JAY
The alarm bells already blaring became a deafening crescendo when Volkov slammed his hand down on the steering wheel, swearing in Russian.
“What?” Ryker was instantly on alert, his gaze flying to the dashboard display screen, where the blinking red dot was.
The blinking red dot that was no longer there.
“Where the fuck is Nova?” I growled.
Volkov’s nostrils flared. “The signal has disappeared. That means that the tracker has been discovered, or she is somewhere that can’t be tracked.”
Shit. Either option was bad, bad news.
“Drive to the last known location of the signal. If anything has happened to my sister, I will kill you. Slowly and very fucking painfully,” Ryker said in a low tone, and Volkov’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel, white-knuckling the leather.
“Do not speakto?—”
“Fuck. Off. I haven’t forgotten that you pulled a gun on me earlier. Don’t make this any worse for yourself.”
Me neither. I’d be happy to join in the torture, too, if anything had happened to the woman I loved.
Volkov’s jaw clenched as his gaze flicked between the display and the empty road. “I will find out what has happened, and those involved will pay.”
The deliberate pressure of Dan’s arm against mine had me glancing over at the other occupant of the back seats of Volkov’s Ferrari GTC4Lusso. “She’s gonna be okay.”
“Yeah,” I said hoarsely. She had to be. Because the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
Volkov swerved off the main road onto a bumpy track, and I braced myself on the side of the car.
“Sports…cars…can…get…fucked,” Dan ground out between jolts. “This suspension is shit.”
“I will bring my Range Rover the next time I am chasing my fiancée across the country.” Volkov’s lip curled as he met Dan’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “And you will not be a passenger.”
“Fine by me.” Dan saluted him before slumping back down. As he turned to stare out of the window at the darkness beyond, I caught the flash of worry in his expression he was trying to hide. I swallowed hard.
“She’s gonna be okay.” I repeated his words back to him.
He didn’t have a chance to reply because the car came to a sudden, screeching stop, the headlights illuminating a black Audi right in front of us before Volkov quickly flicked them off.
Ryker was already halfway out of the door, wasting no time. “That looks like one of my dad’s cars.” He dipped low, creeping around the side of the vehicle. As Dan and Iscrambled out of Volkov’s Ferrari, we were stopped by Volkov holding up his hand.
“Wait. We do not know what we’re walking into.”
“Fuck waiting.” I shoved past him, following Ryker’s lead and dropping into a low crouch as I moved towards the car as quickly as I could.
A shadow fell over me. “Empty,” Ryker said, tugging at his hair. “Fuck. What now?”
“Now…” Hitting the button to switch on my phone torch, I pointed it at the ground, inhaling sharply at the clear signs of a scuffle. There was no more time to waste. I swung the beam upwards in the direction of the footprints and ran.
A red dot appeared on Volkov’s chest as he drew up next to me, and I reacted instantly, lunging at him and taking us both sprawling to the dirt as a gunshot sounded out, the crack bouncing off the trees and echoing around us.
Panting, I scrambled to my feet, unable to even catch my breath before Volkov was hauling me into the cover of the trees. A hand landed on my arm, and then a low, urgent voice sounded in my ear.
“Everyone okay? We don’t have the element of surprise, and we don’t know how many there are. They shot first without asking questions, so it’s safe to assume they’re hostile. We need backup.”
“I have a gun. There is an emergency contact system in my car that works without a phone signal,” Volkov replied to Ryker, his voice more breathless than I’d ever heard it before. “Hoyton, take my key. It is the red telephone button on the ceiling—you cannot miss it. They will ask for a passcode in English and Russian.”
“Wouldn’t it be better for you to do that?” Dan interrupted. “Give me the gun.”
