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Got it. I take off to find Karlee’s stolen my fucking car. Swearing, I remember leaving the keys inside. I take one of the SUVs tricked out for speed and jump behind the wheel. The keys to these are always at the ready, and there are more than enough vehicles here for those inside.
I hit the road going well over the speed limit, keeping an eye on the tracker now showing on the GPS. Both Laura and Harold come from money. It had been in the files about Karlee’s classmates and friends.
I can’t let myself think about anything but reaching her and how Leo let me go.
Probably because he knew, for all my stating, I needed to see this fucking through. I’d have taken off, the first and only time in my long career with him.
I’m willing to lose my job or take whatever punishment may come for my decision to take off on my boss. I’ll do this all willingly because I know without a doubt, Karlee’s worth everything.
Leo wouldn’t, but even if that were the case, I’d still be here, driving to her.
And if I’m too late . . .
I shut that line of thought down.
Tonight’s going down like planned, only I’m not going to be part of the action. Nicolo and Diego are more than capable, and there’s enough muscle I won’t be missed.
Either way, though, the Smith of Smith Group is going down tonight by my hand. It’s just going to depend on how. That’s contingent on whether Karlee gets so much as a broken fucking nail.
Her phone’s not moving, and it’s on campus, which I didn’t expect. I park and jump out, hitting the pavement at a run, cutting across the lawns when needed to reach the art building.
“Tizio.”
I stop and whirl, gun drawn, and Nicolo puts up his hands. Diego just steps behind Nicolo. “Down, man.”
“What are you both doing here?”
Diego doesn’t grin. “Leo, well, Scarlett figured you might like backup. I thought she’d be at the other residence?”
I shake my head, turning my back on them as I call her phone. She’s stopped. Or the phone hasn’t moved, and she should be right here. She should?—
I stagger back as the blue-white light of a phone lights up on the edge of the stairs.
Diego puts a steadying hand on me as Nicolo goes to get the phone.
He takes a long ass time to get up, and it feels like my lungs are being ripped into bloody shreds with each breath.
“Fuck.” One word. That’s all he says.
He comes over and hands me the phone.
Blood. There’s blood on the screen.
Oh yeah. Someone is going to fucking die.
I pull out my gun, and the other two do the same. They spread out. I hold up my hand as voices reach me, and we all melt back into the shadows.
Karlee is stumbling along, and she’s bleeding. I can’t tell where from.
Behind her is one Rue El Cabeza, or Laura, hair pulled back and a hard expression on her face that ages her up by a few years.
A knife glints in the light of the streetlamp.
“Where the fuck is it? I’ve been nice, played nice with you, not so nice with your brother who stole information from me. The stupid idiot didn’t know what he had until I had his pretty girlfriend threatened. And then he got himself caught and sent to prison. So, we’ve just done a nice little tour of campus, and it’s not in the computer labs.”
She grabs Karlee by the hair and puts the knife to her throat.
“The art room. Your friend Gideon’s main studio.”
