We’re outside of a bar, the last tendrils of afternoon light filtering over the heavily forested landscape in the background. The establishment in front of us is a squat brick building with dated signage that's faded over time. There are a few neon beer logos crowding the glass front, and the gravel parking lot is full of motorcycles and jacked-up trucks. A few patrons linger outside, smoking as they laugh and converse near the front door.
“Where are we? Why are we stopping?” My voice is rough with sleep, and sounds far more snippy than I intend for it to.
“North Dakota. Rugby, to be exact.” Dominic answers as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes.
I give him an incredulous look. “Now isn't the time for a fucking smoke break.”
“No, it isn't.” He shrugs as if we aren't racing against the damn clock. “But the GPS signal stops here.”
My eyes zero in on the device propped on the dash, my heart slamming. The single blinking dot is stationary at this location.
I grab the burner before throwing my door open and leaving my friend behind. My boots crunch across the gravel, and a few eyes stray to me as I walk with purpose into the bar.
I push past the threshold, looking around wildly for familiar brown hair, but come up short. The air is thick with smoke, and the rickety tables that make up the center of the floor are clear. Most people are seated at the bar, where two women in tank tops and cut-off shorts serve drinks.
“What can I help you with, sugar?” One bartender asks as I eye the empty bathroom doors propped open to the far right.
She isn't here.
Which means someone has her fucking phone.
My fist tightens around the burner, nearly crushing the device as my eyes scan the customers. A flash of purple has my head whipping around to the left end of the bar.
A lone patron, big and imposing, rests on a stool with his hand cupping the rim of a whisky glass. If I were in my right mind, I would have connected the dots early on, but as I stalk towards him, I don't even register the familiar messy blonde hair.
All I can focus on is Addison’s phone resting face down on the countertop next to him.
I grab the back of the patron’s white t-shirt, fisting it as I yank him back before slamming his side into the bar roughly. The bartenders gasp, scurrying to get away as everything goes silent in the establishment.
I cock my fist back, ready to strike, until the voice of a past life has me pausing in my fury.
“Missed me, boss?” Theodore smirks, his round wire-rimmed glasses sitting crooked on the bridge of his nose. The faint scar over his lip, a trophy of a fight he won when we were kids, pulls up with his Cheshire grin. Deep green eyes full of mirth squint at me.
“Theodore?” I breathe, confused.
His light brows shoot up to his hairline. “Are you gonnakiss me? Why are you looking at me like that?”
I blink, my balled fist lowering as I release his shirt. “What the fuck is going on? Why do you have Addison’s phone?” I grab it off the bar, shoving it in his direction.
Realization strikes across his features. “Was that her name? She was a fucking firecracker. Great rack on her.”
My eyes cut a warning glare at him. “Watch yourfuckingmouth, Reese.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Whoa, didn't mean to strike a chord there. I only have her phone because it was all I could grab off of Logan Hughes before he shoved her into the back of his truck.”
Addison’s cousin.
“Fuck!” I curse, slamming the burner phone onto the countertop.
Theo frowns at my outburst. “What’s gotten into you? Did you know the target?”
I sigh, resting my head back against my shoulders as I pray to whatever fucking gods will hear me. “She’s my girlfriend. She didn't know her family was a part of the Northwestern syndicate.”
“Oh, shit,” Theo mumbles. “Happy you found someone, but what are the fucking odds? I was on my way back to Ohio, and the hit popped up on my feed. I just wanted to make some pocket change on my way home.”
“Theo?” Dom’s tone of disbelief reaches us, and I peer over my shoulder at him. The unlit cigarette hangs from his lips, his eyes wide as he takes in his childhood best friend.
Theo’s face falls, his features softening. “Bug…”
