Page 93 of Property of Player

He and every single one of my brothers knows what’s at stake and how much it’s affecting me.

I nod. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Slaughter turns to my brother, Beck. “I’ve got the wire cutters. You bring the blowtorch.”

Drae rolls to a stop, and Slaughter slides the side door open. We hop out and move to the gate.

Beck makes short work of the chain, and we swing the gates wide. Both vans roll through, and we close the gate and jog after them. If anyone drives past, nothing will look out of order.

The vans roll around the back of the building, out of sight of the road, and park. We scope out the place with small flashlights.

“Over there.” Gage points. “If she was left in an office, it’s gonna be on this side.”

A door is chained shut, but Slaughter drops his weapon and blasts through it. We jog inside, flashing beams of light around.

“Check every goddamn office,” I say, half expecting a Depraved Sinner to pop out.

“Maybe they didn’t leave a guard. She’s not going anywhere,” Cruz says.

“Taylor!” I scream. “You here?”

Drae motions me to an office. “This one.”

But when I race to it, it's empty.

He points to the wall. “That’s the calendar. This was the room.”

“They moved her,” I say. Slaughter comes to stand in the doorway and flashes his light across the floor. “Look.” He points at the concrete.

There are several long trails where the dust is disturbed. They lead out the door.

“They rolled the chair out.”

“Follow it,” I bark, and we move down the hall. I jog ahead, searching. “Taylor?”

There’s no answer, but I think I hear thumping.

“Quiet,” I hiss and no one moves.

The sound comes again.

“In that room,” Drae points to an open doorway and shines his flashlight on the ground. The trails lead into it.

I dash in with Slaughter at my side, aiming his barrel around the room, determined to protect his VP.

The room is pitch black, but I flash my light around and find her huddled behind a tall cabinet.

Tears stream down her face, and her mouth is taped shut.

I kneel before her and gently pull it away.

She bursts into tears.

I cup her face and kiss her, then pull back. “Who’s got a damn knife?”

Slaughter gets to work on one side, while Drae slices through the tape on the other.

“Be careful of her arm,” I warn, hoping she’s not been badly injured.