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It was empty.
Empty and with no evidence Lucas had ever been beside me in it.
Fuck. He’d carried me up the stairs while I was asleep, put me into his bed and was now…where? Heading back to challenge Officer Dewey and Detective Kitchner? Heading back into the violent maw of Trinity?
I scrambled out of bed—holy crap, where had my shorts gone?—and ran down the stairs. My cell. I needed my cell. And the gun Doctor Winchester had given me.
I couldn’t find either.
Fuck.
Lucas had either taken both, or hidden them, along with the card with her cell number on it
Fuck. Again.
Running to the landline phone in the kitchen, I picked up the handset and dialed Doctor Winchester’s number. Lucas may be a bad ass with a plan, but I had a photographic memory for numbers. Ha, take that Lucas fucking Pratt.
The veterinarian’s cell rang four times before it was answered.
“Doctor Winchester speaking,” her calmly poised voice slipped into my ear. “I have my arm inserted up to my elbow in a stallion’s anus at the moment, so please make this brief.”
“Lucas has left the house and taken the gun you left me and I have no idea where he’s gone,” I gushed, even as I pictured in my mind exactly what she had described. If I weren’t so worried about Lucas, I’d be severely grossed out.
Silence followed my rushed declaration.
“Doctor Winchester?” I said.
“The fucking stubborn pain in the ass,” she muttered.
I actually hiccupped out a startled laugh of agreement.
She sighed. “Okay, lock all the doors. Head down to his gym. There’s a panic room next to the safe room. The door is concealed but I can walk you through finding it.”
I blinked. A panic room? What the—
“I’m not locking myself in a panic room while Lucas is out there getting potentially killed,” I exclaimed.
The good doctor sighed again. “Veronica, you need to do what I’m telling—”
“Do you have another gun?”
Another heartbeat of silence followed my blurted question.
“Why do you want a gun?”
I frowned and turned on my heel to scan the room, just in case the gun she’d left me before suddenly and miraculously had reappeared on the coffee table.
It hadn’t.
“To go after Lucas,” I answered.
“Go after…” She laughed. She actually laughed at me. “Oh, honey child, I can see why he loves you so much. But if I was to tell Lucas I let you go back to—”
She stopped.
I grinned, a cold triumph snaking through me.
Back. Go back.
