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Chapter Forty Six
Cyrus
We’ve been searching for the asshole all night. I can’t go back with him still free and stalking our girl, I just can’t. I know the others feel the same, so even though we’re exhausted, we keep pushing forward, checking every fucking hotel and shitty place to stay. We investigate some rented houses, police reports, even fucking neighbourhood watch reports. We show his picture around and ask our ‘friends’ in the city, closing the net tighter and tighter, and still nothing.
But she’s not wrong, he’ll come for her. He has to be here, and the taunting messages she’s getting are only proof of that. He’s finally admitting he’s watching her, so he’s not hiding anymore. He wants her to know, which means he’s escalating. It won’t be long before he makes a move on her, and we have to stop him before then. I refuse to let him touch her, never mind breathe in her direction.
She’s spent so long healing; he can’t fuck this up now. Not when she’s finally learning to trust people and let them in again.
I’m still shocked by her past and unsure what to say about it. Nothing I can say, though, will make it better. I’m a selfish prick. I’m glad it brought her to us, but I also hate that she had to survive something like that. I don’t want her to go through that again, to add scars to her already big list, so no. Crew will stop this asshole in a way the police never could—for good.
“Fuck, where else could he be?” Bray slams his fist into a post as we pass. I roll my eyes, but inside, I’m worried. That’s usually a me move, not something we see from our fun-loving, flirty brother. We are all feeling the pressure.
“We’ll find him,” I repeat for the hundredth time, scanning the shady street we’re walking down. At four in the morning, it’s almost deserted except for the homeless and some druggies. We give them a respectful distance and continue our search.
“How can you be so sure?” Asher asks, apprehensive. “It’s almost dawn, and we haven’t even caught a scent of him. It’s like he’s a fucking ghost.”
“He’s a convicted murderer, he’ll slip up at some point. The whole city is watching for him now, we just have to keep looking,” I reply around a yawn.
“We’re exhausted.” Asher sighs. “I hate to say it, but maybe we should call it a night and get some rest and then start again tomorrow—well, I guess today, with fresh eyes.”
Just then, we reach the car, and I turn to him. “Would you be able to sleep knowing he’s out there coming for our girl?” I demand, stepping closer. My anger, helplessness, and exhaustion are making me easy to enrage.
“Not really, but we’re going to make mistakes like this. Bray can barely think straight, you are slowing so much you can hardly walk, and we didn’t sleep last night since we were watching over Blair. We need sleep. I don’t like it any more than you,” he reasons, not reacting to my outburst or backing down.
“Guys, stop fighting, it solves nothing,” Bray inserts, and when I turn to him, I find his eyes are bloodshot and there are bags underneath. He does look wrecked. “Asher is right, I hate it, but he is. We are only going to hurt ourselves. We need to sleep, even for an hour or two, and then we’ll be right back out here. Fuck, she can sleep in our arms so we know she’s safe. Come on, big guy, what do you say?”
I grind my teeth, scanning the dark horizon. I hate that they are right. “Dawn, we go to sleep at dawn.” I won’t sleep, not with him out here, but they need to rest, and she probably does too. I just can’t stand the idea of going back empty-handed.
I promised to protect her, to end this, and that’s what I plan to do.
I can’t do that, though, if my brothers are suffering. It would be stupid to kill ourselves over this. We need to be sharp, rested, and determined.
“Deal,” they both reply, knowing it’s the best they will get.
So for the next few hours, while we race the rising sun, we search high and low. We split up but stay in contact by phone just in case. I check in on Blair, and she sends me a picture which has my cock hard, even as I smile. She’s lying in a bed with Faye asleep next to her, but she’s in nothing but her panties and a tiny tank top.
Me:Fuck, you’re enough to make a man want to come home.
Blair:Soon, please.
I don’t reply, knowing otherwise I’ll race back to her like the pussy-whipped fool I am. This is more important than fucking her senseless until she finally sleeps like she clearly needs to.
Asher checks in with another gang, probably waking them up and pissing them off. I deal with the riskier people of the city, those we respect due to their violent nature. I almost get my head taken off for waking one up, but they all agree to keep their feelers out. They know this is important, and it means some will try to bargain with him if they find him. Let them. I’d give up everything, all my money, status, and rep just to see her wide, carefree smile again.
Bray checks in with some homeless people and some of the final hotels where he might stay. That’s when he rings me, excited. “Meet at the car!”
I hurry there, finding Asher already waiting. “What’s going on?” he asks.
“I don’t know, he didn’t—” Just then, Bray jogs down the block, a small smile on his lips.
“Okay, that hotel smelled like dead bodies, which was a good sign. They clearly take everyone and anyone,” he rushes out.
“Point, Bray,” I demand, tired and anxious and taking it out on him, but luckily as my brothers, they are used to it.
“He remembers the man, not under the correct name of course, but a fake one. I made him write it down so we can recheck the others. He stayed for a week about two weeks ago and moved on. He was really shady and creepy, the man said.”
“Looks like he’s moving around, trying to lay low. Smart,” I comment.
