He looks at me like I have five heads. “Her mother hates me, and I’m not supposed to be around Emily. Even if I did, her mother wouldn’t let me see her.”
We don’t need to draw suspicion anyway.
Sam waves his iPad at me. “Let’s go. I need to hack into the hotel’s system if we want to find out what room he’s in. Our luck, Wes is already there.”
Sam tried hacking into Wes’s phone to track him, but he couldn’t access it, so this is our Plan B.
The lobby of the hotel is bright, busy, and loud. A bar sits off to one side. The concierge desk and check-in counter are on the other. People are coming in and out, going about their usual business.
Sam locates a suitable spot near the business center while the three of us linger near the bar.
“I can’t wait to see Wes’s face when he finds us in his room,” Zach says, grinning.
That’s one thing we agree on.
Carter leans against a pillar. “And if he walks in now?”
“Then we approach him.” I say. “He won’t make a scene.” He’s the type of guy who worries about his reputation. That’s why, when we’re done with him, the only reputation he’ll have is being someone’s bitch in prison. Prisoners don’t like rapists. A truth Wes will learn quickly.
Carter grins. “Fuck yeah. I’m ready to put the hurt on the asshole.”
Zach looks pensive, but I don’t get a chance to ask what he’s thinking when Sam rushes over.
“Got it. But bad news. He checked in an hour ago.”
“What the fuck?” I pull on my hair, immediately racing to the elevators with the guys on my heels.
“Room six zero five,” Sam blurts.
I stab the button for the elevator. “Sam, stay in the lobby.”
He arches a brow. “Sorry, man. I might not be buff like you three, but I can help.”
I don’t have time to argue when the elevator doors open, and we all rush in.
I’m primed to explode. Terrified of finding Emily in that room in a vulnerable position. If he’s laid one finger on her, he’s a dead man. I’m fidgeting, bouncing on my heels, cracking my knuckles, and virtually swinging off the walls as the elevator ride seems like a slow boat to China.
As soon as the doors open, I’m sprinting down the long corridor, dodging a man coming out of room, almost tripping.
When I reach the room, I turn the handle, but it’s locked.
I pound on the door. “Maintenance.” I shout.
The heavy beat of music thumps inside, and bile swims up my throat.
I motion to Carter to get on the other side of the door. Sam and Zach hang back by Carter. I don’t want Wes looking through the peephole and spotting us.
I bang again. “Maintenance. If you don’t open up, I’m coming in.” Mom explained to me once that maintenance has a right to walk in after announcing themselves.
I wait a beat, praying like a motherfucker it’s not too late, but my gut is spinning like an F-5 tornado.
No movement.
I jiggle the handle as Carter beats his fist on the door. “Maintenance!”
Fear drips off Sam, and Zach has a look I can’t quite figure out.
The handle moves, the door opens a crack, and I barrel in like I’m the linebacker and not the quarterback. The guy falls back on his ass, and I freeze as my eyes quickly search the room.
