“What’s wrong?” Aiden asked.
“Sasha’s in trouble.” Dorian climbed in after Charley and slammed the door. “We need to get to Manhattan—now.”
Without another word, Aiden shot out of the driveway, hit the main road, and floored it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Aiden sped toward the city, but the clunky SUV was not Dorian’s Ferrari, no matter how hard he pushed.
Charlotte was silent in the backseat beside him, chewing her thumbnail, her knee bouncing as she frantically tried to call her sister. Dorian reached over to give her a reassuring squeeze, but he couldn’t stop her fretting.
“Everything will be okay,” he said softly.
He believed it. He needed Charlotte to believe it too.
Sasha was smart and resourceful—just as tough as her big sister. They’d get to her soon enough, figure this out, and then he’d bring both women back to Ravenswood permanently. No more free rein in the city, no more unplanned road trips. He didn’t care what Charlotte needed to tell her uncle to keep up the ruse. He only cared that she and her sister were safe.
“Everything will be okay,” he said again.
“How can you say that?” Charlotte barked. She had her phone in a death grip, but Sasha hadn’t responded to any of her calls or texts. “I have no idea what’s going on. Sasha’s probably freaking out. Aiden, can’t you go any faster?”
“I’m trying,” he said, but there was nothing he could do. Eighty was about the limit on this beast, and FDR Drive was always a crapshoot. Aiden finally made it to the exit, but the moment they hit Ninety-Sixth Street in Manhattan, an endless sea of brake lights appeared ahead.
“For fuck’s sake.” Aiden eased them into a stop. “What now?”
Dorian opened his window and leaned out to see what was going on.
His stomach dropped.
Several NYPD cars blocked the intersection ahead, attempting to redirect traffic. On the sidewalk, they were just starting to set up barricades, clearing away a rapidly gathering crowd of onlookers.
“What’s happening?” Charlotte asked, opening the window and craning her neck to get a better view.
A fire engine roared past them, followed by two ambulances and a fire chief SUV.
“Looks like a fire,” Dorian said.
Two military vehicles came next, followed by a S.W.A.T. van.
“Or… not,” Aiden said. “Sometimes Ireallyhate this city.”
“Shit.” Charlotte pounded her fist against her thigh. “Shit, shit, shit!”
They were at a complete standstill, boxed in from all sides, nowhere to drive. Up ahead, two cops walked down from the main intersection with police dogs. Two more followed behind them, holding poles with mirrors attached to the ends. It looked like they were stopping at each car, checking out the undercarriages, talking to the drivers.
“They’re looking for someone,” Dorian said. “Or something.”
“I can’t stay here.” Charlotte unhooked her seat belt. “They want those dogs to sniff everyone’s ass for drugs or bombs? Fine. But I need to get to my sister.”
“Charlotte,” Dorian said. “Try to relax. We’ll get through this snag and—”
“Yourelax. My sister needs me. Now.”
“We’ll get to her as soon as we possibly can,” Dorian said. His insides churned with worry and frustration, but he kept his voice calm. “Let’s just—”
“I’m going on foot.” Charlotte pushed open the door, but Dorian caught her arm.
“Wait,” he pleaded. “We’ll cut across town as soon as we reach the next block.”
