“Do you?!” he booms, his chest heaving. “Because it looks like you lost sight of the goal.”
“Sheis my goal.” I get in his face, my hands balled into fists at my sides. It’s all I can do to stop myself grabbing him by the collar and shoving him aside.
He means well, but he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand there’s nomewithouther. Not anymore.
Bad drug.
Perfect high.
My sweet fucking downfall.
“I want her back. Ineedher back and Vaughn’s my key to getting her. Get out of my way.”
Broadway grinds his teeth, staring me down for three heartbeats. He’s known me long enough to see in my eyes that I’ll make him move if he doesn’t. “I hope she’s worth it.”
Fierce, protective rage detonates inside me, scorching my veins. But beneath that rage lies a fear so deep, so fucking profound, it almost brings me to my knees.
The fear of never seeing Hailey again.
Never hearing her voice.
Never telling her how much she means to me.
I don’t grace Broadway with a reply, shouldering past him into the next room.
My hands shake, my knuckles bleached from how hard I’m clenching them, as I power through the room like a wrecking ball. Any assholes that don’t step aside in time get shoved out ofmy way. My self-control is hanging by a thread and it’s a struggle to hold on to my sanity. It wouldn’t take much to slip into madness. I’m barely keeping from tearing apart everyone within reach to let out a fraction of the rage gunning through me.
Three months ago, I saw beauty on the dancefloors ofBravoandDelta. There was something hypnotic about skimpily dressed bodies moving to the rhythm pumping from the tall speakers. Something mesmerizing in their red lips, coquettish smiles, bouncing boobs, and the damp hair kissing their necks.
Now I can’t see it.
My gaze sweeps the club as I charge toward the metal staircase. The same scenes play out before my eyes, the same music vibrates the heavy, hot air.
At first glance, it’s the same chaos I’ve basked in for years.
Nothing’s changed, but everything feels different.
Like I’m watching a sepia-toned movie on worn-out film.
No color, no life. No beauty...
No escaping the torment of losing Hailey.
Seven days. That’s how long she’s been gone. Seven days of swinging between cold logic and panicked frenzy. Seven days spent wondering what’s happening with her and remembering every moment we spent together.
How the fuck did she sink her claws so deep into my bones that even a week apart can’t break me free?
I don’t even want to break free...
I want her to sink her claws deeper.
And I want her back right now, even if rational thinking tells me she’s safe with Matthews, hidden away on Vaughn’s orders.
The evidence was on Chloe’s phone, which she handed over willingly when I barged into her room minutes after I realized Hailey ran. Within half an hour, Ryder’s digging confirmed Hailey used it to dial Matthews.
Without knowing what was said I had no idea where to start looking. Not that it stopped me. I drove around for hours while Ryder combed the scarce surveillance footage from town, tracing Matthews’ car as he took my girl away, but there are no surveillance cameras in the miles of dense woods leading every direction out of town, so they lost the trail in the web of roads.
The only consolation was the snapshot Ryder sent me. It clearly showed Hailey in the passenger seat, and seeing her safe with her father’s friend quenched an iota of my despair.
