Chapter 47
LUKE
My dick glides in and out of Rory’s puckered hole as he’s bent over the side of the couch in my office. My hand reaches around and strokes his cock.
Rory groans, thrusting into my hand. “Fuck, Luke! That feels good.”
After a few strokes, Rory comes all over my hand and the couch. Pistoning my hips one more time, I come inside him.
We collapse together in a heap over the arm of the couch.
“Shit, Luke. You’re going to kill me,” Rory teases.
“Me? You’re the one who came into my office and started sucking my dick,” I accuse.
Sliding onto the couch all the way, we laugh, and Rory peppers my chest with kisses.
My phone vibrates on the coffee table. I read Hunter’s name and snatch it, sitting upright. “What’s up?”
“Is that Hunter?” Rory questions, and I not my head.
Hunter’s tone is grave. “Are you still at RHL?”
My brows drop, a wrinkle forming between them. “Yeah, why?”
“Get to the penthouse now. He took her.” Hunter ends the call.
I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it, confused.
“Everything okay?”
“No. We have to go.” I jump to my feet, searching for our clothes that are strewn about.
Rory gets up and helps. “Home?
I slide one leg into my pants then the other. “Yeah. He said someone took Savannah.”
“Shit. Who?” Rory slips his shirt on, buttoning it up only halfway.
I slide my feet into my shoes, not bothering to find my socks. “I don’t know.”
Rory grabs the last few pieces of clothing he needs. “I’ll drive.”
Emergency lights on multiple vehicles flash in the night. A few people loiter like they’re just here for the drama of it all.
“Holy shit,” Rory curses, and drives the car as close as possible. He shifts the car into park, and we jump out, not bothering to retrieve the keys.
When we grab hold of the yellow crime scene tape, a police officer holds his hand up and stands in our way. “You have to stay behind the tape.”
“We live here,” I argue back.
Another man walks over, patting the officer on the arm.
“They’re okay.” He leads us to the sidewalk in front of our building, where Hunter chews on his thumbnail, staring off into space.
The man who let us through motions to himself and another.
“I’m Detective Zane Kingston, and this is Detective Liam James. ”
Despite what Hunter said on the phone, I still ask, “Where’s Savannah?”
“Missing,” Hunter answers.
My chest hollows, and my hands shake.
Rory’s shoulders pull back as he bellows, “Why are we standing around here then? We need to get out there and find her.”
“I promise we’re doing everything we can,” Kingston assures us.
My eye twitches.
“Then why are you here?” Rory accuses.
James replies, “We need to ask you some questions.”
I finally break. “We don’t have time for questions!”
Kingston holds up his hands. “Look, I know what you’re feeling. The panic, the anger. I get it. I’ve been there. Trust me when I say that I want to help, and I will do everything in my power to find Savannah and bring her home. Asking you some questions will help me do my job.”
My jaw clenches. “Fine.”
Kingston and James lead us over to a black tarp on the ground that has a shape under it. Kingston crouches down and lifts one corner, showing us what’s under there. “Do you recognize him?”
What the hell is he doing here?
Hunter responds for all of us. “We only know him by his nickname. Slicer.”
James looks down at the pocket notebook in his hand. “The ID in his wallet says Peter Long. Do any of you recognize that name?”
Hunter, Rory, and I all shake our heads no, and I curse myself for not looking into Slicer sooner. I should’ve taken care of that.
“Witnesses said that they saw Peter arguing with Savannah. Then another man showed up and shot Peter. He chased Savannah but caught her quickly. Then he took her,” Kingston relays.
My gut twists. “Savannah wouldn’t go without a fight.”
Which means she’s probably been hurt…
Rory’s lip curls. “Did anyone see the man’s face?”
James sighs. “No. All the witnesses we interviewed said he was covered head-to-toe. We couldn’t even get a skin color.”
Kingston looks to the three of us. “Where were you three when this was happening?”
I turn a piercing glare at him as I attempt to hold my emotions in check. “Are you accusing us of something?”
Kingston shakes his head. “I have to establish your whereabouts for the record.”
Hunter’s mouth pinches. “I was upstairs in the penthouse with my chief security officer.”
“We were at our office building, RHL.” The muscles in Rory’s neck strain.
Kingston nods, closing his notebook and stowing it in his coat. “Thank you for your time. If we have any more questions, we’ll reach out. Here’s my card.” He hands Hunter a small card.
“Thank you, Detective.”
As soon as they’re out of earshot, Hunter lowers his voice. “Upstairs.”
We hurry off, following Hunter into the building and up to the penthouse. We quickly change our clothes, and in the kitchen, we pull up security camera footage and watch everything from Giselle bribing the doorman to let her up the elevator to Savannah being accosted outside.
My eyes just about pop out of my head. “Giselle was here?”
Rory groans, irritated. “What did that bitch want?”
Hunter sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “She was in my shower when Savannah got home and was spewing her poison like she always does when I got here.”
Rory crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “I’ve never hit a woman, but I’d be more than fine making her the first.”
Hunter tilts his head side to side, stretching his tense muscles. “Savannah called me, and I heard what Giselle was saying. All of it was lies, of course.” Hunter punches the counter. “I texted Calder, and he met me here.”
“Did he get rid of Giselle?” I question.
Hunter dips his head. “Yeah, but before I could talk to Savannah, she ran out. I chased her down, but I was too late.”
“She was wearing her shoes when she left, right?” I ask. Rory and Hunter look at me like I’ve lost my mind, but I ignore them and whip open my laptop, pulling up the app I created. “I got her.”
As soon as I say the words, Hunter rushes into the living room, returning with guns and ammunition and passing them to Rory and I.
Rory leans over my shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“I put a tracker in Savannah’s shoes. I wasn’t sure how well the range on them would work, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
Hunter shoves my shoulder playfully. “How did you know what pair of shoes to put them in?”
“I didn’t,” I admit, “I put trackers in all of them.”
Hunter’s mouth twists. “I would say that’s a bit much, but…”
Rory rocks back and forth on his feet. “Are we handing any of this over to the NYPD?”
My head swings in his direction. “Do you want to?”
Rory scoffs. “No. I’m just making sure we’re all on the same page.”
We all make eye contact, coming to the same conclusion.
Hunter slides the magazine of his Ruger LCR. “Let’s go.”