My heartbeat thundered in my chest as it constricted. My stomach churned, acid burning my esophagus as I cursed the traffic lights and flipped off the speed limit signs.
But then finally—finally—I saw her apartment building coming into view.
I was barely aware of cutting the engine, of putting down the kickstand, of climbing off the seat.
All I was aware of was running toward the building, running my fingers down the doorbells until someone buzzed me in, tearing up the stairs two at a time as a cold, slick feeling coursed down my spine.
“Gracie! Open up!” I yelled, pounding my fist into the door over and over. “Gracie!”
One beat.
Two.
More.
I didn’t stop to think.
I stepped back, then rushed forward, slamming my shoulder into the door until it burst open with a slight cracking sound.
It didn’t matter.
I could fix it some other time.
“Gracie!” I yelled, rushing into the space, looking for her, looking for proof that she was around. Or, worse yet, that she’d been taken.
But there were no upturned tables, no strewn knickknacks, no splashes of blood.
No Gracie.
And while I’d never seen her in action myself, I knew from stories that Gracie was very well-trained in self-defense. If someone had come in here, if they’d tried to take her, she would have put up a fight. She would have left evidence of the attack.
She wasn’t here.
She wasn’t taken.
She just wasn’t home.
I tried to suck in a steadying breath, but my lungs burned.
If she wasn’t home, maybe she was already with friends or family. Maybe she was in a busy coffee shop or at whatever her other job was. Safe.
I knew that Fallon would have gotten in touch with at least Brooks and his father already. From there, the phone tree would spread out.
Someone would text Gracie.
So if she was at work or something, she would know to stay put, to wait for someone to escort her to the clubhouse or Hailstorm.
Hell, for all I knew, Hailstorm was activated and sending their little paramilitary troops out to scoop all the girls and kids up already.
It wasn’t my job or my place to find and rescue Gracie. Not when I’d been the one to put her in danger. Not when being around me continued to put her at risk.
I wasn’t being logical right then, though.
All I could think was that if I was there, I could stand between her and a bullet. I could absorb them all for her, keep her safe.
I made my way back to the door when something sitting on the mail table caught my eye.
There it was.
