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I hand the phone back before I break it. “Time?”

“Three forty-six.”

I look toward the restaurant.

I dropped her off at three thirty-seven.

Nine fucking minutes. That's all it took.

I hear her voice inside my head. I love you, too.

Nine minutes later, Mercer carried her unconscious out the back of the building.

“Vehicle?”

“Stolen plates.”

“Of course.”

“But we have it.” Bishop's man swipes across the screen.

Another camera catches the SUV leaving the lot.

Another from a business down the street.

Then a traffic camera.

“We're building the route.”

“Build it faster.”

He looks at Bishop, not at me.

Bishop doesn't react.

“Where's Violet?”

“Inside.”

I head for the door.

“Roman.”

I stop.

Bishop catches up. “You go in there looking like that, the police are going to remember you.”

“I don't give a fuck.”

“You will if they stop you from finding her.”

That gets me.

I look down. My hands are curled into fists. I force them open.

Bishop watches me. “Control it.”

I stare at him. He knows better than most people what happens when I stop controlling myself.