Chapter 4 #2
Serena finger-combed her hair back into a ponytail, secured it at the crown of her head, and then adjusted her seatbelt.
Milo’s hand hung loosely on the steering wheel, and his body was settled back into the seat, leaning slightly toward her.
A hint of cologne wafted to her nostrils, warming her blood.
The presence and scent of him calmed her frayed nerves.
She’d had the fastest shower of the century, even though she’d felt it was the absolute last thing she should be doing with her sister missing.
But Milo had been right—she’d looked like a train wreck, and they didn’t need to draw attention to themselves.
Running into him in the bedroom had shaken her.
He hadn’t even tried to hide the hungry fire that had exploded in his eyes.
Or if he had, he’d failed miserably. A tickle of desire ran over her nipples in the vehicle’s chilly air.
Dammit, she had to push her attraction to Milo from her mind.
After this was all said and done, they could explore it. Maybe.
Big maybe.
The windshield wipers sliced through the rivulets of rain on the glass.
She glanced at the clock on the dash of his car.
It was after midnight. Normally she’d be cuddled up in bed at this time, but not a shred of fatigue weighed her down.
Shit, she still hadn’t submitted the older couple’s listing contract, and she’d need to have someone take over the open house scheduled for tomorrow.
She pulled her phone from her purse and typed an email to Melanie, giving a vague explanation of her emergency, and CC’d Carlee, her assistant, asking her to show the open house.
She attached the paperwork she’d saved in her phone from that morning’s agreement and hit Send.
“What are you doing?”
She returned her phone to its pocket. “Just letting my boss know there’s been an emergency and I need someone to step in for me on a couple of things tomorrow.”
“Think she’ll understand?”
Serena nodded. “Without a doubt. Melanie’s very considerate, and I’ve yet to call in sick for anything in the two years I’ve been on her team. She’ll be worried I’m sure. But I don’t want to give her too many details in case she takes it upon herself to notify the police.”
Milo huffed. “Good call. That’s the last thing we need.”
Dani’s terror-filled face loomed in her mind’s eye, and tears burned behind her lids. With a background in self-defense, Dani could handle herself in almost any situation. Whoever had taken her had either rendered her defenseless by injuring her or vastly outnumbered her.
Serena sat forward. “That building on the left,” she said, and stretched her hand toward the window.
Milo slowed and pulled into the parking lot.
“I assume you have a key?”
“Of course.”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid out of the car.
Milo had rounded the vehicle before she stepped onto the sidewalk.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stay close.” His wry tone made her roll her eyes.
But the shrubs dotting the walkway to the front entrance swayed in the breeze, and she let her body gravitate closer to Milo’s.
If he noticed her anxiety, he didn’t react.
The downpour had become a light drizzle. They reached the door, and she shook the key to Dani’s apartment loose from the others that hung on her key chain. She entered the building with Milo close behind her.
“She’s on the third floor,” she said, as she led him to a bank of elevators. Milo punched the button as she scanned the tattered gray carpet. Dani had been kidnapped—there had to be a clue, a witness . . . something.
The elevator dinged and they stepped inside. Again, she searched for an indication that Dani had been taken from her home.
“They wouldn’t be dumb enough to take her from her apartment. Do you know where she was when she texted you?”
God, if only she’d called Dani on her way home from Titus’s. Her gaze slid to Milo’s tall form. She hadn’t, because her mind had been too set on him. Dani would have picked up on her distraction, and she would have ended up talking about Milo when she hadn’t wanted to.
“No.” The elevator cart slowed and the doors opened. They stepped onto the third floor. She led the way down the hall and stopped when they reached Dani’s door. Milo’s hand slid around her waist, and he eased her against the wall.
“Give me the key.”
She held it out and he accepted it. His free hand moved behind his back and removed a gun from the waistband of his pants. The bottom of her stomach dropped out.
“You have a gun?” Her throat squeezed out the word.
He lifted his shoulder. “Does that bother you?”
She wet her lips and shook her head. Any form of protection was an asset right now. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”
He winked at her. “Don’t worry, I know how to use it.” He edged her back with his elbow until she was two feet away from the door. He moved close to the white-painted wood and brought his ear close to the surface.
He unlocked the door, stepped back, and shoved it open with his foot, keeping his gun trained on the open doorway. She pressed her body tight to the wall as blood rushed through her brain.
Milo stepped over the threshold and jerked his head toward the interior.
“Stay close.”
She nodded and followed him into the apartment. He held his hand out, indicating for her to wait in the open-concept kitchen and living area as he swept through the rest of the tiny space.
“All clear,” he said, as he exited Dani’s bedroom, closed the front door, and secured the lock.
Serena rolled her shoulders back and advanced to the edge of the couch, where Dani permanently kept her laptop.
On the side table sat several framed pictures—one of Dani and her celebrating her first real estate sale, another of Peyton and Dani in Europe a couple of summers before.
A smile touched her lips as she stared at Peyton’s tight hold on her sister’s shoulders.
Dani and Peyton had been best friends since they were nine.
Dani had taken their mother’s death the hardest. For the first month after moving in with their aunt and uncle, she hadn’t spoken a word to anyone.
Then she’d met Peyton.
Serena’s heartstrings pulled at the memory of the petite strawberry-blonde girl who at age nine had looked no older than seven.
The day Dani had found Peyton, cops and a fire truck had surrounded the little girl’s house and she’d been hiding in a tree.
Dani climbed up and sat beside her. They instantly bonded.
Later, Serena learned that Peyton had set fire to the back porch of her new foster home.
Having grown up watching her father beat her mother half to death, she’d been whooshed into child protective services and had a chip on her shoulder the size of Texas.
She’d rebelled against every home she’d been placed in, but the last set of foster parents didn’t give up on her despite her pyro moment, and now, from what Serena knew, she had a good relationship with them.
She lowered herself to the couch and opened the computer. Milo paced in front of the door with his gun still drawn for a few moments and then turned to face her. The password bar popped up, and she glided her fingers over the keys. Milo dropped down beside her on the couch.
“You know her password, too?” His eyebrow cocked.
She glanced at him. “Dani has used the same password for everything since she was a teenager.” A beat passed. “Don’t you dare tell her I told you that.”
He chuckled and laid the gun on the coffee table inches from his knees.