I stop dead in the middle of the corridor, blood still dripping from my knuckles.
"Tracking her."
They all look at me.
“No phone, Flynn,” Kian says slowly. “We can’t.”
I stare at them, chest heaving, and something cold and sharp slices through the rage.
Not her phone.
A slow, vicious smile starts to pull at my mouth.
“Her camera,” I say, voice low. “She never goes anywhere without that fucking camera.”
Connor frowns. “It’s a camera, mate. We can’t—”
“We can.” The words come out as a growl. “I stuck a tracker on; she never knew. That’s how Kaden and I found her at the motel the night she ran.”
I’m already moving, boots pounding up the stairs two at a time, burner to my ear.
“Kaden, log into the camera tracker. Now.”
I hit the SUV at a sprint, the others piling in behind me. Kian floors it before the doors even shut, tyres screaming, gravel spitting against the undercarriage.
Please, baby. Please still have it with you. Please let that little red dot be blinking.
Because I’m coming for her.
I’m coming to tear him apart.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Autumn
Three hours before
“Doyle,” Viviana says as the front door opens.
He steps inside, cheeks flushing the second our eyes land on him. “Hi.”
Kaden is sprawled on the couch, one boot on the coffee table, but he straightens the moment Doyle speaks. “What do you need?”
We’ve been waiting for hours, hearts in our throats, jumping at every creak of the house.
“I have a message from Flynn and Declan,” Doyle says, voice soft, almost shy.
My hands go ice-cold.
“No signal where they are,” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck. “They sent me.”
Kaden is already on his feet. “And?”
Doyle offers a small, careful smile. “They did it. Flanagan is caught. The Russians held up their end. Everyone is safe.”
The air rushes out of me in one trembling breath. Viviana sinks back into the cushions like someone cut her strings.
“Thank fuck,” Kaden groans, dragging a hand through his hair.
