Chapter 31 Devon
DEVON
I laid out the complete story for the detectives, clean and fast. Jason Horton, the payoff, Marty’s hundred thousand, the Arrow connection, all of it. They took notes, asked questions, then told us to hang tight as if that was even possible with Zoey missing.
Then we waited.
And fucking waited.
And every single minute that passed, a fiery rage for both Jason Horton and the LAPD grew inside me.
Lofton and Brooke must have put a thousand miles on the tile floor of that restaurant.
Every time I’d guide her back to a table, she’d last about ninety seconds before she was up again.
I stayed on my phone. Leo stayed on his.
We moved through the space in overlapping orbits, working every angle we had while, God willing, the detectives were working theirs.
Jude pulled a chair next to Brooke and sat with his elbows on his knees and said absolutely nothing, which turned out to be exactly what she needed. Because she finally stopped pacing.
And then she started spinning the damn soy sauce again.
It was my fault.
Not in the way Leo would frame it—not the clean, professional assessment of a man who had made the correct call under impossible conditions.
No, it was the other version, the true version, where I had been forty feet away with a clear line of sight, a loaded weapon, a decade of training, and I had sat in that car watching a man snatch a child from her mother.
The worst of it was, I would make the same call again. Given the information I had at the moment, assuming Lofton was the target, I did what I was supposed to do.
But knowing the right answer didn’t make the weight of it any lighter.
I looked at Brooke. Blood soaking through the gauze.
She’d gone to her knees on that pavement.
She’d clawed at him with everything she had.
She’d hit the ground hard enough that I’d heard it from inside the car.
Then she’d gotten back up anyway and kept going because that was what mothers did, and I had sat in that car and watched it happen.
And Lofton.
I had pinned her against the seat while a child she loved with her whole heart screamed for help.
I would carry that. The sound of Zoey’s voice in that parking lot. The look on Lofton’s face when I’d told her I couldn’t leave her. The specific image of Brooke on the pavement, with blood running into her eyes, still trying to get to her daughter.
I would carry all of it for the rest of my life.
And the only thing I could do to make that weight bearable was to get that little girl back.
Finally, exactly eighteen minutes later, Brooke’s phone lit up on the table.
Unknown number.
Her hand shot for it, but I was faster. My fingers closed around it, my other hand coming up, one finger pressed to my lips.
The room went absolutely still. Every person in it holding their breath simultaneously.
I answered it and put it on speaker. “What do you want?”
The voice that came back was wrong. Mechanical. Processed through something cheap that flattened every human quality out of it. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Cut the shit, Jason. If you’re gonna snatch a kid, at least have the balls to use your real voice.”
Silence for a few seconds. Then a click, and the filter dropped.
What came through instead was breathing—ragged and fast, running hot on whatever he’d snorted up his nose or shot into his vein.
“Where the fuck is Brooke?”
Brooke shook, and I couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or rage. I shook my head at her, a silent order to stay quiet.
“You’re not talking to her,” I said. “You’re talking to me. Where’s Zoey?”
He laughed. The laugh of a man who thought he held all the cards. “All right, tough guy, how about I let you listen to me put a bullet in her head and—”
“I’m here!” Brooke’s voice cracked across the room before I could stop her. “I’m right here, Jason. What the hell are you doing?”
“Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere.” He laughed. “Where’s your girl?”
“You took her,” Brooke seethed.
“Not that girl. I mean Queen Moneybags.”
Lofton started to say something. I put my hand up and she stopped.
“You don’t get anything else until I have proof of life,” I said.
“For fuck’s sake,” Jason grumbled. Then there was rustling. Movement. A door somewhere opened.
And then a sound hit the room like a bomb.
“Mommy!”
Brooke came absolutely unhinged, flying toward the phone. “Zoey!” she cried, reaching for it as I slid it away. “Baby—”
“Mommy, I want to come home.”
“I know, I know, I promise I’m coming to get you. Just hang on, baby, I’m on my way—”
“Mommy.” A hiccupped sob. “I can’t find my purse.”
“It’s okay,” Brooke choked out. “We’ll get you a new one. I’m coming, baby. I’m coming—”
“Enough,” Jason cut in, Zoey’s cries dropping to a soft whimper behind it. “Now, is Lofton with you or not?”
I looked at Lofton and dipped my chin.
“I’m…” she started, barely able to speak. She cleared her throat. “I’m here.”
He laughed, long, slow and deeply pleased with himself. “So fucking predictable. I think you forgot a zero the last time you paid me. You got twenty million on that piece of shit movie. Then you gave me half a mil for my own fucking kid? You cheap bitch.”
“Tell me what you want,” Lofton snapped, her emotions shifting to anger.
“Five million. Crypto. Untraceable.” He was speeding up now, the way people did when they’d been rehearsing something and had finally gotten to the part they’d practiced most. “You show up—”
“No.” I cut straight across him. “She’ll pay. You’ll get your money. But Lofton and Brooke are out of this. You deal with me. Same way you dealt with Marty.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Do I get to put a bullet in your chest too?”
That hit Lofton like a sledgehammer. Her whole body jolting.
I didn’t rise to it. “Even exchange. You don’t see a dime until I have eyes on Zoey.”
“Fine.” His voice dropped. “But don’t try to pull any shit. If I smell so much as one cop, you’re gonna need that money to bury her. And if you think I’m bluffing and decide not to show, you’ll never even find her body.”
“Jason, please.” Brooke shouted. “She’s your little girl. She didn’t do anything wrong. Please, don’t hurt her.”
“I would never hurt her. Jesus, I’m not a fucking monster.” There was a long, loaded silence. “I’ll make it fast so she never sees it coming.”
“Jason!” Brooke yelled.
“I’ll text you the address.”
The line clicked dead.
For exactly one second, nobody moved.
Then the room came apart. Voices overlapping from every direction. Leo, Jude, and Lark were already on their phones, but I moved straight to Lofton.
She was already coming straight for me, so we collided in the middle. Her arms went around my waist immediately. Full body, head to toe, cheek to chest, she anchored herself to me.
“Babe.”
“I know you’re going to tell me you’ll be okay and you’ll come back and you’ll get her.”
“All of those things are true.”
“And I have to let you go because I have to get her back.” Her voice cracked straight down the middle. “But he killed Marty. And Derrick. And he shot Alex. He has nothing left to lose, and I can’t—” She stopped, shoulders shaking. “I can’t lose you too. I’m telling you right now. I can’t do it.”
I put both hands on her face and forced her head back to look into my eyes. “You won’t. I am not going anywhere. I’m gonna go get her. I’m gonna bring her back. And then you promised me forever. I can’t miss that.”
“I’m scared,” she confessed.
“I know. But I have to do this. And I need you to let me go so I can hurry up and get back, because for the first time in my entire fucking life, I got a woman worth holding on to. And nothing, especially not Jason fucking Horton, is going to stand in my way. Okay?”
Something moved across her face. God, she was so damn scared. But deep down, inside those blue eyes that absolutely owned me, was the sparkle of trust.
I kissed her. Brief and complete, pouring every bit of myself into it as if it would give her something to hold on to until I could get back . And there was no question about it, no matter what it took, I was coming back to her.
“I love you,” she whispered against my mouth.
“I love you too.” I smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Figure out what you want for dinner while I’m gone. I’m assuming sushi is out, but I think we’re both gonna need the trifecta tonight.”
She half-laughed, half-cried.
I lowered my mouth to her ear. “The paparazzi are outside. I need you at that window for thirty seconds. Just stand there. Let them see you. Give Leo and me a clean exit.”
She pulled back and eyed me closely.
It was a big ask in the middle of such a traumatic situation.
She nodded without the first blink of hesitation.
I kissed her one last time and then walked to Brooke.
She looked up when I stopped in front of her. Whatever she saw in me made her eyes flash wide.
I crouched to her level, bringing us eye to eye.
“You may not like me, but I swear on my life, you can trust me. I’m gonna get her back.
You have my word. I need you to send me that address and then delete it.
Wait about fifteen minutes and then go tell the cops you got a call.
Give them all the details. Don’t mention that he sent a location until you hear from me, okay? ”
“Okay,” she whispered.
I offered her a warm smile. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”
She reached out and gripped my forearm. “Be careful.”
“Always.”
When I righted myself, Leo was already at the door, ready to roll.
Fuck it. I guess he couldn’t fire me twice.
Sweeping my gaze to Jude and then Lark, I dipped my chin.
I didn’t have to say a word.
Jude moved to Lofton’s shoulder.
Lark moved to Brooke.
I glanced back one last time.
Lofton was already at the window. Cardboard peeled back. Cameras erupting on the other side of the glass. A wall of light aimed directly at her, and she stood in the center of it without flinching, giving them exactly what they came for.
Leo and I walked out the door and disappeared.