Page 106 of Branded Betrayal

She could have gone into town.

My gut roils.

She could have stopped in to see that fucking vet.

I grab my phone from the center console and dial Nash’s number as I head toward Main Street. I peer out my windows for any sign of Burgess’s truck parked in the area. I don’t see it or Savannah’s car anywhere.

I can’t even be relieved, though. The threat is still out there, and now, so is she.

And if I know she’s gone, so does Wilkerson.

I don’t even wait for him to speak once he answers. “Have you heard from Savannah?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you if I did? You got plans to finish her off? Like what we already said wasn’t enough to push her over the edge?”

“I just drove into town. I didn’t see her car anywhere.” I scrape a hand down the front of my beard, but the knot in my gut tightens. “Maybe it’s nothing and she’s just taking a minute. But, Nash . . . what if something’s wrong?”

“You’re what’s wrong. Stay away from her.”

“Nash, I’m telling you. Something doesn’t feel right. Have you seen or talked to her since she left the ranch?”

“No. Why?”

A sharp sigh expels from my lungs. “I found her at the hospital. Wyatt called and told me she went there. It was . . . it was bad. And she took off again. I’m worried. She’s upset and alone, and her phone’s off.”

Nash is silent for a few seconds. “Where would she go?”

“I don’t know. I drove through town and out to Red Rock. I can’t find her.”

“Maybe she just needs space. We should give it to her.”

“No,” I say, backing out of the driveway. “I can’t risk her being alone out there. I’m going back to the hospital. Maybe she stopped back to see Wyatt and told him something. Meet me there.” Sweat pebbles the back of my neck. “Something’s not right. I can feel it, Nash. Just trust me.”

Ending the call, I lean my head back against the seat. I haven’t heard from Wilkerson, but I know he’s watching. What if . . . ?

I squeeze my eyes shut.

What if he or his guys did something to her?

Nash’s caustic words lance my brain, and I stomp on the gas.

When I make it back to the hospital, I swerve around a corner and pull into the parking lot.

The blood ices in my veins. My tires screech to a stop.

Savannah’s car is parked close to the main entrance.

I jump out of the truck and run past it on my way inside. The driver’s seat is empty.

So either she’s still inside or . . .

I curl my fingers into tight fists and press them against my forehead. I can’t think like that. I won’t.

I charge through the entrance and dart toward the elevator. I jab the Up button over and over until the door finally opens at a snail’s fucking pace. It slowly moves toward Wyatt’s floor, and I take off down the hall as soon as the doors open wide enough for me to slip out.

My stomach drops once I get to Wyatt’s doorway.

No Savannah.