“The plan’s changed,” I add.
“King...” he growls.
“She’s with me until we know more. I need you to find out what the hell is going on. I’ll get what I can from her on the men who took her.”
He mutters a curse.
My lips twitch. Gray doesn’t swear often, and when he does, it’s usually at me.
“Bring her here. I’ll?—”
“No. It’s the first place they’ll look. She’ll come home with me. It’s secure.”
If he’s surprised, he doesn’t let on. “I’ll dig. Phones, finances. Everything. You keep her protected until I tell you otherwise.”
Something eases in my chest. “Done.”
“King,” Gray says, voice roughening just a notch. “You trust your instincts on this?”
I don’t hesitate. “With my life.”
“Call when you have more.” He disconnects the call.
He’s pissed, but he knows the way I work. Maybe that’s why he needed me for this job even when I didn’t want it. My ability to protect assets relies on quick decisions. That makes me effective... and a pain in his ass. But I haven’t lost an asset yet, and Camille won’t be the first.
I finish gassing up, then open my door to get us back on the road. And stop cold.
Camille is on a cell phone whispering, “We’ll be stopping soon.” She swipes a tear off her cheek and jumps when a blast of cold air hits her.
A phone? Where the hell did that come from?
I scan her body, like I could see beneath my bulky jacket and the blanket. But in my mind, I’m seeing her in that form-fitting wedding gown. I didn’t search her because I thought there was nowhere to hide anything. Not when lace and satin hugged every damn curve. How the hell did I miss a phone?
“Hang up,” I bark.
She jolts. “But.”
“Hang up, now. They’ll track you through it.”
Camille sucks in a breath. “I have to go, Elizabeth. I’m safe. Love you.” She hangs up, hands shaking. “I called my sister to let her know I was okay. She won’t tell anyone.”
I motion for her to hand it over. “Doesn’t matter. We have to leave it here.”
“How will I stay in touch with her? She’s the only one I trust.”
Her words sting, because I want her to trust me. Fully and completely. “I’ll get you another.”
She reluctantly hands it to me.
I toss the phone in the nearest trash bin and try not to notice how sad she looks. “You trust her not to talk?” I ask when we’re on the highway. I increase speed, switch lanes, and glance in the mirror. No followers.
“She’s the only one who understands.” Camille sinks further into the blankets and looks away.
Understands what? Why she’s running from her father and her fiancé? I’ll get her home and then get some answers. Because nothing about this case adds up.
CHAPTER FOUR
CAMILLE
