Page 89 of HateMates


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“This is on me. If anything happens, I take full—”

“Damn right, it is! I will bury you so deep, you won’t—”

“You don’t need to threaten me. I know the extent if anything happens to her.”

“You should. I didn’t hire you to fuck her!”

A sharp pain slices into my gut, and my hands begin to tremble.What have I done?“I’ll find her. You have my word.” Disconnecting the call, I drop my head against the wall and close my eyes, praying this is a nightmare I’ll soon wake up from.

“Tate, you need to pull it together.” Rochel comes up behind me. “You know, in these cases, they don’t go out of their way to kill. He’s not interested in taking her life. She’s a prized possession to him.”

I push away from the wall and face Rochel. “That supposed to make me feel better?”

“It’s supposed to give you hope. You need to put your emotions on the back burner.”

“Detective Rochel?” We both turn as Officer Miller approaches.

“Did you find her?” I spit out.

His expression tells me no. “We’re still running the search, but we did a scan for the plates from the liquor store. The car’s registered to a Vince Tillman. Same name on the assault report. The vehicle was last seen heading south out of the city about an hour ago.”

“And? That was an hour ago. Do they have eyes on her now?” I spit out.

“They made a stop. A gas station security camera caught a partial view of a woman getting out of the car.”

“The corner store across from her apartment,” I rush out. “Was it Mindy? Does she look unharmed?” God, please let her be safe at home.

“Opposite side of town. And it wasn’t her.”

“Then where is she? Where the fuck is she?” My voice cracks, my panic growing.

“Wait! Hold up!” Another officer comes racing down the corridor. “I think we got ’em.” He halts in front of us, catching his breath. “I have one of the techs on the phone. He needs to speak with you. Says it’s urgent.”

Rochel grabs the phone, placing it on speaker. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

“This guy is good. He definitely knew how to cover his tracks. We’ve gone through every stop light surveillance video, but only have footage of them leaving the store and from the gas station. The camera feed goes out before every light and turn he made.”

“How the hell does a measly real estate agent know how to tamper with government surveillance systems?”

“Money. He’s not measly. More like a tycoon. He’s one of the highest-grossing real estate agents in Manhattan. My guess is he hired someone. You have to know your stuff to hack into a city database.” My mind spins. My control is slipping, and I can’t handle another second to go by without knowing. “Wait—come on, baby. Boom! We got him.”

“Where is he?”

“Just pinged another of his license plates registered to him. Must have swapped cars. He’s headed northbound over the Brooklyn Bridge toward the city.”

Rochel twirls his hand. “Get a unit together. We’re going to apprehend him once he’s off the bridge.” He grabs me. “Let’s go.”

It takes us over thirty minutes to get to the bridge. When we arrive, the area is lit up in red and blue flashing lights. A spotlight is aimed at a sleek back town car with a man pinned against it. Rochel jumps out of his vehicle with me on his tail. He reveals his badge to the officer, who allows him to pass. Once we’re close, I sprint toward the town car.

“Tate—"

“I’m getting her out of there. You’re not stopping me.” And he’s not. An officer makes the mistake of trying to block me. Thankfully, Rochel calls out to let me through. “Where is she?” I call out, and an officer shakes his head. She’s not with him.

I run up to the guy they’re holding, grab his upper arm, and twist him. “Where the fuck is she—?” My words die off. “What the fuck?” I turn, searching for Rochel. “This ain’t him.” I shove the man away.

“What’s the meaning of this? I’ll have every single one of you fired for this.”

I turn my fury back to him, grinding my molars to hold on to the last of my control. “Why are you driving a car registered to Vince Tillman?”

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