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The clamps released, and I hit the transport floor, my bad leg folding beneath me. The hatch sealed before I got upright, and there was a low hum as the transport lifted.

I pressed my back against the side of the vehicle. Fuck! Everything hurt. I had no comm, no weapon, a head wound that blurred my vision, and a hamstring tear that wouldn’t hold my weight for a sprint to safety.

If that jerk carried out his threat, and I was certain he would, he’d compromise my accounts, tamper with my identity, and leave a financial trail that made me look like the worst kind of grifter.

The transport banked left, and I gripped a rail to take the weight off my leg. Where were they taking me?

Think, Myers. You’ve defused bombs with less to work with than this.

But there was the problem. I’d always had backup. My squad or my crew either beside me or in my ear, guiding, supporting, or wisecracking.

By now, Dead Stick would know I was missing. And so would Rennick. Fuck! Rennick. If the worst happened to me, he’d never know. Damn. None of them would know why I’d vanished. They wouldn’t believe the shit about the stolen credits, but my end would remain a mystery.

I was alone. There had to be a way out, but the only thing that flashed through my throbbing head was I’m so screwed.

Chapter 18

Rennick

Tambi pinned the timeline for Cass’s disappearance to a corkboard she’d yanked out of a closet in under two minutes. Red string, nodes, clean handwriting.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered to Monica.

“It’s how her brain works.”

“Primitive?”

She snort-laughed. “Say that to her face. It’s an old-school homicide trick. Brain, hands, eyes all working together. It makes the pieces fit. Now, shush. Listen to what our primitive boss has to say, so we can find out what Cass is up to and go get her if she needs us.”

“Cass left the warehouse at nineteen-forty with a plate of food for Rennick. The dock camera puts her walking toward the Chorus at nineteen-forty-three. The next camera picks her up turning north into the shopping district at nineteen-forty-six. After that, nothing. I can’t access feeds outside the area we own.” Tambi’s expression told me exactly how fucked off she was about that.

Monica pulled up the footage on her comm. “She’s not wandering. Look at her stride. She’s tracking someone.”

Doc was tapping her data pad repeatedly. “Her comm is still offline. That’s not a dead battery. Cass charges her gear every night.”

“Someone killed it.” Tambi’s expression was fierce. “Or they took it off her and broke it.”

My hands were fists at my sides. “Is she in trouble with someone? An ex? Former boss? Angry client?”

“No trouble. Some lousy ex-partners, but none that bother her,” Tambi said. “What about you two? Get into a fight?”

I glowered at her. “No fight. We’re good. Her disappearance has nothing to do with me.”

“We’ll cut through the niceties, since we know you’re fucking. Do you want more than that from Cass, and you pushed too hard?” Tambi asked.

“I didn’t push her for more than she’s willing to give, if that’s what you’re asking.” Even though I longed for more, Cass gave me all that she could, and I respected that. I hated it. My mate bond howled for more, and my ship pined when she left, but once again, that was a me issue to unfuck, not a Cass issue for her to handle.

“Tell us more about this family meeting.” Monica stood in front of me, arms crossed.

“I went to visit my uncle to talk about the ship.”

“What did he tell you? Leave nothing out. It could be important.”

I told them. All of it. The meeting with Navarre, the offer to replace the Chorus, the threat to pull the family’s support if I didn’t comply.

“This uncle of yours, he cool?” Doc asked.

“He can be. But he’s also powerful and expects his orders to be followed.”