“In your defense, I’m sure that would have backfired on you. She has a stubborn streak.”
“That she does.”
“I’m half-expecting us to find her and see she not only freed herself from the zip cuffs but hogtied her attacker.”
That got a small smile out of Nathaniel. “We can only hope. So, you’re positive these stoners couldn’t have been behind this?”
“Yeah. They’re too burnt out to set up some elaborate plan. We found the guns in the backyard.”
“They did break into the warehouse.”
“Only because Noa taught one of them how to pick a lock.”
He snorted out a laugh at that.
“Tell me again about the guy you saw.”
“I can do you one better than that,” I said, reaching for my phone. “My club brother is married to an artist. We worked on a sketch.”
I held the phone out toward him.
Nathaniel glanced over.
Then he slammed on the brakes hard enough to make them squeal.
He snatched the phone out of my hand, staring harder at the image.
“This is him? You’re sure this was the guy?”
“Within a five percent degree of certainty. The chin feels off to me still.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding. There was that flick of the muscle in his jaw again. “Yeah, because it’s cleft.”
The second he said it, the memory came back, sharper, with that detail attached.
He was right.
It had been a cleft chin.
There was a dark look in his eye then, but beneath it, something akin to confusion. Or maybe even… hurt?
“Nathaniel, you know who he is?”
He sucked in a breath that had his broad chest spreading wider still.
“Oh, yeah. I know him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Noa
“She is a bitch,” Lance said, nodding. “Thanks for remembering. Though, is she as much of a bitch as your mom? I mean, who just abandons her daughter for her whole life?”
He was trying to hurt me.
It was an old game.
And it never worked.
