Thought maybe she was sick, you know? But she’s not at home, not answering her phone. Lily, her best friend, hasn’t heard from her, either, and trust me, that girl would know.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?” Dominic’s voice is deadly calm, but I know that tone. It’s the one that makes smart people start running.
“The day before last, at closing. She was...” Ash shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Man, she was devastated. Like, I’ve known Ruby for years, seen her through some shit, but this was different.”
Knox makes a sound like he’s been punched. I know exactly how he feels. My chest hasn’t stopped aching for days.
“She gave each of you a piece of herself,” Ash continues, looking at each of us in turn. “Her heart. And finding out about the setup? That broke something in her. She’s spent years building walls, protecting herself, and you guys? You got through them. All three of you.”
“We didn’t mean to hurt her,” I say, my voice rougher than intended. “We wanted to have her experience something real, not a fucking blind date. Something real in the way she met us.”
Knox quietly nods, still staring out the window.
Dominic stands abruptly, phone already in hand. “I’m calling my team. We’ll access every camera in town, track her movements. Something will show up.” His fingers fly over the screen. “I’ll head to the office now.”
“Knox and I are paying Marcus a visit,” I announce, already grabbing my jacket.
“I’m coming with you,” Ash starts, but Knox cuts him off with a flick of his hand.
“No. We need you at the bar in case she shows up or tries to contact you.” I pull out one of my business cards, scrawling my personal number on the back. “Call me immediately if you hear anything. Anything at all.”
Minutes later, we’re in Knox’s massive SUV, chains on the tires crunching through fresh snow. The streets are still busy with evening traffic, brake lights glowing red through the swirling white. Knox is driving more carefully than I’d like, but even I have to admit, the roads are treacherous.
“We should have gone to her sooner,” Knox mutters, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Should have camped outside her door until she talked to us.”
“If that bastard Marcus touched her...” I let the threat hang in the air. We all know what that piece of shit is capable of. Dominic’s background check had turned up enough red flags to cover a firing range.
“We’ll bury him,” Knox says simply, and coming from him, it carries extra weight.
The investment firm’s building looms ahead of us, all glass and steel. Normally, I’d appreciate the architecture, maybe note how it would look on a beer label. Right now, all I can think is that Marcus better be in there somewhere.
I’m through the revolving doors and halfway across the marble lobby before Knox can even park. The receptionist startles as I approach, probably because I look like I’m about to commit murder. Which, depending on what I learn here, isn’t entirely off the table.
“Marcus Winter. Where is he?”
She blinks up at me, manicured fingers hovering over her keyboard. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t?—”
“Now.” The word comes out as a growl. Behind me, I hear footsteps, and I turn to see Knox approaching.
“Is there a problem here?” A deep voice cuts through the tension. I twist back around to find an older man approaching us at reception, white hair perfectly styled, wearing a pinned suit. Two security guards flank him, but they’re hanging back, watching.
“Douglas Sterling,” he says, extending his hand. “I own Sterling Capital Partners. And you are on my premises…”
“Garrett Reynolds.” I accept his handshake. “I need to speak with Marcus. Now.”
His eyes narrow slightly, taking in my flannel shirt and jacket, my worn jeans, and the brewery logo on my jacket. There’s something calculating in his gaze.
“Perhaps we should discuss this privately.” He gestures toward a hallway.
Knox steps forward. “We’re not leaving without answers.”
Sterling’s expression doesn’t change, but something in his posture shifts. “Follow me.”
His office is exactly what you’d expect—all mahogany and leather, with a view of the mountains that most likely makes him feel like the king of the world. I remain standing even when he motions to the chairs.
“Ruby Winters is missing,” I say without preamble. “And your stepson has been threatening her for months.”
That gets his attention as one of his thick eyebrows arches. “Missing? Explain.”
“Nobody’s seen her for close to two days. And Marcus has been trying to run her out of business at the Winterscape Bar for months. Coincidence?” I lean forward, palms flat on his desk. “I want to find him before I get the police involved and start crawling all over your company. Because I promise you, Marcus will be suspect number one.”
Sterling steeples his fingers, studying me. “You said Winterscape Bar? Eve Winters’ place?”
“Ruby’s place now. Her aunt left it to her.”
“Ah.” He leans back. “And you’re aware of the condition in Eve’s will? About marriage by Christmas Eve?”
The words hit me hard. “What?”
“If Ruby isn’t married by Christmas Eve, the bar passes to Marcus.” Sterling’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t know.”
“I thought...” My mind is racing. “I thought he was just trying to run her out of business to buy the place for investment purposes.”
Sterling sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. “That fucking idiot had plans to develop the property, but I told him not to get his hopes up on inheriting the property from Eve. I’ve kept him out of my business dealings because of his temper, but I promised his mother on her deathbed that I’d look after him.” He looks up at me sharply. “He has... issues. Rage issues.”
“Where is he?” The words come out barely controlled.
Instead of answering, Sterling pulls out his phone, dialing. After several rings, he frowns. “No answer.” He tears a page from a notepad, writing quickly. “His address and number. I need to know immediately if he’s involved. He’s had too many warnings already, after his last few charges?—”
“Sexual assault and battery,” Knox cuts in, and I watch the man’s face go pale. Dominic’s background check had been thorough. Too thorough, now that I think about what Marcus might be capable of.
I snatch the paper. “If he so much as touched her?—”
“He frequents O’Malley’s Bar on 5th, The Red Room downtown, and there’s a cabin retreat up at the other end of town,” Sterling rattles off. “Give me your number. I’ll make some calls, see if anyone’s seen him.”
I recite my number, already heading for the door, when his voice stops me.
“Mr. Reynolds.” There’s something heavy in his tone. “I want him alive.”
I turn, meeting his gaze.
“For his mother’s sake, I can’t bear to see him go that way,” Sterling continues, his voice hard. “But I promise you… if he’s done what we fear, I’ll make his life such hell, he’ll wish he was dead.”
The drive to Marcus’ mansion feels endless, each mile stretching like an eternity through the swirling snow. Knox barely says a word, the air in the car thick. I keep checking my phone, willing it to ring with news from Sterling or Ash. Instead, Dominic’s name flashes on the screen. I put it on speaker.
“She was fucking kidnapped.” Dominic’s words hit like bullets. “Yesterday, late afternoon.” There’s a sound like something shattering in the background, and knowing Dominic, it’s probably an expensive piece of tech meeting his fist. “I’ve got the footage. A black van, no plates, pulled up outside the bar. Two men in masks.” His voice breaks slightly. “They grabbed her. Ruby fought like hell, but they used something, probably chloroform. Those fucking cowards.”
The heaviness in my chest threatens to suffocate me. Knox’s hands tighten on the wheel, and I watch his jaw working as he grinds his teeth. She’s been gone, and we had no idea. I’ve been sitting in my brewery, drowning in self-pity while she...
“There’s more,” Knox forces out, his voice rough as old gravel. “Sterling told us something about Eve’s will. If Ruby’s not mated and married by Christmas Eve, Marcus inherits the bar.”
“That cock-sucking piece of shit!” Dominic’s voice explodes through the speaker. Something else crashes in the background. “He’s behind this. Has to be. The timing’s too fucking perfect.”
“Of course, that motherfucking bastard is,” Knox snarls, slamming his palm against the steering wheel. His usual easy-going nature is gone, replaced by something feral. “That’s his game? Keep her locked up until Christmas Eve passes?”
“Three days.” The words taste like ash in my mouth. “He only needs to hold her for three days, then she loses her bar.”
My fingers dig into my thighs hard enough to bruise. “Why didn’t she tell us about this? About any of it?”
“Because maybe she didn’t exactly trust us? Didn’t want to seem like she wanted our help?” Knox’s voice is bitter.
The snow’s coming down harder now, thick flakes dancing in the headlights. My brewing notebook digs into my back pocket. How many times had Ruby sat at my bar, helping me taste test new recipes while this deadline was hanging over her head? While that bastard was threatening everything she loved?
“We’re headed to Marcus’ mansion,” I tell Dominic. “I’m messaging you the address. Meet us there.”
“Already on my way.”
The mansion looms ahead of us through the storm, a sprawling Victorian monstrosity set back from the road. Dark windows stare out like dead eyes, and despite the perfectly maintained grounds, there’s something abandoned about the place. Dominic’s black Aston Martin is already parked out front.
“Place is empty,” he says once we approach, his dark eyes hard. Snow dusts his hair, and there’s a raw scrape across his knuckles that wasn’t there this morning. “I checked the back, broke in. No alarm system—amateur move—but no one’s home.”
He pulls out his phone, fingers flying across the screen as he approaches my driver’s window. The security footage plays stark black and white, and my stomach lurches. Ruby steps out of the bar, tugging her hood up against the snow. The van appears like a ghost, and then... God. Her struggle. The way she kicks out, fighting with everything she has. Then, her body goes limp inside as the door slides shut.
Knox makes a sound like he’s been gutted. I taste blood and realize I’ve bitten through my lip.
“The van heads north out of town,” Dominic continues, his voice clinical, but his hand’s shaking with rage as he flicks through camera feeds. “We lose it after the Morrison turnoff. No more cameras out there.”
“Let’s go out there,” Knox states. “I know that area like the back of my hand. Done trekking up there. If they’re holding her somewhere, we’ll find it. There are only so many places accessible in this weather.”
“Drop your car down the road,” I tell Dominic. “We’ll pick you up. No sense leaving evidence we were here if Marcus returns.”
Soon, all three of us are in Knox’s vehicle. I can’t shake the image of Ruby going limp in those bastards’ arms. The woman who kissed like sin. Who crashed into my world and left me chaotically obsessed with her.
The snow falls harder as we head north, but nothing can erase the fire burning in my chest. Hold on, Ruby. We’re coming for you. And God help anyone who stands in our way.
Knox steers us through the worsening storm, the headlights barely cutting through the thick curtain of snow. Every minute feels like an hour. The surveillance footage Dominic pulled showed their vehicle heading north, but after thirty miles of careful driving, we hit a fork that splits three ways into the darkness.
“We lose camera footage farther back. So, which fucking way now?” Dominic states.
Knox’s eyes narrow as he studies each road, the windshield wipers fighting a losing battle against the storm. He leans forward.
“Those two paths on the left? Just highways. Nothing but empty road for hours. But up there?” He gestures to the right fork. “There’s a bunch of old buildings. Some abandoned ranches. Marcus isn’t trying to skip town. He just needs to keep Ruby hidden until Christmas Eve.”
“Three days,” I growl, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.
“Exactly.” Knox shifts into drive. “He’ll want to stay close to town himself. The main roads are too obvious. Has to be this way, and we’re going to hit every single one until we find her.”
Dominic murmurs his agreement as Knox takes the turn, our headlights illuminating the snow-covered path ahead.
Hold on, sweetheart.
We’re coming…