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I bring the Ferrari to a stop outside the police cordon.
Several news helicopters beat their blades overhead, cutting the air loudly. The moment I step from the car, the assembled crowd turns to me, some of them calling out my name and taking out their cellphones, aiming at me as they scream and yell.
I stride toward the cordon and two police officers walk toward me, their hands raised, one of them opening his mouth to tell me to stay back.
But staying back isn’t an option when Jade is in there.
I fine-tune my senses and let my eyes skim over the scene.
The police cordon is about twenty-five yards from the restaurant. The restaurant itself sits on the street corner, glass lying in the street like tiny pieces of snow, the day dry and yet blisteringly cold. Dragon breath rises around me and the police officers as we get closer. The windows to the restaurant have been bashed in, and parked cars line the streets, providing cover if whatever psychos have taken her hostage start firing as I make my way there.
“Sir, please—”
I duke to the left and then dart to the right, moving with a speed these men clearly don’t expect from me.
I duck my head and sprint like my life depends on it.
No, I sprint like my woman’s life depends on it, like my baby’s life depends on it.
Because it does, they do.
I haven’t even had a chance to tell her I love her yet.
Behind me, everybody is shouting.
Somebody is roaring through a megaphone for me to stop, but I can’t. I can’t even think about stopping when I know that my lady is in there, unsafe, our child and our future in the hands of some lunatics.
I sprint and then jump, sailing through the shattered glass front of the restaurant, landing in a crouch and then stand, eyes flitting here and there, assessing the scene.
The restaurant is empty except for the men clustered in the middle, all of them wearing black hoodies, black jeans, and black boots, their hoods pulled up and dark scarfs pulled up to cover their mouths.
The only part of them visible is their eyes, which stare firmly, silently telling me that they’re as ready to do violent things as I am.
The men are large, some of them as big or even bigger than I am, and most of them clutch sharp glinting knives in their hands, reflecting the light of the electric bulbs back at me.
I count seven masked and hooded men, all of them standing in a cluster in the center of the restaurant.
Several tables and chairs lie like thrown children’s toys all over the place.
In the middle of the cluster of men, the biggest man of them all stands with his back to me. He’s a hulking giant with a broad back, and it takes me a moment to realize that he’s standing in front of Jade, obscuring my vision of her with his body.
“Let her go, motherfucker,” I snarl. “I’m here. You’ve got me right where you want me. So let’s settle this like men.”
The man turns slowly, letting me see that Jade is tied to a chair, a rag stuffed into her mouth and tied with duct tape. I scan her quickly, assessing her for injuries. She looks physically fine except for the duct tape, but I can’t begin to guess at the terror lancing through her at this moment.
Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, tears streaks down her cheeks and neck, and even now I’m reminded of the way her skin glistened for me last night, every inch of it alive to our pleasure.
If I don’t save her, we’ll never get to share that again.
Nor will we laugh together, banter together, fucking love together.
I stare hard at her, willing her to see how sorry I am that I got her into this mess.
This bastard wanted me.
And he used her as a pawn.
I turn to the man, something sinking in my chest when I see who it is.
He’s the only one not wearing a mask, which means when he smiles I’m free to read the self-satisfied bluster in it.
“I should’ve known it was you,” I growl.
He smiles even wider.
“Hello, old friend.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jade
I move my wrists, seeing if there’s any give at all to the duct tape.
I’m still reeling from the events of the last hour.
My shift was going terribly enough already, with my boss masking a bunch of snide comments when he found me in the break room hunched over my notepad, scrawling out some plot ideas for the story I’m currently working on. He was grinning broadly, coldly, and telling me it was good to have a little pipe dream when the door burst open and the men charged in.
They smacked him across the mouth and then grabbed me, so many hands gripped around my arms and wrists it was impossible to fight.
