to rest—and ashamed to admit how badly I felt leaving her alone—I tore through the city. Club Addiction. Devlin’s home. Merc’s house again. Every bar, hotel, or club either of them controlled. Aubrey’s apartment. Hours of searching down the drain without a glimmer of a clue.
No one knew a damn thing, and even if they did, they weren’t turning on their master.
I glanced down at my clock on the dash and jerked at my tangled hair. It was a quarter to seven in the morning. An entire night gone. Lost. Useless.
Of the few people I trusted, Jace was on shift in the ER—where I hoped he wouldn’t find her. We didn’t need to repeat history. Definitely not that part of my history. Buck was keeping an eye on the south end of town—probably partying and getting laid in the process.
And no one had heard from anyone in my lovely family. Before heading home, I tried one last time for a lead and dialed Sasha to check in on her progress.
“Any luck?” I asked as soon as she picked up.
“If I had, you’d already know.” She yawned into the mic, and I heard something else rustle. Given that I had probably dragged her out of bed, I was lucky she didn’t just hang up. “I can’t trace a phone that isn’t on to send any signals. Hate to say it, but I’d bet it’s long gone and swapped out for a new one.”
I couldn’t accept that. “Devlin has too many connections to cut off everyone’s only way of reaching him.”
“He also has a lot of resources. I can’t find him unless he provides an opportunity, and he hasn’t. I’ll get a ping if he shows up and call you immediately.”
“Have you tried Merc?” I was grasping for anything. It was my fault Aubrey was in this damned mess, and I had to find a way to get her out. “Or Tank.”
Sasha sighed. “Nothing on Tank. I did get something on Merc, but I traced him to fucking Vegas. Doubt they’re working together on this one. He seemed to be hitting the tables from the info I gathered.”
Merc hated Vegas, but he loved doing business over cards. His version of a power play on steroids. “That could keep him busy for a few weeks.”
I had more questions for Sasha, but I also knew better than to doubt her ability to track someone down. I grunted and turned toward my driveway, staring down a blue Audi R8 parked there. A tattooed blond man leaned against the hood with his arms crossed, watching the road. I didn’t recognize him or the car, so I disconnected the call and pulled up the drive, inching close enough to the Audi to make any reasonable car owner cringe. I fished the gun out from under my seat and discretely tucked it into the back of my pants.
“You Colt?” the blond asked as soon as I opened my door.
More than intuition told me he already knew the answer to that question. They wouldn’t happen to have found my house in the middle of nowhere and have spent the morning waiting outside in this weather otherwise. I kept my arms draped loosely at my sides—making it easier to go for my gun if necessary. “Why don’t you get your car out of my way? Might make me more amenable to your stupid questions.”
Blondie took a step closer, straightening his body and losing his faux-relaxed demeanor. “We have a score to settle—”
My hand itched against my side, ready to pull the gun from the back of my waistband.
“With your brother,” he continued.
My instincts screamed, but I didn’t move, staring down Blondie, then the darker haired man still waiting in the driver’s seat of the car. “In that case, you’re in a very wrong place.”
“We want him to go down.”
I smirked. As if they were the first or only ones with that goal. Most ended up dead—or in my current position. “Good for you.”
My morbidly curious side wanted to know more, but questions would make me seem interested in the waste of time. If only they could somehow manage to take him down and save me a lot of trouble—after I got Aubrey out of the crossfire.
Blondie tilted his head and returned my smirk. “We heard you might not be opposed to seeing that happen.”
“I don’t give a shit one way or the other.” Was it too obvious a lie? I shifted the focus. “However, I do give a shit that you’re wasting my time.”
“We want to make an arrangement—worth your time, of course.”
I shook my head and waved him off. “Doubt it. Settle your score your own way.”
He didn’t budge, testing my already weary patience. “You’re aware of your brother’s newest interest?”
“Nope. Don’t care.” But I couldn’t walk away before they did without exposing the gun, so I stood my ground, propping my arm up on my still open car door.
“Really? It stands to make him the most powerful bastard in town.”
Fuck. Did Wilson have something to do with this? I clenched my jaw and rested on one guaranteed fact. “Merc will kill him before that happens.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure... He’s not even in town right now.”
“What the hell is your interest? You’re a nobody.” I really wanted to know where he was getting his information. Were these two bottom-scrubbing wastes of time or could they prove to be an asset in my own problem?
“You’ve heard of The Retreat?”
The Retreat. An innocuous name for an establishment set up outside of the city by an international human trafficking ring. Merc had taken advantage of their “services” from time to time, attempting to get a leg up and find his own piece of the business. Everyone knew about The Retreat, and yet no one did. “Urban legend.”
“Or not,” he said with a crooked smile. “But the crime ring who ran it fell, leaving a wide open void around here with plenty of interested clientele in the market.”
Strip clubs... Human trafficking... For Devlin, that was a baby step. “And? Why do I care? Even better, why do you care?”
I had a nagging feeling that sounded remarkably like Aubrey’s voice in my head.
Aubrey….
Keep. It. Together.
“Wilson wants to make sure Devlin doesn’t get a hold in the market.”
“Wilson?” I squinted. “I’ve never seen either of you with him. If he wanted to send me a message, why didn’t he talk to me himself—or better yet, why hasn’t he answered my calls?”
“He’s been wrapped up in trying to keep Devlin out of his business—no thanks to you.”
“Fuck,” I growled slamming my car door. “Get the fuck out of here.” I waved at their car. “I have enough problems.”
Blondie glanced back to the driver through the windshield, then his eyes traveled back to me with a grin like a bottom-feeding used car salesman. “Maybe we can help each other.”
Losing my cool, I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him off balance. “I’ll help you by not putting a bullet in each of your heads.”
Then I shoved him against the hood of the Audi, and I reached around and touched the handle of the gun.
“Okay,” he put up his hands, retreating to the passenger door.
I made a mental note of the license number as they backed away and dug out my phone. First, I dialed Wilson. I had to find out if they really knew him or if they were a bunch of shit-for-brains trying to fill another void themselves.
Wilson answered after three rings. “It’s seven am, make it good.”
“You could have answered my calls last night,” I yelled.
“I was busy.” His voice didn’t raise—he was as calm and even-toned as ever. “Make it fast before I hang up.”
But something was off. I stared toward the bend in the road where I’d lost sight of the blue car. “I have an issue with the Audi you want delivered.”
“Not something I want to wake up and hear.”
Fuck. We’d never discussed an Audi job. I’d done several, but not for Wilson. So, I continued, suspicious that someone else might be listening in on our conversation. “I saw it last night. They seem to be ready to pull it off the grid.”
“Then, get a move on it. I’ll have the transport waiting for your word.”
I hung up. Devlin had Aubrey—and was at least listening in on Wilson. And I had two guys sneaking around who reeked of suspicion. I dragged my tired body up to the front door and into my living room.
Isabella lifted her head when I entered. I’d sought to rip Devlin’s world apart, and that’s exactly what he was doing to me. Grabbing her medication from the table, I dropped a pill into my hand, then went to the kitchen for a treat to stuff it in. She limped after me, worry etched in her canine features.
I gave her the treat, then filled her food bowl. There was nothing else I could do. Not even the house that had once been my peaceful getaway was remotely safe anymore.
I had to get Aubrey back, but without any idea of how to proceed, I felt like I was staring down an impossible road.
Instead of eating, Isabella sat down and looked up at me.
“I know,” I shouted.
At my wits end, I wanted to tear apart everything in the house—anything, everything.
My gaze paused on the cabinet where I kept the model supplies. Where I’d hidden the heroin.
I stormed into the next room through the bedroom and into the bathroom, jerking the shower on and stripping my clothes off to stand under the cold assault.
I needed to focus. Figure out a new plan. Find the one little clue that would get me closer to Aubrey.
I dropped against the shower wall.
I should have known it was coming. Should have planned long before now. Guarded her better instead of letting my guard down when things went quiet and wasting my energy on that damn car. I slammed my hand against the shower knob ending the stream.
Digging Aubrey’s phone from my discarded pants, I paced into the bedroom. The last thing she’d sent was a message to her brother. I scrolled up through the messages until I reached a picture of her niece—a glimpse into her life I didn’t want. I sat on the bed and heard something crackle under the pillow, so I shoved my hand under and pulled the envelope that Lex had delivered. Devlin had found it and planted the temptation right where he knew I’d find it.
Escape. It whispered against my consciousness. I closed my eyes, but my fingers traced the envelope flap. Devlin had me right where he wanted me.
In fate’s hands. Twisted like an old rag. My brain didn’t even want to function. I’d ran out of ideas, leads to chase, people to question.
No way out.
Before I knew it, the small vial of white powder was resting in my palm. I reared my arm back and threw the vial across the room, watching wide-eyed as it thumped against the wall and fell to the floor.
My chest tightened, and my heart raced at my own bitter betrayal.
How could you?
Thankfully, my phone vibrated. I peeked at the screen—hoping for a lead, but it was black despite the fact that the buzzing sound continued.
Then, I remembered Aubrey’s phone lying next to me.
“Goddamn,” I breathed, picking it up. Aiden’s name lit up the screen. Her brother.
I could ignore it.
I should ignore it.
But Devlin had already threatened them, and I owed it to Aubrey to keep them safe. If at all possible. The situation had already spiraled far out of my control. By the time I thought I’d made a decision, the phone stopped vibrating—save one final shake indicating she had a voicemail message.
Given every other despicable thing I’d done, listening to someone’s personal voicemail shouldn’t have made me so uncomfortable.
But I opened her phone and tapped the screen to open the message.
The young, bright voice that filled the speaker caught me off guard. “Happy Bird-day, Aunt Bre….”
I stopped the message and stared across the room, my eyes settling right where the heroin had fallen.
A taste. Just a taste.
Bliss. Hope. Escape.
Peace.
Fucking peace.