I smirk.Sounds like something Izzy would do.“Where isIsaac?”
After Izzy was cleared of murder charges, Isaac gave me the month off, clearly stipulating Izzy wasn’t going to leave his sight until he “had his fill.” Reading his coded statement, I was more than happy to take a leave of absence from my position. It is my first official vacation in nearly fiveyears.
“Isaac is in Tiburon,” Hunter replies. I hear him run his hand along his scruff beard. “I don’t know when he is coming back. I’ve been trying his cell phones all day, they keep going straight to hisvoicemail.”
My brow arches. Isaac is never unreachable. His cells are an extension ofhisbody.
“Can you send Roger to keep an eye on her? He’s as boring as bat shit, but he’s good at his job. He’ll make sure Izzy stays out ofmischief.”
“Can’t,” Hunter retorts. “He’s at Vegas helping Parker secure Isaac’sasset.”
My eyes squint when a semi-trailer comes over the horizon, blinding me with its highbeams.
After flashing my lights at the truck driver and flipping him the bird, I say, “Whataboutyou?”
Hunter sheepishly chuckles. It is a laugh I only hear when he is in trouble or causing it. “I’m a littleindisposedrightnow.”
He’s not theonlyone.
“I’m two hundred miles out,” Iexplain.
Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate, but it going to take me at least three hours to get to Izzy, someone else in Isaac’s team might becloser.
“That’s means you’re fifteen hundred miles closer to Izzy than me. I’ve tried everyone, but being New Year’s Eve, I’m running out of options. Besides, you’re the only man Isaac trustswithIzzy.”
Muffled voices sound down the line before Hunter says, “I got to go; can you do this ornot,Hugo?”
My eyes flick to the clock on my dashboard, displaying it is a little after nine PM. Even if I continue on my trip, I won’t reach Rochdale until 3 AM. I don’t think Ava would appreciate me rocking up to her door that early in the morning, and I don’t need to add any more nails to my coffin by pissingheroff.
“I’ll do it,” I say, pulling my car over to the side of the road. “But you are going to fucking owe me,Hunter.”
Hunter chuckles. “I’ll add it to the long list offavors.”
Not giving me a chance to reply, he disconnectsthecall.
* * *
By the timeI’m turning onto the street the Dungeon nightclub is located on, I’m exhausted and beyond pissed. I promised Isaac I'd always protect Izzy, and I will, but her timing couldn’t be anymorefucked.
I pull my Chevelle to the curb at the front of the club and peel out of my car. Travis, the bouncer, greets me with a dip of his head as I stormtowardshim.
“Cormack sent a town car to collect Cate,” Travis advises. “That only leaves you Izzy todealwith.”
I roll my eyes before entering the double doors he is holding open for me. The intoxicating scent of alcohol infused with sweat smacks me in the face when I enter the main section of the Dungeon. It is crammed to the rafters with patrons out enjoying the end of another year.A year that packed more punch than I was prepared for.I extend to my full height, seeking Izzy amongst the crowd. The quicker I get her out of here, the quicker I can get back onto the road. My brows furrow when I spot Izzy dancing with a man who has sandy blond hair. He either has a death wish or isn’t a local, because no man in this town is brave enough to talk to Izzy, let alone dancewithher.
“He has a death wish,” I mutter, pacing closertoIzzy.
Not only is Izzy wearing a dress that leavesnothingto the imagination, he’s grinding up on her like Robin Thicke grinded up on Miley Cyrus at the MTV Video Music Awards.Isaac is going to kill him. As the final minute of the year counts down on the clock shackled to the ceiling, I barge my way through the mass of sweating bodies cavorting on the dance floor. Just as the cheer of “Forty-eight” seeps from Izzy’s mouth, I seize her elbow and drag to the edge of the dancespace.
“What the hell are you doing, Izzy?” I ask, staring into massively dilated eyes that clearly expose the extent of her intoxication. She iswellpasttipsy.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m dancing,” she replies, her slur not impeding her sassyattitude.
When she attempts to stumble away, I grab her wrist. Her head rockets backtome.
“Dancing? You are not dancing. You are provoking Isaac, trying to forcehishand.”
Izzy snarls, baring teeth before she shakes her head. Beads of sweat fling off her drenched nape and land on thefloor.
