Chapter 1
The Hunt
Atlas
I ended up dozing off, which rarely happens, but thanks to Kitten’s late-night shenanigans, I hadn’t fallen asleep until around 4 AM. Smiling, I reminded myself that this was the start of something new, something real.
I wasn’t allowed to be pissed about her little display of independence at the club. Still, the urge to text her-or better yet, show up at her place, gnawed at me. I forced myself to back off and give her what she wanted—space like a good fucking boyfriend. That’s what this relationship needed…boundaries.
I didn’t even check the cameras at her house while she packed and tried to explain to Becca why she’d fallen for the man who kidnapped her.
Whatever.
It was none of Becca’s damn business what went on between Kitten and me, but of course, Kit insisted on appeasing her so-called best friend.
As much as I wanted to forbid it, I couldn’t. Not after I told her she’d have a say in our future, and we’d make decisions together. I had to honor that now, no matter how much it bothered me. Kit didn’t like the fact that I was angry at Becca for abandoning her on the dance floor. Tough shit. I love her, every part, but she will not change my mind on this.
Becca should’ve dragged her to the damn bathroom.
First rule of going out when you’ve got a vagina and you’re surrounded by horny bastards: you never go anywhere alone. I’m a man, and even I know this.
It's basic survival. You don’t leave your friend behind with a crowd of desperate, sex-crazed fuckers while you run off to piss or change a tampon.
Becca’s carelessness irritated the hell out of me. And no, I don’t give a damn if Kitten’s upset that her little bestie didn’t make it to my favorites list. She can cry about it later.
I sighed and shook my head, forcing myself to let it go. No point in getting worked up. Not today.
A yawn dragged from my lungs, and I turned to glance at the clock on the nightstand.
What the fuck?
It’s 4:30 in the afternoon!
I slept half the damn day away!
How the hell did I crash that hard, and more importantly, where the fuck was Kit?
I jumped off the bed in search of my pet. It was eerily quiet in the house, with no sign of intelligent life anywhere. I kept myself calm while I walked through the kitchen and opened the door to the garage to see if the X5 was there. Nope. The only vehicles parked were my M4 and the Ford F-150. It appeared no one had entered the area recently.
Maybe she took a ride to the store. That would be plausible. My jaw twitched, but I kept myself in check. Blowing a gasket wouldn't solve anything. She has me wrapped around her little finger, but that doesn't mean shit. I am still who I am, and I expected her back when I told her to return. Waiting isn't in my nature; it never was. Closing the door, I padded around the house, checking all the rooms.
Still fucking nothing. I looked for the cat, but he was nowhere to be found. Tuna had no vet or groomer appointment, so this was a problem. The knot in my stomach told me something was wrong. She is three and a half hours late.
There's no way she would defy me, especially with the threat of the strap across her ass. If she had come home and left, she would've either woken me or penned a note, but again, the cat isn't here. Something reeked of shit. Apprehension gripped my throat.
Panicking, I opened my cell, pulled up my cameras to see if she had returned, and then took off again. I checked the history from 12:45.
Nothing.
She hasn't returned to the house since leaving at eleven this morning. I pulled her cameras up on my phone.
My screen was empty, showing only two words-
Camera offline.
What the fuck? Despite trying again, I got the same message. I checked all the surveillance in her house, and every fucking one of them wasn't working. I felt dread come over me like the goddamn plague.
My Kitten is gone. I had a strong suspicion someone had taken her. This was the reason I didn't want her little ass in any of those seedy clubs.
