Twelve
TWELVE
Hart
Eight days.
For eight whole days, Reagan had been missing.
Locating her felt like a losing battle. No matter the effort we put in, no matter how hard we tried, we didn’t have a clue where she might be.
I’d reached the point where I wasn’t quite sure if I’d lost my mind. I hadn’t been able to eat much. I couldn’t sleep. I was sick with worry over her well-being.
And the mere thought of not seeing Reagan again, of not hearing her voice or listening to her laughter, was positively crippling.
I couldn’t deny it any longer.
I’d refused to face reality for far too long. Now that she’d gone missing, I had no choice but to accept the truth about what had happened between the two of us over the last year. If we didn’t find her, if I didn’t get her back safely, I didn’t think I’d survive without her.
So, I’d done everything I could think of to find her. I watched the video footage from her kidnapping over and over, the sound of her voice nearly bringing me to my knees every time.
I’d see the video, hear her sweet voice, and I’d recall the words I saw written on the page of her open journal.
He’s changed my whole life.
I didn’t realize I’d possessed the kind of superhuman strength it had taken not to turn that page, not to seek out the rest of her private thoughts. It already felt like an egregious violation of her privacy to read as much as I had. But those words played in my head like an endless symphony.
Hart makes me laugh. He makes me happy. He makes me feel good—both in and out of bed. There’s this thing he does with his thumb. He brushes it lightly along my jaw, and for a moment, I tell myself there’s meaning for him behind it. That it means something more to him than just physical touch in intimate moments.
How do I tell him? Can I tell him?
No. No, I can’t reveal the truth. It’s better to keep my secret and have him like this than it is to share my feelings and lose him forever.
Because he warned me.
And I’ve lost enough to know he’d never stick around. Nobody ever sticks around.
If I thought watching the video of Reagan being kidnapped was difficult to endure, it paled in comparison to the torture of recalling those words. She thought if she told me the truth about how she felt, I’d walk away from her.
Sure, I had made it clear I’d never be the kind of man who would get involved in a romantic relationship. But her words had left me wondering. How could she ever want to be with a man like me, a man she believed had the capacity to walk away from her like that?
Sadly, remembering those words from her journal and watching that video was my punishment. It was the punishment I’d suffer through until I found her and got her back in one piece.
I barely left Landen’s office for more than a week now. The two of us worked nonstop, combing through the clues, the evidence. We’d even brought Royce, Jax, and Leo–three other private investigators—in on the case just for added eyes and different perspectives.
To his credit, despite me having denied it all before, Landen didn’t call me out on my lie about Reagan and me not having that kind of relationship. This wasn’t the time to get me all riled up, and Landen knew I was already beating myself up enough as it was for not being honest with myself or Reagan before this all happened.
I was confident that after the case was solved, after we got Reagan back safely—something I was desperately hoping would happen soon—everyone would get on my case about how I was the guy who insisted he’d never fall in love, but now I was here and just like them. Putty in the hands of a woman.
I wasn’t the least bit bothered by the idea of it. In fact, I looked forward to the day it happened, because at least that would mean Reagan was back and safe again.
God, what a fool I’d been.
If I didn’t get the opportunity to tell her the truth about what she meant to me, I’d never forgive myself.
“Oh, no.”
I’d been pacing in Landen’s office, feeling hopeless and reminiscing about moments I’d had with Reagan when I heard those two dreadful words. My body came to a halt, and I focused every ounce of strength and energy I had on him.
“What is it?”
Landen was behind his desk, working at his computer. He’d been there for more hours than I wanted to admit. He was just as invested in this as I was. Not only did he have the family who’d hired Harper Security Ops to locate their daughter depending on him, but he also had one of his closest friends pleading with him to find something that would lead to us getting answers. Even worse, we’d gotten word that four more women had been reported missing since Reagan’s disappearance. The more time passed, the worse things looked.
“Landen?” I called impatiently when he didn’t respond.
He shook his head slowly, begrudgingly tearing his attention away from his computer to look at me. “We knew this was going to be bad.”
My stomach dropped. I hadn’t exactly been expecting great news, but I didn’t like that Landen was leading with those words. “And?”
“Obviously, we had a hunch about why all these women have gone missing lately,” he started. “I’ve been looking at all the evidence we have. Notes, texts, pictures. I’ve reviewed the video footage we have of the men who took Reagan, along with the footage from three others. Every single one had different men involved. Or so I thought. I successfully enhanced the video from Reagan’s house, and the driver who stayed in the car then is on camera physically carrying one of the other women. So, that linked the kidnappings.”
I lowered myself into the chair and leaned in. “I assume you have more than just that, considering we all believed these cases were linked from the start.”
Landen nodded. “I think I might know where she is, where they all are.”
As fast as I sat down, I shot to my feet and moved to the door. “You buried the lead, Landen. Where?”
My friend didn’t respond.
I twisted my neck and looked back at him. Time slowed down as I took in his expression, and when I spoke, my voice didn’t sound like my own. “Where is she?”
He shook his head slowly, his eyes darting around as though he was trying to figure something out.
“Landen! Fuck, tell me where she is!”
“Whoa, what’s going on here?” That question came from just outside Landen’s office. Damon was standing there, a clear look of concern in his eyes. He stepped into the room. “Did you figure something out?”
Damon knew.
As another member of the kidnap and ransom unit at Harper Security Ops, he was up to speed on the situation. He knew as well as the rest of the team. While there were instances when two of us could go in and handle a rescue, we had a feeling we’d need everyone to be aware of what was happening in this case. Too many women had gone missing, and if the disappearances were linked, it was likely we were dealing with numerous culprits.
Obviously, that I had someone who meant something to me involved was another reason word had spread about this case.
“Landen thinks he knows where Reagan is.”
Surprise washed over Damon’s expression. “That’s great. Let’s get moving.”
“You can’t.” Landen’s tone was firm, even if laced with frustration.
“Why not?” I was growing more and more impatient by the second.
“It’s too big. You’ll risk her safety, assuming she’s still there. Assuming she’s not lost to something much, much bigger.”
My muscles tensed further as Damon muttered a curse under his breath. Landen was right. I knew he was right. But my emotions didn’t care about that. Eight days of wondering, waiting, and fearing the worst wouldn’t allow me to see reason.
“You have to tell me where she is,” I pleaded.
“I’ll do it as soon as we’ve got a team assembled.” There was an undeniable promise in his tone. “And the police. Unless you’re planning to go in there and kill everyone involved, and which I’m not saying I’d blame you if that was the case, but it’s not going to be the best option for you. Not if you want to do what’s going to be best for her. You have to have someone there who is prepared to haul these assholes off to prison.”
Landen wasn’t mistaken about my willingness to destroy anyone involved in hurting Reagan. I didn’t yet know what she’d been through, but I didn’t need to know the details to be certain I’d do everything to avenge her.
I pinned my stare on my friend, sending a look his way that I hoped indicated I needed his full honesty. “You said she could be lost to something much bigger than a simple kidnapping. How bad is this? What is her fate if we don’t get her out in time?”
Thick, tense silence filled the air. Landen’s throat moved with a rough swallow, and for a moment, he hesitated. “This has got to be the largest human trafficking ring I’ve ever seen.”
I knew it.
Before the words even came out of his mouth, I knew that’s what this was about.
But there was a small part of me that hoped I’d been wrong, that thought maybe this wasn’t that bad.
Landen continued. “It’s one of the most sophisticated I’ve ever seen, too.”
My brows pulled together. “What makes you say that?”
“There’s a lot of money in this, Hart. It’s taking place right here in Steel Ridge, in a home in this town. It’s more of a mansion, a compound. But it’s in our backyard, and I don’t think there’s anyone who lives in that neighborhood that has a clue what’s going on right next door to them.”
I stood there, no less than a dozen thoughts running through my mind about what to do, how quickly it could be done, and if I would find Reagan alive and unharmed.
Damon sprang into action. “I’m going to get the rest of the guys on the team up to speed. I’ll let Royce know what’s going on, too.”
“Let me know what?”
Royce happened to walk by at that moment and join the conversation.
Damon jerked his head toward Landen. “I’ll let him fill you in.”
I lowered myself into the chair, my mind spinning as Landen told Royce what he knew. I didn’t pay much attention to the details I’d already heard once. Instead, my head was filled with thoughts of Reagan’s beautiful face and happy disposition. What was I going to find when we got there?
After Landen had given Royce everything he knew, Royce asked, “How much time are you thinking we’re going to need before we can move in?”
“I hope no more than three or four days.”
Days.
More days.
I shook my head. “I can’t wait. She might not have days.”
Royce walked over, clapped a hand on my shoulder, and squeezed. “We’ll get her out, Anderson. You can’t lose your cool.”
“She’s been with these psychopaths for eight days already,” I clipped. “If we know where she is, I’m going to go in for her.”
“We can’t risk her or any of the other women by going in blind,” Royce noted.
“We don’t have to.”
Both men looked at me curiously. “What do you have in mind?”
I hesitated for a beat, but it was more of an attempt to prepare them. I didn’t have to think twice about this. I was doing it, and I didn’t care if it would cost me everything. “This is human trafficking, right?”
Landen nodded. “Yes.”
“So, we find a way to show that I’m an interested buyer, and we do it quickly.”
“Hart, are you sure that’s wise?” Royce questioned me. “What about Reagan? Won’t she blow your cover?”
I dropped my gaze to my feet. This was what it would cost me. Because I’d seen the way she looked at me sometimes when I took calls about work. She questioned what I did, and I knew she had some concerns about my work. Given that I hadn’t shared, it was entirely possible that she was going to believe that this was why I hadn’t told her anything.
I lifted my chin up and shifted my attention between the two men who I had so much respect for. “She doesn’t know what I do, so I can easily play this part.”
“And you’re okay with letting her think you’re that kind of man?” Landen pressed.
“I will do whatever it takes to get her out of there alive,” I told him. “Even if that means I have to make her hate me.”
He dipped his chin with understanding. Then we got to work on putting together a plan to make it happen.
* * *
I sat outside in the parking lot, waiting.
The last thing I wanted to do was delay this any longer than I already had, but I couldn’t risk this not being believable. Getting to Reagan, being able to be on the inside—even if it wasn’t in the capacity that would have her running into my arms—and ultimately getting her out was all that mattered.
Right now, that meant I was going to be playing the role of a man interested in what these pigs had to offer. And the man I was meeting had arrived at the upscale restaurant ten minutes ago. I had men on the inside, and I’d just gotten word that the guy I was meeting was seated at the bar, waiting for me.
If I was the kind of man who did the kind of thing that I was about to pretend I did, I had a feeling I’d be someone who didn’t show up on time, who believed everybody would wait around for me.
I had intended to wait another five minutes before heading inside, but an image of Reagan flashed in my head, and I couldn’t delay any longer.
I got out, walked to the front door, and didn’t think twice as I pulled it open and stepped inside.
Never had I thought I’d ever sit down with a criminal and do what I was about to do.
But that was probably just what love was about—willingness to do anything for the other person, no matter what was at stake.
I could only hope that when I finally had the chance to tell Reagan the truth about everything, she’d be willing to listen.