Page 122 of Alec’s Dream

“I’m—”

“Straight up, I get you want to be out there looking for your granddaughter but I need you to stay here. Macy, Caleb, and Joss cannot be left unprotected. Every member of my team is out looking and I don’t wanna pull one of them to come out here.”

Alec paused and I held my breath. My dad looked pissed but Alec looked equally determined.

“I know it goes against the grain for a man like you not to be out in the trenches searching. But I’m asking—no, begging—please stay here and watch over them. I’m torn, Ron. Half my life is in this house, the other half out there, scared. I cannot leave—”

“Go! I’ll stay. Just…”

“I’ll bring her home.”

Then Alec shot out the door, leaving me in tatters.

Half his life was in this house. The other half was not.

She was somewhere scared.

I couldn’t keep my feet. Caleb’s arms tightened around me and my dad came to our side and wrapped his big, strong arms around me and my son.

My dad gave good hugs. But Alec’s were better.

After I caught my breath, I prayed Alec found Rory.

I needed my daughter home.

Alec

“We got a lock on Doug,” Nixon said from the driver’s seat as Alec swung into his friend’s truck.

“Where?”

“His parents’ house.”

Nix was driving down Alec’s long driveway at a high rate of speed but it still wasn’t fast enough.

“Rory?”

“Chasin says he’s got eyes on her. Jonny’s in there too, and he’s bleeding.”

“Is Rory…?”

Christ, he couldn’t finish his question. Alec wasn’t sure if he wanted to know—if he should know. He needed to keep his head straight and if Chasin had reported in that Rory was injured, the tenuous hold on his control would snap.

“Uninjured as far as he can see.”

Alec expelled the lungful of oxygen he’d been holding but the inferno in his gut remained.

Nixon sped toward the Spencer residence, and as the seconds ticked, Alec’s dark thoughts started to consume him.

Hunt. Maim. Destroy.

He was dizzy with the urge to hurt Doug the way the piece of shit had hurt his family.

Aurora was his and he’d let her down.

“Lock it down,” Nixon barked. “Don’t make me sorry I picked your ass up.”

“The fuck?”