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Abby’s husband, the active Navy SEAL. At Tiger’s look, she continued to type. “If the signals crap out in the swamp, Neil is a hell of a tracker.”
That skill had been honed as much by the bayou as being a SEAL, since he’d had a house there for years before marrying Abby. They still stayed there a lot of times when he wasn’t sent off on missions, though Skye knew tonight he was at Abby’s place in the Garden District.
“Get him,” Tiger said. “Where’s the Mustang? I’ll follow you to your place.”
She’d ridden with Vera tonight, so she pointed to his bike. He nodded, and retrieved his phone from her to type out a text to Colt.Have potential location and backup. Pursue your own leads while we’re confirming. I’ll keep you in the loop.
The phone immediately started buzzing with Colt’s name on the screen, but Tiger silenced it and stuck it in his pocket. “I’m not losing my niece to stray gunfire as these assholes fight it out with each other. We’ll call them in if we have to do it. Let’s talk to Neil first and get a game plan.”
He gave her his helmet, adjusted it as much as possible to make up for the bigger size, and found the spare skull cap he carried in his saddle bags. Without the high possibility of being stopped for not wearing one, she expected he wouldn’t have even bothered with it for himself.
After she got on behind him, he glanced back at her. “Hold on tight, so I know you’re there. Move as I move, just like at the rally, only we’re going to go a hell of a lot faster. When we have to stop for an intersection or stop sign, brace yourself by leaning back some and pushing against your foot pegs to keep yourself from being thrown against me.”
She wrapped her arms around him as he roared out of the parking lot. When he’d given her those lessons at the rally, he’d told her an experienced rider developed a sixth sense about traffic, anticipating the unexpected. She saw that now, as he seemed to adjust a beat before a vehicle pulled in front of him, or changed lanes as if oblivious to their presence.
His highly developed awareness of details in sessions as a sub had come from this, she suspected. Coordinating the operation of the bike, scanning his surroundings, staying aware of potholes, pedestrians, other vehicles, anything that would affect the balance of the bike or his destination.
Or the maximum speed he could reach to get there.
When he skimmed low on the curves, she had to remind herself what he’d said about trusting the tires. In this case, she put her trust in him. She made her body relax into the movements of his, though it was hard and tight. His eyes would be the same. Hard and still. Under her palms, she could feel his heart pounding with the bone-deep rage that fear could bring.
And under that, a cold-stone ache that they were already too late.
As soon as they arrived at her place, Skye ran up the stairs and put together the drones and associated tech she’d need. Tiger prowled around her place, staying out of the way but obviously not in the mood to sit. He received and sent a couple more texts, she assumed to Colt, but nothing that changed their course or added information, since he didn’t comment on them.
Within ten minutes of their arrival, her call for help had arrived. Neil stepped out of the elevator, Lawrence at his side. He’d arrived home in time for Neil to pull him in.
Skye felt relief at the sight of them. Though Lawrence was a former SEAL, he still had that edge to him, and it became even more evident in a situation like this, his sharp green eyes focused.
A tall, rangy male with a steady gray gaze and an imperturbable demeanor, Neil had a limitless well of patienceand uncanny intuition. Those traits had made him the perfect match for a Mistress with schizophrenia.
A Dom himself, his unlikely pairing with Abby had resulted in a match indescribable in its complexity; Vera called it proof of miracles. Ros said it showed the angels looked out for those in desperate straits, giving them a route to love and a life worth living.
A good thought for right now.
In her text to Neil, she’d said,child missing, need your help. Tiger’s niece. No police.Skye had resisted the urge to text others, like Athena’s husband Dale, also a retired SEAL, or Max, a mutual friend and former SEAL who now worked security for Kensington & Associates. K&A was a New Orleans manufacturing company whose top management were friends and clients of TRA.
Max and Dale had both served with Neil and Lawrence. However, because of that, she’d trust Neil and Lawrence to make the call if they thought more backup was needed.
As Tiger explained the situation to them, she understood why his father had resented losing Tiger. And why Colt, despite their estrangement, had called him during such a desperate time. Whereas Colt’s rage was on the surface, Tiger’s was deep, the hand on the trigger ready to pull, but only when it was time. Though Tiger had worked to distance himself from a life of violence, she saw plenty of evidence that the well had always been there if he chose to drink from it.
As long as he stayed with her, she would assume those skills could be put to good use. She didn’t know what she’d do to stop him if he decided to join Colt for a potential blood bath, but using a stun gun that could take down an elephant was an option.
Neil had Skye put up a map on her largest monitor of the area around the tracker. “What are the chances they left her therealive, deep enough they knew the swamp would take care of her? Cleaner, less forensics.”
Lawrence and Neil had been doing their own assessment of Tiger’s ability to hold it together. Since Neil didn’t waste time softening his question, he must have reached the same conclusion as Skye, though she expected Tiger felt the same clench in his gut she did as he asked it.
“If this is the group associated with the Mexican cartel, we’re looking at two scenarios. Best case is the one you just pointed out. It was a scare tactic, showing Colt how easy it is to grab his family. They dumped her because the mission was accomplished. If she dies in the bayou—” Tiger’s voice hitched briefly, but he continued, “that would be a stronger message than they intended, but they won’t lose much sleep over it.”
He didn’t say the worst-case scenario aloud and Neil didn’t ask for it. They could all see the tracker hadn’t moved, not since Skye had called it up at Progeny.
Neil pointed to an area about a mile from the dot. “We could take a boat, but we’d be further away, slowed down by the limitations of getting the boat through that area at night. There’s a good access point here, a park. No barriers to entry. We go in on foot. I have night vision goggles to help with visibility and keep us from telegraphing our presence to anyone waiting for us. That storm moving in is going to be over that area by the time we get there.”
Neil glanced at Tiger. “Take the Mustang and we’ll follow you. The bike won’t give you any advantage in the storm.”
“We can get my truck. The garage is on the way, and she can drop me off there.” Tiger shifted his gaze to Skye. “Show me how to use the drone, and put what I need on my phone.”
She shook her head. Typed, using her Southern female voice. “We can take the truck if you prefer it, but I’m going with you. My drone has night vision and is waterproof, but stormconditions will be tricky. You’ll need an experienced operator. Once the storm hits, the tracker signal might get spotty. I have a better chance of holding onto it.”
