“Eden. The girl who opened the door for us that night.”
Ace smirked. He was thinking of her as the woman who’d been enamored with Cue. Cross saw her differently now.
Wraith walked in through the front door, glancing around the room.
“Where’s Cypher?”
As if summoned, he walked out of the kitchen, eyeing Wraith. “What do you need?”
Wraith’s jaw squared. “Where the fuck is Cleo?”
“She’s with Addison.”
Wraith shifted his glare, and his temple pulsed. “Yeah, but where? Checked her location and it’s showing Main Street in Lawry for the last few hours.”
Oh fuck!Cross grabbed his phone, calling Addison. It went to voicemail after four rings.
“She turned off her location.” Cypher drove his hand over his head, staring down at his phone.
“I’m gonna fucking…” Wraith was beyond livid. This wasn’t the first time Cleo had done it. In fact, it had become a habit. Wraith turned to Cross. “You got tracking on Addison’s phone?”
Cross snorted. “I didn’t think I needed it.”
Until now, she hadn’t given him reason to think she’d pull reckless shit. His phone rang, and he glanced down.
“It’s her.” He brought the phone to his ear. “You back?”
The line was silent.Shit!
“Addison?”
“Not exactly.” Her voice sounded strange.
He furrowed his brows. “Where are you?”
“Well, traffic was really bad in the city and Cleo suggested we stop and wait it out. And” —she paused— “meet up with her friend.”
Every muscle in his body tightened. Cleo didn’t have friends. Not ones the club approved of. He sighed, shaking his head and catching Wraith’s attention by snapping his fingers. His brother turned, waiting.
“Let me guess, you’re at a bar.”
“Yes.”
“Fucking Cleo.” He glanced up at Wraith. “They’re at Starr’s again.”
Wraith’s jaw squared. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but Cleo hadn’t brought an accomplice last time. Cross couldn’t fault Addison. She didn’t know the situation she’d been dragged into.
Cross sighed. “You tell Cleo, for her sake, she better get her ass in your car and come home.”
“I don’t think that’s an option right now.”
Cross stilled, pressing the phone closer to his ear. Something was definitely off in her tone.
“Are you at a little dive bar on Main Street? It’s called Starr’s.”
“No.” She cleared her throat, lowering her voice. “We’re at The Bowery.”
Cross felt the blood drain from his face, and his muscles seized up.
