26
HUDSON
“Where the fuck is she going?”
Marcus cocks his head at me and frowns. He can’t hear me over the noise of the helicopter, and I’m not looking for a response because he doesn’t have the answer. All I can do is watch the dot on my laptop that shows Willow driving out of Hope and onto the highway.
At least she took the phone so I can track her.
I tap my foot and peer out of the window as the Hope airfield comes into view. There’s a knot in my stomach that’s been sitting heavy since I woke up and found Willow gone.
I should be with her, but the damn woman chose to go off on her own rather than trust me. It makes me sick to think about her going to meet the Street Kings on her own.
After what we shared last night, I can’t believe she didn’t wake me. I’d have gotten Marcus and the team on the case, and we would have worked the problem together.
I run a hand over my stubble. I suppose that’s why she went on her own. Willow’s impatient and impulsive, and now I’m watching a red dot on a map and hoping like hell she’s okay.
As soon as the bird touches down, I’m running across the field to Bedrock Security. Marcus is right behind me as we head straight to his car, where a driver waits for us.
Inside, there’s a cache of weapons. Behind us is another car with a team—that’s how you go after bad guys, with two cars full of trained men and a bunch of weapons, not one woman armed with nothing but her smile.
I buckle up and open the laptop. The dot stopped at the side of the highway. But as I watch, it begins to move again.
Does she know we’re tracking her? I keep my eyes on the red dot as she moves down the highway. As long as she has her phone, I’ll find her.
“I’m coming for you, Willow.”
27
WILLOW
Asign welcoming me to Virginia is the only indication I’ve crossed the border into a different state. No highway patrol waits for me, and no one checks for suspicious vehicles. I huff out a long breath, but it does nothing to ease the knot in my stomach.
I follow the highway until the GPS tells me to take the off-ramp. Turning into an industrial area, I cruise down a wide street, and with one hand on the steering wheel, I pull out the phone and check the recording app is on. I slip the phone back into my pocket and take the next turn.
The address is a warehouse with a broken window and a rusty skip outside. It looks abandoned, so I pull in slowly. A roller door opens, and a man steps out, indicating for me to drive inside.
Anxiety spikes. If I drive in here and they close the door, no one will know where I am. With no cars outside, it looks like any other abandoned warehouse. But I don’t have another choice. They want the car inside so they can get the goods out of it.
I swallow my fear, think of my brother, and drive into the warehouse. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark. The man gestures to me to drive forward and then puts his hand out to stop when I’ve gone far enough. I turn off the engine, and the warehouse falls silent around me.
With trembling hands, I step out of the car, trying to stand tall and not show the fear that threatens to leave me frozen in place.
My eyes dart around the room. There are stacks of packing crates along one side, and four men stand like guards in each of the corners.
I blink in the darkness, and then I see him. Tyler is tied to a chair by the crates. His head is slumped forward, and his hair falls over his face.
He looks like a child again, like when Mom passed and I comforted him because he was nine years old and didn’t understand yet that the world was unfair.
I gasp and step toward him, but one of the men steps forward to block my path.
“Tyler!” I yell instead.
He looks up, and our eyes lock. His widen with fear, and he gives a slight shake of his head.
I try to dodge around the big man in front of me, but he blocks my path. I lean back on my heels and fold my arms, trying not to show my frustration and fear.
“Let them have their reunion,” a familiar voice says.
