Chapter 9 #2
Shit . What if Hugo Durant was still in the bar? Easton strode to the restrooms, Vander and Rome falling in behind him.
He shoved open the door to the ladies’. A middle-aged woman was refreshing her lipstick. “Hey, just because you boys are hot, doesn’t mean you can just barge into the ladies’ room.”
“There a blonde woman in here?” Easton asked.
The woman shrugged. “Just me, darling.”
Easton strode in and checked each stall.
“I’ll check the men’s room.” Rome disappeared.
A hot rush of panic hit Easton. Shit . Where was she?
They met back in the hall. Rome’s face was thunderous. “I’m sorry, Easton, she isn’t here. I’ve no idea how the fuck someone took her. I was watching, and I didn’t see her come out.”
“Security tapes.” Vander swiveled and strode to the bar.
It took a few menacing looks, and a couple of threats from Easton, but the bar manager agreed to let them watch the tapes.
They squashed into a small office in the back of the bar. Saxon joined them, while Rhys stayed with a worried Gia and Haven.
“Shit quality,” Saxon muttered.
They watched the comings and goings of the bar. The quality wasn’t very clear, but there was a camera right outside the entrance to the restrooms.
Easton felt Rome vibrating with rage. The man was damn good at his job, and Easton knew he’d be enraged that someone had gotten Harlow on his watch.
Easton was just worried about Harlow. If anyone hurt her, he’d burn down the city.
“There.” Vander froze the image.
It was a couple. A woman with bright red hair, leaning heavily against a man.
“I saw them go in just before Harlow,” Rome said.
Of course, Rome would have noted everyone’s movements in the bar.
A moment later, the couple left, and then a blonde sauntered out of the restrooms.
But she wasn’t Harlow.
“Wait.” Easton waved a hand. “Rewind.”
Vander froze the image on the couple again.
“She looks unsteady,” Saxon noted. “Had a few too many drinks.”
“Her shoes. Those are Harlow’s shoes.” Easton had watched her put the damn things on. “The redhead is Harlow.”
“Fuck,” Rome exploded. “And the blonde must be the redhead who went in.”
Vander pulled out his phone and thumbed it. “Ace, I’ve got pics of a man and woman I’m sending your way. Looks like they drugged Harlow, then took her out of the bar. I need you to find them.”
Drugged? Easton stared at the image, at the way the woman had stumbled against the man, and the way the man appeared to be holding her upright. His hands balled into fists, his torn knuckles stinging.
Vander stepped in front of him. “I’ll find her.”
“Shit, Vander—”
“We don’t know who’s got her. There are no signs that she is in immediate danger.”
“There aren’t any signs that she’s safe, either.” Easton turned and punched the wall.
“Do I need to lock you in my office?” Vander asked.
“No. I want to help find her.”
Vander lifted his chin. “Let Ace work his magic. We’ll find these assholes, and then we’ll find Harlow. Meanwhile, I need to make a few calls.”
They headed back into the bar. Gia’s face was pale and pinched. Haven had an arm wrapped around her.
“Harlow?” Gia asked.
“Working on it.”
“Oh, Easton.” His sister hugged him. “She’s tough. I get the impression she could organize a war and not get flustered.”
“Yeah, but I think her entire freaking family leans on her. They let her take care of everything.” He ground his teeth together. “I promised her that I’d keep her safe.”
“She’ll be fine. You have to believe that.”
“Can you get her handbag? Grab her keys and go to her place. I want you to pack her some clothes. Enough for a while. Then drop the stuff at my place.”
Gia smiled. “Is she moving in?”
“Yes.” As soon as they found her. “I’m heading to Vander’s office.”
Vander had bought a warehouse in South Beach to house his business. He’d gutted and renovated it to turn into the Norcross Security offices.
The bottom level was a garage, along with holding rooms and a large gym. The main level consisted of glassed-in offices for his team. The top level with a roof terrace was Vander’s living space.
Easton ruthlessly controlled himself as he drove to the Norcross warehouse. He waited for the garage door to open, drove in and parked, then jogged up the stairs.
He made a beeline to Ace’s office.
The man’s domain was a windowless room covered in computer screens.
Ace Olivera’s long, rangy body was sprawled in a chair. He’d been born in Brazil, but raised in the US. The guru of all things tech had his long, dark hair pulled back in a stubby ponytail. He’d spent several years at the NSA before Vander had lured him away.
“Hey, Easton,” the man said. “Nothing yet, amigo , but I’m working on finding your girl.”
Easton paced across the office. “You got them outside the bar?”
“Yeah. They loaded her into a sedan.”
Easton knew he was hovering, but he couldn’t stop. Every ping on Ace’s computer had him leaning over the man’s shoulder.
To his credit, Ace didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t long before Vander appeared in the doorway.
“Easton, you’re slowing Ace down, not helping.”
Fuck . He pressed a hand to the back of his neck. He hated this helpless feeling.
For a second, everything blurred, and he heard shouts and echoes in his ears. Knowing that a terrorist attack targeting US troops was imminent, but unable to get the required intel from the captured insurgent. The man had just laughed and laughed. Easton hadn’t been able to save them.
“Easton?”
He jerked, and met his brother’s gaze.
“Come with me.” Vander spun on his heel.
Easton followed Vander upstairs. His brother had a fancy electronic lock on the door, and he pressed his palm against it. It beeped and opened.
The entire floor was open plan, with only Vander’s bedroom and bathroom walled off. The place had an industrial vibe, with lots of natural wood and black iron. The sleek, modern kitchen was tucked into the back of the space, and accordion glass doors could be opened up onto the large roof terrace.
Vander didn’t have parties up here, or people over often. He guarded his personal space zealously.
Vander crossed the living area and went to a built-in bar. He grabbed a bottle of Scotch, poured two glasses, then turned and handed a glass to Easton.
“Here.”
Easton tossed it back and savored the burn.
“So, she’s the one, huh?”
Easton looked at Vander. “What?”
“Never seen you like this with a woman.”
Easton set the glass down on the coffee table. “Like what?”
“Like you’re a rottweiler, and she’s your favorite bone.”
“I’m not sure that flatters me or Harlow. I want her. Desperately. And I want her safe.”
Vander nodded. “Her father’s in deep, Easton.”
“I suspected as much.”
“Could be she’s using you for money.”
Easton paused, then laughed. “You think I can’t spot a user? I can pick them before they open their mouths. Harlow won’t fucking take anything from me because I’m her boss.” He straightened. “When we get her back, that’s going to change. Get her back, Vander.”
“I will.”
Vander’s phone rang.