“We’re going to fix this.”
“What?” My question reverberated off the glass. “What the fuck are you going on about?”
“Bruno made a deal, gave the Feds some info about the other guys, the ones Zayid sends ahead of time. Apparently, the intel was good, and he was cut loose.”
“Fuck it to hell, Landon.”
“Of course, he was told to lay low, stay clean and honest, but you know he’s an idiot.”
“Where is my woman?” Thank God the window was made of safety glass, because my fist met with it three solid times in a row. Then a fourth for good measure.
“We’re going to find her.”
I growled, unable to form a sentence.
“They were at lunch, and Bruno walked right up to their table. Stepped behind Lynx, packing heat, and told Sam he’d shoot if she made a peep. Then he walked Lynx out of there.”
“FUCK!”
“Sam is at home, in shock. I left an agent with her. I know you got your other girl in a safe house, but I’d warn her.”
Lisa.
“What about my real fucking girl?”
“We’re on it. Looking as we speak. I’m going to come get you, and we’ll go from there.”
“Did you call Carson?”
“On his way.”
Of course, I was the last to know.
Trying to put a lid on my rage, I ground out, “I’m going to have Sampson go check on Lisa, but you better get here fast or I’m going rogue on this one.”
I disconnected the call, called Sampson, and then punched the shit out of the mirrored shower door—which wasn’t fucking safety glass.
