Chapter 26
Hannah wiped her eyes and took in her reflection in the mirror. Thank God there was a ladies’ room and no other women to use it, because she desperately needed to be alone, not wanting anyone to see her cry—least of all, Brady.
She told herself she’d just been through so much, the terrible stress of the last few days crashing down on her like a pile of boulders. But it was Noah’s words that were her undoing, the callous things he said about needing to get away from her that truly broke her heart.
She should get out of here, make her way to Trevor’s with Brady and settle in for the night, but her back had broken and there wasn’t anything she could do to fix it until she climbed out from beneath these emotions.
You barely even know him. What do you care if he wants to leave?
But no matter how much she tried to let reason shine into the darkness, she refused to see the light. Her feelings for him had grown quickly in the time they’d been together, from her initial fear to burgeoning trust to something far, far deeper and more meaningful.
Love.
You’re such a loser.
No one fell in love after two days! Jesus, it was probably Stockholm syndrome that had her so enamored with that bastard, not love.
Definitely not love.
She worked to get herself together, splashing water on her face and taking deep breaths until she only looked exhausted instead of emotionally devastated. The sound of a helicopter nearby made her shoulders shake. She’d never willingly go on one of those things again.
She looked at herself in the mirror one last time and exhaled with a great huff.
She was ready. In her pocket she had the keys to Trevor’s house and his address, along with some cash Leo had given her to get her through the next few weeks.
It wasn’t home, but it was close, and she just needed to hold herself together until she could get there.
You can do this.
She pushed out of the room and went in search of her son.
He wasn’t in the kitchenette, where she’d left him with an orange soda and a straw, and she suspected he’d gone in search of Noah despite her expressly telling him not to.
Great. Now I’m going to have to face him again.
She made her way out the other side of the kitchenette and nearly ran into Cowboy. “Have you seen Brady?”
“No.”
“He’s probably with Noah. Where’s his office?”
“Noah just left in the chopper.”
She frowned. “I’m sure he’s around here someplace.”
“I’ll help you look.”
They searched HERO Force headquarters room by room, calling for the boy.
An hour and a half later she was frantic—Brady still nowhere to be found.
Cowboy called the police to search the blocks around the building while he, Hannah, and the new HERO Force recruits moved to other floors in the building.
It was another forty minutes after that before one of the recruits called Cowboy’s cell phone. Hannah watched his eyes go wide with concern before slamming into hers.
“What? Is he okay?” she asked.
“Thank you.” He hung up the phone. “They found Brady’s stuffed bear on the helipad.”
“On the roof?” she screamed, covering her mouth with her hand. “What was he doing up there?” Understanding dawned, a terrible realization. “No. No! He didn’t. He wouldn’t!”
“I think he stowed away with Noah in the helicopter.” Cowboy checked his watch and cursed colorfully.
“Where were they going?”
“Hilton Head Island. They should be there by now.”
She was hyperventilating, her chest rising and falling too quickly. She clutched the wall as Cowboy made a phone call.
“Get Doc on the radio. Brady is with them. Repeat, the little boy is on the chopper. Do it now!”
It was her fault. She should have been watching him instead of crying in the ladies’ bathroom for twenty minutes and leaving him alone. “Why did they go there? We just left.”
“The men who tried to kill you went to your apartment before Noah’s sister’s. They’re after you. Noah wanted to stop them.”
Her face crumpled. She knew what those men were like, had seen what they were capable of, and now Brady was there without her. He was in danger. “My baby!”
His phone rang. “Did you get him?” He turned and kicked the wall with such force the drywall dented and she knew—the men had already gotten off the chopper. This was worse than when Joe died, time distorted, colors overly bright.
Then Cowboy gave her a fierce stare as he belted out loud, “Stefan, get me a pilot. I need to get to Hilton Head Island, stat.”