I reach the spa, yank open the door, and nearly scare the shit out of clients in robes drinking tea in the waiting room. I march to the desk. The hostess stares at me, her mouth open.
“Sir? Is everything okay?”
I already know the answer before I ask the question.
“Show me your guest list.”
“We only have four guests at the moment, sir, and they’re in our waiting room.”
Someone set me up. Someone’s breached our security and entered the club and set me up.
Savannah’s gone.
The sudden wailing of sirens makes everyone sit up straighter. I clench my jaw.
I need to find Savannah.
I need to find the security breach.
I need to find out why the fuck we have police here.
Fucking hell.
I leave the spa and head to the lobby as an entire rash of armed police officers swarms the lobby. Guests stand, frozen in place. We’ve never had officers in here before, and we keep our location secured.
“Thayer Gerard?”
I nod, guarded and on edge.
No.They can’t be here for me. Not here, not now, not when I need to secure Savannah.
Six officers come at me at once, like I’m a goddamned threat. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Officer Charlemont Laguerre.” My head swims with questions.
They’re framing me for the murder? Of fuckingcoursethey are. Frame me. Have me taken away, where I can’t come after them and murder them with my bare hands for even looking at my woman.
I quickly run through my options of escape but know immediately that if I fight them now, I’ll never find Savannah. With every fiber of my being screaming against me, I grit my teeth when they cuff me.
Lyam enters the lobby. He stares, unblinking.
I yell over my shoulder as they take me out, “I’m innocent. Take over in my stead. Fucking find Savannah and call our lawyer, in that order.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Savannah
I can’t believehe fuckingtracked me.
Okay, I can, if I think about it. It’s not really out of character at all, but I can’t believe I let myself fall for anything that even resembled love, because I know now, he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t trust me. He kept me as his little pet, someone he could manipulate and control, but no more.
Not with these stakes.
I’m not the kind of person to sneak around. I hate leaving him a note, but I know Thayer. If I tell him to his face that I need space and time to think things over, he’s not going to let me leave. He won’t let me go out on my own, no matter what security measures I take, because he doesn’t believe that I’d be safe. He’d wrap me in bubble wrap if he could.
And I have a lot to think about. Oh, God, so much to think about. It isn’t justmeanymore.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to quell the rising tide of emotion that threatens to strangle me. I draw in a breath and let it out slowly and think about my options.
I have no idea where I am, so leaving scares me. He blindfolded me when we came here, so I don’t know our exact location, but I do know we’re in Corsica.
