Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I shove down the irritation of feeling like a fucking office manager scheduling mercenaries for a job and send this new asshole a link. The job is so fucking dangerous, right in the middle of cartel territory in South America, that I would skip over it. But if the guy takes it and succeeds, I’ll be thirty thousand dollars richer.
I pause with my fingers hovering over the keyboard rather than typing out a message to Liam with the equivalent of eat shit and die, you’re fired.
I can see the benefit of having others do the rough and dangerous shit for me, but this was never part of my plan. I never wanted to be a goddamned administrator.
With a deep breath, I close down all programs on my computer but my security. I scan through the video from last night slowly, treating it like I haven’t already watched this footage three times already.
Just like the times before, there are no shadows, no lurking forms, no reflections in the distance off of binoculars.
Nothing.
It makes me feel empty, desperate, ready to burn down the world to find her.
Picking up my phone, I stare at the damn thing like it’s done something to personally offend me.
I’ve been avoiding this call. I never ask for help, but the way I feel is ten times greater than how I’ll feel for placing the call.
“Thumper,” the man says, caution already in his voice from the call showing up as UNAVAILABLE on his screen.
“It’s Angel.”
Silence fills the line. He may have been surprised and maybe a little relieved to see I was alive when I showed up at the clubhouse, but I’d never mistake that for us being friends.
We aren’t the same, and I know he probably feels about me the way the other members weren’t shy to express. What I do for a living is disdainful, wrong. They see it as me taking advantage of people when they’re at their lowest points in life.
“I’m looking for Lauren.”
“Okay.”
I huff, half in irritation and the other half because good for him, not just offering up any information. I don’t know that she knows she has that level of protection from them.
“I have some information to give her. She must’ve lost or had to get rid of her phone. My calls aren’t going through.”
The truth is, she dumped her phone before she ended up in Tamaulipas because I tracked the motherfucker to a trash can on the other side of town near the hotel we stayed at.
“If we’re able to get in contact with her, we’ll give her the message.”
I clench my teeth until my jaw hurts.
“It’s like that?”
“How else do you expect it to be, Angel?”
On one hand, I’m glad he’s not just handing over her information, on the other, I want to strangle him for making this more difficult for me.
Instead of arguing with a man capable of sending the entire Cerberus MC after me, I simply hang up the phone. It’s very possible that Lauren is standing right beside him, just like it’s possible they haven’t seen her since she rode away with me after dropping that little girl off.
I’ve considered her going back to the clubhouse but shoved it away. Lauren doesn’t like to look needy. She’s as much of a lone wolf as I am. But as I stand from my computer and stretch out my back, I just can’t stop thinking about the possibilities.
Planning not to leave any stone unturned, I decide I’ll fly out tomorrow to check. When I do find her, it’s only going to make me hurt her more, make her beg for more, because Kincaid was very clear about not being welcome on their property.
Chapter 34
Lauren
Darkness has always been my friend. It’s a shield, a way to hide not only physically but also emotionally. Tears can run down my cheeks in darkness and stay a secret. I can clench my hands against pain unseen in order to not appear weak.
The darkness tonight, half a mile from Angel’s house, is different. It comes alive around me, and not in the living creature sense.
It’s fucking cold, most animals having enough sense this time of year to find warmth until the sun rises.
It’s the thrill of what I’m doing, of the unknown, that is animating the air around me, the ground under my feet.
My body vibrates with all the possibilities.
I refuse to think of what comes next. I have no plans past tonight because making them would be fruitless. There’s a real chance that I’ll never see sunrise.
Angel wanted me gone, couldn’t even be bothered to stick around after untying me from his bed.
He was disgusted, just done with the idea of me.
I have no illusions that I can sneak up on him, that I can fully surprise him.
He had to know after clearing out my safe deposit box that I’d seek vengeance. I can only hope to hurt him before he renders me incapable of further revenge.