23
GREGORY
I pull the Lamborghini to a screeching halt outside my office block and fly through the revolving glass door.
‘Gregory! Someone took her. They took her!’
‘Who? What? Where is she?’ I skid to stop in front of Paul.
‘I don’t know. There was a kid, the new one from the twenty-third floor. He was outside. I think she was going to him. Then another guy pulled her. Put something over her head. They put her in a car and they left.’
My gut falls to the floor, heart racing. There’s no air in my lungs.
‘Greg!’
Jackson bursts into the building and I’ve never been so fucking dependent on him for my next move.
‘Trina was here. They took Scarlett. Three of them. My guys tailed as far as they could but they lost them. They must have switched cars.’
I bite the knuckles of my clenched fist and fight the anger and grief that’s tearing me up. ‘Jackson, what the fuck do we do?’
‘We go home, kid. We get the team together. We fuckin’ find her.’
I rub my hands roughly up and down my face then shake my head. ‘No. Now. We have to go now.’
‘Greg, we don’t know where she is. I know how much you want to lash out. You need to keep your cool.’ He’s calmer now, trying to rationalise things.
I feel like I’m outside my fucking body, watching myself break down. My eyes are on fire. ‘Jackson.’ It’s all I can say.
‘We’ll find her.’
I can’t lose her. It feels like a bullet cuts through my chest and I ball my fists, screaming out as I punch the door of the lift. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the cold metal, thumping the side of my fist against the door again.
‘Greg, every second we waste, she gets further away.’
I rub my face roughly one more time. ‘Bring him,’ I growl, pointing to Paul as I charge out of the building and tear away from the curb in the Lamborghini. As I burn through the dark streets, swerving through traffic, ignoring red lights, I look for her, knowing I won’t find her. Twice, I fight back the start of crushing tears.
‘Scarlett,’ I mumble into the empty car.
Jackson must drive like a maniac too because he pulls into the basement right behind me. We ride to my penthouse together. By the time we reach the apartment, Jackson’s security team are already there and I’ve got my head straight enough to listen to Paul.
I roll up the sleeves of my shirt and unfasten another button at the neck, then I crank up the air con. I pace the floor of the lounge as Jackson gets everything he needs out of Paul, vaguely aware of other conversations going on in the room. I know they’re doing everything they can and I’m so fucking grateful for Jackson right now.
‘He was about Gregory’s build. Older. Jeans and a polo. He looked normal,’ Paul says.
‘Nick Henshaw,’ I bite.
Jackson nods. ‘The guys are pooling everything we’ve got on Trina, Stuart and Nick. Ken is looking for any links to places they might’ve taken her.’
That’s the reality. He’s said it himself, we’ve got no fucking idea where she is. I swear to God, if they touch her. If Nick Henshaw lays a fucking finger on her…
I pick up the first thing I can get my hands on – a crystal decanter – and launch it at the wall with a wail that sounds more like an animal than me. The glass shatters, liquor spraying out across the floor.
There are seven other men in the room and they all turn to look at me.
‘Fucking find her!’
‘Greg, we need you with us,’ Jackson says. ‘Get a drink and get your shit together.’
