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He shrugged. “It was a power move. I respect it.”
“He wasn’t mad,” I said, not giving a fuck if he respected it or not.
Kruger dialed Matthew’s phone. The longer it rang, the more alarmed I became.
When his voicemail picked up, I cursed and started to pace.
That was when I saw it.
Lying right there in the parking lot, carelessly tossed on the pavement.
Cursing, I snatched it from the ground. The uneasiness I’d felt before turned into untamed angst.
“Kruger.”
Whatever he heard in my voice had him instantly at my side. I held my hand between us, the leather bracelet I’d given him to wear lying limp across my palm almost as though even it knew it was not where it belonged.
“That’s his,” Kruger said, reaching for it.
I curled my fingers around and snarled, snatching it back so he couldn’t have it.
“What the fuck is it doing out here?”
“He’d never take this off,” I insisted. I knew it as well as my own name.
“I’m using the app,” Kruger announced.
That was when I remembered they all had trackers on each other. Suddenly, it seemed like a stellar idea. I leaned in to look at the screen, waiting impatiently for the location data to pull up.
And then the location pin dropped onto a map.
Kruger made a surprised sound. “He’s not on campus.” Using his index finger and thumb, he zoomed in on the screen. “He’s…” He made a face. “Is that…?”
I growled. “What the fuck is he doing at a hotel?” And then I realized. Realized so hard I jerked as if my brain slapped me across the face. “It’s him.”
“Him who?” Kruger demanded, agitation making him just as restless as me.
“McClaren.”
Kruger went still. The kind of still just before a bomb detonated. “That asshole would never come here.”
He’s angry. My father’s words from earlier made my ears ring and my heart pound so hard it made me lightheaded.
“We have to go,” I said, patting my pockets for my keys, cursing colorfully when I realized they were still inside.
Kruger held his up. “I’ll drive.”
As we ran to the Audi, he pulled up the location of Matthew’s phone again. It was still pinging in the same place.
“P would never just go meet him,” Kruger said, voice grim. “Especially not alone.”
“They forced him,” I said, thinking about the missed calls and lost bracelet.
Kruger burned rubber away from the curb, tossing his phone into my lap. “Call for backup.”
“McClaren probably owns half the force.”
“Not the cops. Elite.”
