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A low thump sounded, and he pictured her struggling with her undergarments, getting her heel tangled in her dress and falling over. Flattening his hand on the door, he started to push it open.
Pain exploded through his skull. A roar escaped him, and he whirled, reaching for his weapon as a second hit rocked him sideways. He hit the floor hard, and his cheek bounced off the tile .
“Jace! Jace! What’s happening? Goddammit, I’m coming!” He hadn’t heard his little brother sound so frantic since the youngest of them, Jennings, jumped in the river and remembered too late that he couldn’t swim.
His mind spun. Shoving against the floor, he did a pushup, only to take a boot to the gut. The air whooshed from him. A fist connected with his jaw, twisting his head to the side just in time to see Bronte’s green dress trailing on the floor.
Terror electrified his veins. They were dragging her off. What did they do to her?
A bellow sounded from the opposite side, followed by the thunder of boots on the floor.
“Don’t move, Jace!” Jaren called right before he fired his weapon twice.
One of Jace’s attackers fell hard. The other let out a shrill scream before Jaren pumped another bullet into him and the sound cut off.
“They took her! Go! I’ll follow you!”
Jaren looked up. Jace did too and spotted a man and the server who’d entered the restroom looking sick dragging a boneless Bronte between them.
Jaren took off at a dead run. It took Jace longer to get up with the ringing in his ears and the world spinning, but he gripped his gun and started after them.
Voices blew up in his head as Jaren spouted instructions to the others to cut off the trio.
Jace put on speed. Where did this hallway even lead? At one end was an exit with the car they were meant to make a getaway in. The other branched into several areas.
Who was that woman dressed as a server?
The Broker had Bronte. He had to get her back.
He loved her.
Shouts echoed. Glass shattered. He pushed faster, only a few paces behind his brother. He skidded around a corner and came face-to-face with reality.
Through an open exit door, he watched two people toss Bronte into the back of a van. Tires squealed on asphalt and the red taillights blurred in his vision. Or maybe that was his fury painting everything red.
He shoved past Jaren and sprinted after the moving van. His chest burned with fear.
The van sped across the parking lot and onto the road.
More voices in his ear—someone spouting off the license plate number. An SUV tore across the lot and braked hard. A window rolled down, revealing Ross behind the wheel.
“Get in!” Ross shouted.
He lurched forward, gripped the door handle and threw himself into the passenger seat. The gun shook in his hand as he realized how bad he’d fucked up. He’d let down his guard…and they took her.
Oh god, please don’t let this be another incident like the congressman’s daughter.
A choked cry burst out of him.
Another door slammed. Noah’s hand came down on the back of the driver’s seat. “We’re in! Go!”
Jace rocked forward in his seat. His aching head hit his open palms and he let out a gritty groan.
“You okay, man? You bleeding?” Ross’s harsh tone broke through his haze of white-hot pain.
Yeah. My fucking heart is shattered.
“No,” he said miserably. “I fucked up. I lost her. Oh, god. We have to get her back!”
