27. Chapter 27
Cruz
Fuck.
I knew I shouldn’t have left Rosa alone in that bathroom.
And I knew that unassuming lady looked familiar.
We should’ve put more distance between us and the city before stopping because this highway was the omega traffickers’ favorite route.
By the time I realized that woman was Bruna Parisi, Rosa’s perfectly rounded ass was sliding right out of that filthy window.
A window I had no hope of fitting through. I fucked up.
I’d never fucked up this bad before. Her pretty smile and addictive scent had me distracted, doing shit I’d never do. I knew better than to take her word at face value. Francisco was going to gut me like a fish and hang me with my own intestines.
I sprinted back to Nico’s Bentley and jumped inside. “Hurry, drive around back.”
“What the fuck, Cruz? Where’s Rosa?” Nico shifted into gear and hammered the throttle. The tires smoked and squealed around the turn, but all that was left were taillights.
I shoved my hands through my short hair, wishing it were longer, so I could rip it out. “Follow those tail lights. Bruna Parisi has Rosa.”
The engine roared as Nico pressed the accelerator, shooting us out of the parking lot and back onto the highway. “Say that again and make it make sense this time.”
“The clerk was watching me, probably because I was escorting a banged-up woman in a scrap of a dress. I couldn’t go into the bathroom with her without raising suspicions.
So, I waited outside the door. A little old lady came out, but I didn’t think much of it until I remembered I'd seen her before. It was Bruna Parisi. As soon as I realized, I pushed open the bathroom door, but Rosa was already out the window.”
And so, here we were.
Nico dodged between traffic without much issue, keeping up with the taillights we’d been following.
The car braked, and the tires smoked as we tried not to rear-end them.
Nico was persistent, and after a few miles of following on their ass more closely than was safe, they finally took an exit and pulled off onto a deserted frontage road.
The driver’s side door opened and a decent sized bro looking dude jumped out. “Who the fuck do you think you are, tailgating me like…” The words died on the guy’s tongue, and all the color drained from his face.
I was out of my seat in a blink, with my Glock trained between the guy’s eyes. Nico had a slick silver revolver leading the way toward the car.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Guys, I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear, see, I’m getting back in my car. No harm, no foul.”
“Don’t fucking move.” Nico’s growl was deadly, stopping the man in his tracks.
Our headlights had him half-blinded, but Nico’s command froze him to the pavement. I took the opportunity to approach the silver sedan. Our headlights illuminated the interior well enough to see inside.
I holstered my gun and turned back to Nico. “She’s not fucking here. The car’s empty.”
“Where is she then?” Nico strode up to the man who was now shaking while staring down the barrel of a gun. “How do you know Bruna Parisi?”
“I don’t know anyone named that. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just got gas, and then you maniacs started following me.” The guy’s eyes were so big they were liable to pop right out of his pasty white skull.
Nico’s forearm flexed, and I was sure he was going to kill this guy for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he kept it together. “Open your trunk.” Nico pulled back the hammer of his gun, and the scent of urine permeated the air. “Do it now.”
We had to be sure, but knowing Rosa left with Bruna, it seemed unlikely that we’d find anything helpful in this guy’s car.
He ducked back into his door, and the trunk popped open.
Nico was clearly not done terrorizing the man and kept his gun trained on him.
The trunk was full of random trash and a tire iron, but no rebellious omega.
“She’s not here. Let’s go.” I slammed the trunk in frustration and headed back to the Bentley.
The guy’s teeth chattered as he tried to get words out. “I’m so sorry. Please, I’ve got kids at home.”
Nico hesitated, standing there for another breath, watching the guy quiver, his hands raised and the front of his pants growing darker.
This was bad. Really fucking bad.
Nico took one step back, and then another, never taking his gun off the guy until he was inside the car again. “Where the fuck is she?”
“I don’t know. That cunt, Bruna, must have recognized me and figured we’d come after her.” I reached for my phone and realized I’d left it in my jacket.
The jacket I’d put on Rosa when she got out of Nico’s trunk.
Nico was already flipping the car around and getting back on the freeway, leaving the shaken, piss-stained man in our taillights with no idea what had just happened. He had no idea how lucky he was that Nico was in a hurry. I’d seen him kill people for less.
I tapped the phone button on the console. “Dial Oliver.” A woman’s accented voice confirmed my request, and then it was ringing through the speakers.
“What do you want?” Ollie’s annoyed voice picked up on the second ring.
“I need you to track my phone.” I didn’t bother wasting time explaining.
“Ah yes, hello to you, too, Cruz. And why, pray tell, do you need me to track your phone?”
I didn’t want to answer him because I already knew he’d give me shit for it, but I needed him to do his job, and quickly. “Rosa has it, and she’s not with us.” There, that was vague enough.
Ollie scoffed. “You lost her already, did you? That has to be some kind of record.”
“Just fucking do it.”
“Easy, big guy. Check Nico’s phone for real-time updates. Don’t die.” The connection cut off.
Nico’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he handed me his phone while he drove. It didn’t look like that bitch Bruna noticed my phone was in the jacket yet, because the little dot was blipping its way along a back road not far from here.