Chapter Seven
Matteo kept his eyes peeled as the van made its way down Hollywood Boulevard.
The vehicle had tiny cameras on its sides and back that were essentially invisible to anyone who didn’t know they were there, the images fed to a panel of monitors. But they wouldn’t do any good in this situation. No one else had seen the mysterious young woman earlier. So, Jack, Iris, and the others had no idea who to look for.
Only Matteo had gotten a good look at her beautiful face. He wouldn’t forget it anytime soon, either. In fact, he knew that even if he never saw her again—a thought that terrified him—he’d remember her in vivid detail until the day he died.
Hopefully it didn’t come to that. His plan was to have her in his life from now on. Was it realistic, though? Could he even find her? There were people on the Boulevard from all over the world. Plus, they didn’t even know that’s where she was. It was just a hunch Iris had. Los Angeles was a giant city. Realistically, she could be anywhere.
“Are we sure we shouldn’t go downtown? Maybe check Skid Row?” he called back.
Behind him, Iris said, “Lots of folks on the Row. Some good people just trying to get by. Others fighting their battles. And you can get a meal down there at the missions. But… well… it can be really scary. I think a single girl would want the protection of the tourists on the Boulevard. Just my theory, though.”
Matteo kept looking from side to side as he considered Iris’s words.
People crossed the street. Others posed for pictures with the statues outside Madame Tussaud’s. A few seemed oblivious to the world around them as they studied the stars on the Walk of Fame, probably looking for their favorite celebrity’s name.
“Shit!” Kendrick yelled, slamming on the brakes.
Matteo rocketed forward, stopped by the seatbelt as the vehicle skidded to a sudden stop.
Thankfully, they hadn’t been going very fast thanks to the heavy pedestrian and vehicle traffic, so Kendrick was able to avoid hitting the person who’d darted not the street, directly in their path.
“Excuse my language, ladies,” Kendrick said.
The Littles in the back giggled.
“What’s going on?” he continued, peering out into the street.
Matteo’s eyes went to the woman who was running across the Boulevard. For a split second, he couldn’t believe it.
“It’s her!”
He didn’t offer another explanation. Instead, he unbuckled his seatbelt, threw the door open, and bolted from the vehicle.
Two men ran past him.
“What the hell?” Matteo asked under his breath as he increased his speed.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one chasing her. Was she in some kind of danger? Did these men want to hurt her?
White-hot anger flashed through Matteo. Anyone threatening his babygirl would answer to him.
And they sure as hell wouldn’t like it.
Ahead, the girl bounded onto the sidewalk, cut between two ladies kneeling behind a star on the Walk of Fame and the man taking their picture, and ran into the Roosevelt Hotel.
The two men chasing her followed.
So did Matteo.
Inside, the busyness of the Boulevard faded into a quiet and almost eerie picture as the dimly lit hotel looked like a page out of the past. Quiet murmurs of conversation drifted over from the bar. The peaceful sounds of the fountain in the center of the large space added to the ambiance, as did the magnificent, old chandelier that hung from the intricately designed ceiling.
The magnificent building had stood on the corner since the 1920s and it looked it, though it was well-maintained and splendid.
But Matteo wasn’t there to admire the slice of Hollywood history.
He was there to kick ass, it looked like—because his babygirl needed rescued.
