Chapter 33
Instinct twists in my gut as we drive back to Malibu from the Hollywood Hills. I pull my phone from my pocket, swipe to my favorites, and call Devyn. I hold the phone to my ear, listening to the dialing tone that seems to stretch into infinity.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Then voicemail—her sweet voice asking me to leave a message.
I don’t. Instead, I hang up and try again, which also goes unanswered. Instinct slowly turns into panic, clawing its way up my throat. I try Damon next, gripping the phone so hard the case flexes in my hold.
It rings.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then voicemail.
My heart is racing, a violent percussion that deafens me to everything else, before I even manage to end the call. With shaking hands, I try Devyn again, then Damon, then Devyn, repeating in hopes of a different outcome. Each call ends the same: No answer. No answer. No answer.
“Drive faster,” I growl at Jagger.
“Gunnar—”
“Drive fucking faster!”
He doesn’t argue. The SUV accelerates, the engine roaring as we tear through the pre-dawn streets, the world blurring into streaks of light and shadow. Hawk is silent in the passenger seat, his huge frame tense, worry radiating off him like heat, matching my own.
Something is wrong. I know it with a certainty that transcends logic, the primal part of my brain screaming to be heard. It’s the same certainty that has kept me alive all these years as I’ve constantly thrown myself into life-threatening situations.
Devyn is in danger. Devyn is… I can’t finish the thought. If I finish the thought, I’ll lose what little control I have left.
We reach the house in what feels like hours.
The gate is closed, and everything appears normal as we make our way up the drive.
I jump from the still-moving SUV, hitting the gravel at a run, my boots slipping slightly before I find my footing.
I race toward the front door, gun already in my hand, my finger on the trigger guard.
I don’t wait for the others. I can’t. Every second is an eternity, every heartbeat a lifetime of terror.
“Devyn!” I scream as I burst through the door, the sound tearing my throat raw. “Devyn!”
I’m met with silence. Absolute, devastating silence.
I bellow her name again, and it echoes through the foyer, bouncing off hardwood and glass, returning to me empty. No response. No footsteps.
I pull my gun fully, the weight familiar and comforting, and I sweep the living room with the efficiency of years of training.
The space is empty and pristine. I find the den and Sarah’s office in the same state.
Moving toward the kitchen, each step taking me deeper into a nightmare I can’t wake from.
The kitchen light is on, spilling out into the foyer. With it, the strong aroma of coffee.
Forging through the threshold, I find food and coffee on the counter, arranged with casual domesticity that makes my stomach lurch.
Six cups. Two empty plates, and one with an uneaten croissant.
I’m about to leave and head upstairs to search the bedrooms when I catch a boot on the floor by the island from the corner of my eye.
Just the toe of it, visible past the cabinetry, black leather and laces.
My heart stops, and I struggle to breathe or take a step.
No…
I move closer, my gun leading the way as my heart hammers so hard I can feel it in my throat.
When I round the island, I find Damon, lying lifeless on the floor, his body twisted at an unnatural angle, his face pale and slack.
“Damon!” I holster my weapon and drop to my knees beside him, my hands on his shoulders.
It’s shallow and erratic, but he’s breathing.
I slap his cheek in quick succession, the sound sharp in the quiet kitchen. “Damon! Wake up! Damon!”
His eyes flutter, groggy and unfocused, struggling to find consciousness. “Wha… Gunnar?”
“Where’s Devyn?” I demand, my voice harsh as my grip tightens on his shoulders. “Where is she?”
Damon blinks, confusion clouding his features. He tries to sit up but fails, falling back against the floor. “I… Uh… I don’t know.”
His words hit me like a physical blow. “What the fuck happened?” I snarl, shaking him as I lose my control. “Where is she? Where’s Devyn?”
“Jake…” Damon’s voice is thick, slurred, his tongue uncooperative. I check his vitals as he continues, “Jake stopped by… with breakfast… and the next thing I know you’re slapping me my across the cheek and screaming in my face… He must have… The food…”
Jake?
“Jake? Devyn’s agent?”
Damon nods, and the pieces click together with devastating clarity.
He’s known her for years. He knows her schedule, her habits, her vulnerabilities.
The man who has keys to her gates, access to her homes: years of trust built on professionalism and friendship.
We’ve all spent time around him, trusting him.
The encryption key that Mattis found was planted, meant to lead us astray and send us chasing the wrong man while the real threat stayed hidden in plain sight.
“Fuck!” The roar tears from my chest, primal and anguished.
It’s the sound of a man watching his world crumble before him.
My arm sweeps across the counter in a violent arc, sending the coffee and pastries flying to the ground.
The paper cups scatter across the hardwood as the cold liquid in them splatters across the cabinets and floor.
“I’m so fucking sorry…” he whispers, his voice breaking with the guilt of what happened on his watch. “Gunnar, I’m so sorry… I didn’t know… I thought he was safe…”
I promised I would keep her safe, and I failed. I fucking failed her.
With trembling fingers, I pull out my phone and dial Mattis, my thumb slipping twice before I get it right. When he answers, I don’t wait for his greeting. I flip it to the speakerphone and toss the call onto the island.
“What the fuck did you miss?” I scream, my voice unrecognizable, broken by fear and fury. “What the fuck did you miss?”
“Gunnar?” Mattis’s voice is confused, alarmed. “What are you talking about? What’s happening?”
“Devyn is gone!” I shout, pacing along the edge of the island. “Damon is drugged on the floor! Jake took her! Jake fucking took her!”
There’s silence on the line, the weight of Mattis’s shock palpable through the speaker. “Jake? Her agent?”
“Yes!” I roar. “What the fuck did you miss?”
Mattis stammers, his usual confidence shattered, “Nothing… I went through everything yesterday to confirm. Everything points to Colton. The encryption key, the timeline, the—”
“Well, it’s not fucking Colton!” I cut him off, my anger echoing around the room.
“Colton is a piece of shit, but he’s not our fucking guy.
He wasn’t stalking Devyn. He knew nothing about the fucking website.
While we were beating the wrong man half to death, Jake was here, in her house, taking her! ”
Hawk appears in the doorway, gun drawn and face grim, as he takes in the scene. He rushes over to Damon, checking his vitals as he listens to me shout at Mattis.
“Gunnar,” Hawk admonishes slightly, trying to calm me. “We need to focus. You need to ca—”
“I’m not going to calm the fuck down!” I scream, whirling on him, my gun still in my hand. “This fucking psychopath has been right under our noses the entire fucking time! Watching, waiting, and planning! We missed it! We fucking missed it!”
I slam my fist into the cabinet, the wood splintering as pain shoots up my arm. It’s a dull ache compared to the crushing weight of failure and the suffocating certainty that she’s gone. And worse, that she’s experiencing the horrors I saw on that website.
“And now he fucking has her!” My voice breaks, the rage collapsing into desperation. “He has her, and we don’t know where, and we don’t know what he’s going to do, and I promised her! I promised her I would keep her safe!”
My strength leaves me in a rush, and the gun falls from my hand as I sink to my knees.
Horrors from the website flash through my thoughts, unbidden and unstoppable, playing in my mind like a snuff film: Devyn being violated.
Arranged like a doll, with lifeless eyes that have experienced things she’ll never recover from.
Her throat slit after he’s destroyed her.
Those were his fantasies on screen, but now they’re no longer a distant possibility.
The thought breaks something inside me, a dam bursting. On my hands and knees on the kitchen floor, in a puddle of coffee, my body shakes with violent wails I can’t control. I’m not a soldier or a protector. I’m a man who has lost the only thing in this world that matters.
“Fucking find her,” I sob, the words torn from my chest. “Everyone, dig through fucking everything. We have to fucking find her.”
I look up at Hawk and then Jagger, helping Damon to his feet. Damon struggles to find his footing, his face ashen with guilt and drugs. “Please,” I beg, as they all see the depths of my devastation. “Please find her. I’ll do anything. Anything. Just find her.”
Damon struggles to walk toward me, his movements clumsy and eyes wet with tears.
He kneels beside me, his hand finding my shoulder, and he makes a promise I know he can’t keep, but I cling to anyway.
“We’ll get her back.” His voice is rough with emotion.
“I won’t fail you again. I won’t fail her again. We’ll find her, Gunnar. We have to.”
I look at him, at the man who was supposed to protect her, who let the wolf in sheep’s clothing walk through the door.
As much as he’s thinking it, I don’t hate him.
I know he would lay down his life for her, the same as I would for Mackenzi.
I don’t blame him, either, because I blame myself. This was my failure, my blindness.
Of all the threats we considered and all the angles we analyzed, we never dove that deep into Jake.
His background check was clean. He was present and trusted, too obvious.
It was the perfect hiding place for a monster—her inner circle in plain sight, the one place no one would think to look.
And now, Devyn is paying for our negligence.
I force myself to stand, my legs unsteady and hands still shaking.
I pick up my gun, holster it, and I look at my brothers.
“Mattis.” I speak into the phone, my voice steady and cold as I compartmentalize and retake control of a broken man.
“I need everything on Jake. Every email, every phone call, every financial transaction for the past eight years. Find out where he grew up and where his parents are buried. Everything. We need to know where he would take her.”
“On it,” Mattis announces, the urgency in his voice matching my own as his clacking keys spill through the speaker.
I’m coming, baby girl…
I will find you.
And when I do, I will make Jake suffer in ways that will make what we did to Colton look like mercy.