Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
ZANE
R ubbing my eyes, I give myself a small reprieve from staring at this damn case file. Liam and I have interviewed everyone possible, and there’s still no sign of Ava Thomas.
Hank hasn’t even heard anything. I’m close to resorting to searching every damn warehouse, abandoned building, and crack house in New York. Cain has to be using one of them as his new prep house after Asher, Rio, and I raided the last one. We found it after we busted the so-called “party” Cain had put on.
“Is there another informant? Someone besides Hank?”
I sigh. “Not unless you’ve turned anyone recently.”
Liam looks just as ragged as I do. His baby is having a hard time sleeping at night, and it’s showing in his appearance today. Poor guy is on his fourth cup of coffee, and it’s not even lunchtime yet.
I’m not much better off. I stopped counting how many cups I’ve had after I got to three. One would think that finally sleeping with the woman of my dreams would settle me. But I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind. This morning I couldn’t find my badge—I practically tore Rio’s room apart, searching for it. I even tiptoed into my bedroom while Spencer slept and dug around in there. After giving up on the search, I got to work, opened the top drawer of my desk, and found it sitting there, right on top.
“Let’s start at the beginning and go back over everything, start to finish. That’s what you always say to do when we’re stuck, right?”
Rubbing my eyes, I answer, “Right.”
Liam stands and begins to pace. “Ava was kidnapped outside Sunny’s Market. Her sister, Ella, saw Ava get taken by two men who drove off in a white van. From Ella’s description, we assume that Ava was subdued with chloroform. Then we have five other missing persons reports of women from ages twelve to twenty-five, and that’s just the ones on our case load.” He pauses in his path and rubs the back of his neck, staring at the floor. “What if they’re all connected? Am I crazy for thinking that?”
Smart man.
“Do you have any evidence suggesting they’re connected?”
Liam’s hands rest on his hips and heaves a sigh. “Just my gut.”
My head nods. “Then keep digging.”
“What?” Liam’s head snaps up.
“Trust your gut, but you need evidence to back it up.”
Scratching his head, Liam paces again. The guy is going to wear a hole into the weathered tile if he does this much longer. “Okay, okay. Evidence. Right.” He plops down in his chair and types away on his keyboard.
When Liam starts making calls, my phone vibrates on my desk. Picking it up, I check the GPS notification.
Goddammit, Dustin.
“I have to leave early today,” I comment as I rise from my chair, gathering my things. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know if you come up with anything.”
Liam nods with his phone to his ear as I pass his desk.
Traffic is awful, but it feels like it takes longer than normal. When I’m at a dead-stop, waiting for traffic to move, I shoot off a message to Asher, asking him to meet us at home.
Keeping my composure is difficult when I know I have two perfect people waiting at home for me, and my agitation grows as I realize I won’t be able to spend time with Spencer and her luscious body.
Fucking Dustin. Again.
When I pull up to the brownstone, I jump out of my car and bound up the steps, taking them two at a time. Entering through the front door, I’m hit with the smell of sex.
The scent of Rio and Spencer’s love-making makes my dick harden.
Why did I go to work again today?
My focus snaps to Rio, who is digging through the fridge. Shutting the door quietly, I sneak up on him from behind.
He’s bent down, riffling through the produce, completely oblivious to my presence, when I wrap my arm around his neck and haul him into my chest. I secure my hold by grasping my wrist with my opposite hand. Rio struggles, accidentally kicking the refrigerator door closed, until he hears my voice.
With my lips right next to his ear, I whisper, “What have you been up to today?” Then I take his ear in my mouth and scrape my teeth over it.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” Rio groans.
Releasing my wrist, Rio falls forward an inch. I whip him around and push him up against the fridge door. “Tell me something, how did she feel?”
A roguish smile spreads across his face. “Like you don’t already know.”
Our bodies slam together at the same time and our mouths glue together in a passionate kiss. I get his bottom lip between my teeth and bite.
“I didn’t take you for a jealous lover, Z.”
“I’m not,” I growl. “I hate that I wasn’t here to participate. Speaking of, where is Spencer?”
Rio grips the front of my shirt, bringing us back together. He grinds his erection into me, and I hold back a moan. “I fucked her so hard and so good, on every surface in the house, and now she’s worn out and asleep. We did it on the kitchen counter, in the shower, on the couch, in your bed . . .”
We’re about to go back at each other when my phone buzzes again.
Shit.
Another notification about Dustin.
Fuck this guy. I hate that we need him.
I wish he would just die in a ditch.
I turn my phone around to show the screen to Rio. We break apart and begin discussing what to do about the prick. When Rio and I finish putting our plan together, Asher walks through the front door.
“Why the fuck does it smell like sex in here?” he asks with a wrinkled nose.
“Well, pendejo , when two people are attracted to each other?—”
“I know how sex works, dumbass,” Asher interrupts then plops himself on the couch. He stretches his arms above his head, causing a few pops to come from his body, then leans his head back against the top of the couch and closes his eyes. “Okay, I’m here. What’s going on?”
Rio slaps Asher on the shoulder as we pass him on our way out. “You’re on Spencer duty.”
Asher sits up. “The fuck I am.”
I show him my phone.
“Ah, shit. Fine. But I’m not reading her a bedtime story.”
Rio snorts. “ Ya está dormida .” She’s already sleeping.
“It’s the afternoon. Why is she . . . never mind, I don’t want to know.”
After Rio walks out laughing, I turn to Asher. “Don’t hurt her.”
He turns stone cold. “There’s nothing going on.”
“Bullshit. Don’t play stupid, Ash. I know something happened the other night at her apartment. That woman loves food, but she somehow fell asleep before we could get there with her dinner.”
Ash winces. He may be composed, but we all know how to push each other’s buttons. “It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”
I shake my head at him. “You’re an idiot.”
“What?”
“I didn’t stutter. It’s obvious she cares about you. I saw the letter she left you. The trash isn’t exactly a great hiding place.” I let out a sigh, done with this argument. “She’s not Rachel. Don’t confuse the two. Rachel was selfish and then drowned in her grief—she didn’t want our help. In the end, we weren’t enough for her. Spencer isn’t like that.”
“Then why did she try to run?” he bites back.
I head for the door but turn back before I exit. “You know the answer. We all do.”
The beginning of our drive is quiet. It’s a long way to La Guardia, and Rio’s smug attitude has faded as he stares out the window. He didn’t even try to fight me on the music when I put on Green Day.
“Talk to me,” I prompt him.
“If we want her to be truly ours, we have to tell her everything.”
He’s telling me what I already know. I may not be excited to relive the torment I endured, but for her, I’d endure it all over again.
“I told her about Izzy.”
My head snaps around to him. The car swerves, earning me a few honks. “What?”
“I had to tell her. Solana told her a bit, so when Spencer asked, I told her the truth.”
“Shit.” I drag my hand through my hair. “What about Asher?”
“What about him?”
“You walked in on them kissing and we both know something happened with them the other night.”
“What’s between them is between them. After Rachel, I’m surprised Asher is willing to be with anyone at all. We can step in if he hurts her, but until then, we should let them figure it out on their own.”
Just the thought of anyone hurting her has me grinding my teeth—even if it’s my best friend. No one hurts my Angel.
Switching topics, I hand Rio my phone with the map open, showing him the dot we’re following on the screen. “Looks like he’s still heading for La Guardia,” I inform Rio as I weave through traffic.
“How? He doesn’t have fingers. No dedos significa que no manejas .” No fingers means no driving. Rio laughs as his own joke.
I can’t help but to roll my eyes. “He’s probably on the subway or something.” My focus darts back and forth between the blue dot on my phone and the crazy drivers on the road.
“ No me gusta que lo necesitemos, pero lo entiendo ,” Rio complains. I don’t like that we need him, but I get it. “Ash’s stakeout of Euphoria didn’t give us shit. So now we need this pendejo .” Asshole.
When we arrive at the airport, I don’t bother parking in a proper parking spot. I pull up to the curb and show the angry ramp agent my police badge. She shakes her head at me and grumbles a not-so-quiet “entitled man” to herself.
We walk through the automatic sliding doors and spot him right away. He’s wearing a beanie, sweats, and a hoodie in the middle of summer, and is standing at the airline counter.
Does he think he blends in like that? Fucking idiot.
The attendant at the counter gasps when she sees his hands, and we appear behind him. Rio grabs Dustin’s shoulders and leans in.
“Dustin, mi amigo , what’re you doing here? How did you get out?”
Dustin’s face turns ashen, and his hands—or what’s left of them—begin to shake. “How?—”
My hand latches onto his arm. “I’m so sorry, miss. He’s not supposed to leave his room. You know”—I lean towards her—“the padded kind of room.”
Understanding dawns on her face, and her focus darts between the three of us.
“Wait—No—I?—”
I cut off Dustin’s protest with a hand over his mouth.
Rio steers Dustin towards the door and calls over his shoulder, “We’ll just take him back now. Thanks!”
Dustin doesn’t put up a fight until we have him in the car. He thrashes in the back seat and attempts a few swings at me and Rio. Before he can cause any real damage, I subtly slip the syringe from my pocket, stick the needle in his neck, and push down on the plunger. The fight in him dies almost immediately as he slumps down in the seat.
“ Buenas noches .” Then under his breath Rio mutters, “ El hijo de puta no se aguanta .”
Son of a bitch still can’t take a hit.