Chapter 19 Where is She?
Where is She?
Lore
Hearing the Imperial March blast from my nightstand was the absolute last thing I wanted to wake up to.
But Taylor knew I wasn’t a morning person and actively avoided speaking to me before coffee, so if he was calling I knew it was urgent.
Grant, being the ever-helpful human pillow, rolled the slightest bit beneath me as he reached over to pluck the vibrating phone and set it on his chest next to my face.
“Heaven forbid I get a day to sleep in after getting good dick,” my complaint was muffled as I rubbed my face back and forth. Grant chuckled and pinned the phone with his hand so it wouldn’t fall off onto the mattress. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a break around here?”
“To be fair, you chose to stay up late for the cam session.”
I groaned miserably. Taylor’s ringtone stopped for a second, then started up again. “Fine, fine.” Cheek squashed against Grant’s solid pec, I pressed the answer button and brought it up to my exposed ear. “Hey T, what’s–”
“Patty hasn’t called in.”
Taylor’s voice was low and gruff, laced with concern.
He must be on the bike from the muffled sound of traffic in the background.
The post-coital bliss from a minute ago was effectively burned away in light of Taylor’s implication.
Patty always reported every twelve hours, like clockwork.
If something happened to her as my decoy, that meant someone was actively out for me.
My body was moving before I could catch up, sliding to the edge of the bed and pulling myself from the warm sheets. “Lore?” Grant called, rubbing his face with a hand and yawning wide enough to make his jaw pop. “Is everything okay?” he called after me.
I was out in the hallway and darting toward my room before he could even get out of bed. “When did you last hear from her?”
Taylor cursed in Irish. “She was riding with Brad on his bike back to her apartment around ten last night. We were together at the warehouse while I checked the latest arms shipment. She said she would change and then head to the club to bartend until closing. I expected her to call me an hour ago, we were supposed to go to breakfast.”
“Fuck!” I couldn’t hold back the outburst and slammed the side of my fist against the hallway wall. My thoughts spun wildly, thinking of all the possibilities of what could have happened to her. “Where the fuck is Brad?”
“I tried calling him too. No answer.”
So either Brad was a fucking traitor, or he was dead.
“I’m headin’ out,” I snarled. Movement over my shoulder caught my eye, and I saw Grant stepping into the doorway.
He’d only put on his pants and was shrugging back into his button-up.
“Lock down the Merrow. Don’t let anyone out until I get there.
Someone had to have seen her, or the cameras picked up something. ”
“Got it.”
The line disconnected, and it took the minimal amount of restraint I possessed to not launch my phone across the room. “Something wrong?” Grant’s voice was low and raspy from sleep, but beneath it was concern. “What happened at the club?”
“I gotta shower real quick and leave. You have until then to get the hell outta my place.”
“Lore.” Sympathy drenched his voice. “I can—“
Nope, nope, nooo fucking way was I letting Grant get involved in this.
So I resorted to the worst possible attack I could manage.
Spinning to face him, I mustered all the hatred I could manage while standing mostly naked in my damn hallway.
Seriously, fuck this guy for getting under my skin like this!
“Just because we fucked once doesn’t mean you have anything to do with the Riot.
” The acidic tone burned my throat even as I spoke the words.
“I’m not your mate, I’m not your girlfriend, and I barely tolerate your ass.
Now get the hell outta my sight while I deal with real issues! ”
Thud, thud, thud. Every heavy step away from Grant was a kick right to my chest. But I had to find Patty, and I had a feeling someone was monitoring Grant enough to know he was here with me, distracting me, while they stole Patty out from under my nose.
She was the perfect bait, after all. I would never leave her.
For Grant’s sake, he had better be out of my condo before I finished my quick rinse off.
Rushing to the gun safe tucked away in the closet, I threw on a simple black moisture-wicking long sleeve and cargo pants.
My body was on auto-pilot as I strapped on a thigh holster, two wrist sheaths loaded with my trusty knives, and a Glock, and slung a shotgun across my back before loading the many pockets of my pants with ammo and basic medical supplies.
Grant was not, in fact, out of my condo when I bolted from my room and slammed the door shut.
He hovered by the front door, fully dressed and put back together with his backpack slung across his back.
“Lore, let me help with whatever’s going on.
Just let me ride with you to the club. I can set up in the office and do the tedious things for you.
Look through feeds, track cellphones, anything. ”
Emotions I couldn’t take the time to parse out and deal with pounded through my veins and turned my sight red.
Snarling in his face, I gripped his already-wrinkled shirt in both fists and pushed until his back slammed against the wall just beside the door.
“I already told you what you can do, Grant.” The words were barely recognizable, garbled from the growl rumbling in my chest and the fangs sharpening in my mouth from a partial shift.
I’m sure I looked like a hot fucking mess, but he didn’t even flinch at the intensity of my rage.
“Stay the fuck outta my way! This is Riot business, and you are not part of it!”
With one hand, I reached over to throw open the front door and hauled us both out into the empty hall.
The security system I designed locked the condo down once it sensed my phone—on which the app that controlled it ran constantly—was far enough out of range of the door.
If Grant would not leave on his own steam, I was going to haul him with me to the garage.
His whole body was tense as I dragged us down the hallway and called the elevator.
“Why won’t you trust me?”
I barked a laugh, but the sound was empty of all joy. “Trust you? Grant, there’s a fifty-fifty chance whatever happened to Patty is because of your feckin’ boss and his goons. Why the fuck would I trust you with anything now?”
He flinched like I’d actually punched him in the face, his expression twisting to show the pain of the phantom hit. “You’re my mate, Lore! What else do I have to do to prove I wouldn’t betray you?”
“More than stick your dick in me, that’s for damn sure.
” As soon as the elevator doors opened for the underground garage, I used the grip I still had on Grant’s shirt to shove him one-handed toward the Riot member I knew was on guard there.
“Make sure he gets back to his place. Don’t let him follow me. ”
“Roger that, boss,” he replied. One burly hand landed on Grant’s shoulder and made him look like a child being hauled off by his father. “Come on, man. Let’s get out of here.”
There was some scuffling and exclamations behind me as I stormed to the spot my bike was parked in and yanked open the locker on the wall to pull my helmet out.
“Lore!” Grant’s broken yell nearly had me turning around to throw myself back on him.
“Fuck, get the hell off me! Lore, don’t—fucking let me go, asshole!
” The men’s yells echoed off the concrete walls of the garage and filled the space with testosterone-flavored aggression.
Slamming the helmet on my head only muffled what was quickly becoming a yelling match as the guard wrestled Grant to the ground.
I tossed my riding jacket on, zipping it up with jerky movements before throwing my leg over the bike’s seat.
The roar of the Ducati’s engine drowned out the rest of whatever skirmish broke out by the elevator, and I peeled out of the parking spot toward the ramp leading up to the exit.
Hang on, Patty. I’m coming for you.
Taylor insisted on an SUV and an escort to take me to the club.
I met him halfway after another heated but short phone call, and let a Riot member on patrol catch up with me.
The biker came to a stop beside me about five minutes from the condo where I waited in a public parking lot, knowing I would never hear the end of it from Taylor if I didn’t.
He must have been in contact with Taylor before I even left.
The rider flipped his visor up. and Kent’s familiar blue eyes wrinkled at the corners in a smile.
The Bluetooth in my helmet chirped to indicate an incoming call.
“Hey, boss,” his voice came through the speaker as he followed me out of the lot onto the empty street. “Can we avoid driving like bats outta hell tonight? I’ve got a raging headache.”
“Maybe lay off the whiskey, bro. And I don’t think either of us wants Taylor on our asses if we don’t make it to the club in less than fifteen minutes, so no can do on the tame riding.
” We pulled up to a light as it switched to green, and I gunned the engine to dart off ahead of Kent.
“But I promise to at least stay off the—woah, shit!”
An SUV suddenly swerved into my lane, and I narrowly avoided becoming a bloody bumper sticker. Kent echoed my surprise through the speaker, cursing up a storm when he got boxed in a few cars behind me. “Motherfuckers don’t know how to drive or what?” he complained loudly.