Page 115 of Chasin’s Surrender

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“Weston and Jonny are in location,” Chasin told Jameson, and bit back the urge to tell him to drive faster.

“Any sign of Bent at the address he gave her?”

“No. But there’s still fifteen minutes before Evie’s supposed to show.”

Five minutes gone.

Five minutes since he’d told Genevieve he’d bring Bobby home and they were still three minutes away from the abandoned trailer.

“You know where the turnoff is?” Chasin asked.

“Yep.”

The trailer was off the beaten path and on private property. The property owner had seen a car with an out-of-state license plate pull down her private dirt road marked with a ‘no trespassing’ sign. She watched from her house as the car stopped in front of an old trailer on the edge of her land. A man carried a woman inside, then left by himself. If the owner hadn’t called the car in, they wouldn’t have had a lead on Bobby’s location.

And thank God the property owner had been a seventy-year-old woman instead of someone younger who would’ve gone out to investigate and possibly gotten hurt. Though when Jonny had called Chasin to tell him where to go, he’d warned them that the old woman had a shotgun and she was of the mind that if someone approached her home, they’d find themselves with buckshot in their teeth.

Smart woman.

Jonny had informed him that a unit was en route and that Chasin and Jameson had the cops by at least five minutes. He added that his friend Vaughn would be one of the cops on the scene.

Chasin was pleased Vaughn would be one of them. After the team had moved the women to the farm and Holden had moved in as well, they hadn’t needed Vaughn to play bodyguard. Though as evidence suggested, they’d fucked up, and maybe they had needed someone full-time on Bobby.

Chasin stared out the window and thought back to the briefing they’d had at the office. All the men, sans Holden, add Jonny, were gathered around the conference table, Micky hard at work at her laptop. Everyone felt Bobby’s disappearance deep, but it was the look on Jonny’s face that had given Chasin pause. He had no idea why Jonny looked the way he did other than he was a good man and a woman had been injured and taken.

But it seemed like more. The pain he saw was enough for Chasin to question the wisdom of having Jonny in the room. Before he could suggest a change, Holden had called in. Genevieve had no idea her and Bobby’s phones were monitored. Being as she had no clue that Micky could hack a phone, she hadn’t known that Chasin was listening to the conversation with Bent.

Through the conversation, Chasin’s blood boiled, anger had filled him to bursting. But it was Jonny’s hostility that had changed the temperature in the room. Each time Bent had called Bobby a bitch or mentioned her bleeding out, Jonny’s aggression ratcheted up. And that was saying something, since every man in that room was feeling the need to unleash violence and retribution.

Chasin told Evie he was proud of her, but proud didn’t begin to cover what he felt. He’d heard the tremor in her voice, the fear, the anguish, the tight words. But she’d held on, she played it right. And knowing his woman the way he did, he knew that conversation had torn her up. He also knew that if she wasn’t already questioning giving herself up for Bobby, she would be soon. He hoped that Holden could handle that until Chasin found Bobby and could take over.

That thought didn’t tear him up—it killed. Genevieve needed him and all he wanted to do was hold his woman and protect her. But Bobby needed him more, so he prayed to God Holden could handle it in the meantime.

As soon as Holden had sent the address, Jonny took off like a shot and Weston took off after him like the hounds of hell were chomping at his heels. Nixon and Alec ran out the door as soon as Micky had given them Bent’s actual location.

Jameson and Chasin were getting in his truck to head back out to look for Bobby, whereabouts unknown, since they hadn’t had a goddamn clue where she was when Jonny had called about the trailer.

Now it had been eight minutes since that call. Seven minutes left until Bent would realize he’d been had.

Jameson turned off the road. The trailer was in sight.

Finally.

“We go in careful,” Jameson grunted as he sped down the lane.

The irony wasn’t lost on Chasin—there wasn’t one thing careful about the way he was driving.

“Just to say, our arrival has been noted if someone’s watching.”

“Do not go in there without clearing the door first,” he warned. “I know you want to get to her but we do this smart.”

Chasin didn’t think Bent Bromley had the skills to rig a door with explosives, and he figured the guy was working alone, but he’d also been in enough situations to know you never underestimate your enemy.

“I take the front,” Chasin announced.

The truck came to a stop and both men exited, weapons drawn. Jameson maneuvered to the back of the trailer, Chasin scanned the open field. The closest hiding spot was a good three-hundred yards away, so unless Bent had hired talent, even if he was hiding in the woods there was no chance he’d get an accurate shot off.