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She’s just gone.
I have no fucking clue how she slipped out of here without Antonio noticing, and after I beat him within an inch of his life without him giving me anything useful, I don’t think he knows either.
Storm has been barking orders over the phone since we left the estate together. Everett and Rayne weren’t far behind. And then when Elijah fucking Russo walked through the door, I thought I might actually kill them all. All four fucking musketeers are here, and none of them are being very useful.
Snow hands me a glass of water, which I stare at with disgust. What the hell am I meant to do with water right now?
“Please drink it,” she says softly, her blonde hair pulled into a messy knot on the top of her head. “You’ll be no good to her if you don’t take care of yourself.”
I snatch the glass from her hand and swallow down the contents in three gulps. Taking care of myself is the furthest thing from my mind right now, but she’s right. And hell, this isnone of our first rodeos. The number of times the women in this family have disappeared over the last two years should make us all fucking professionals at this point.
“Okay, I know where she is,” Everett says from the dining table where he has two computers set up in front of him. “They’ve just landed in Boston. They took the Hayes’ private jet.”
“Which is what we assumed,” I snap. Couldn’t he tell me something I didn’t know?
He glares across the room at me but doesn’t argue. “Ace and I have both been through all the footage between here and the airfield it appears they flew out of, and we’re both coming up empty-handed.”
“Which means someone either diverted the cameras or deleted the footage immediately after they passed,” Rayne says.
“Correct.” Everett nods. “Ace is running a program he’s got in beta testing, but he didn’t sound hopeful when I was speaking to him.”
Ace is Tommy’s foster brother, but this is the first time they’ve worked so openly together. At this point, I don’t give a fuck who we have to call in to help as long as we get Isla back.
“How are we going to track Edward and Bree? Any luck figuring out how long they’ve each been missing for and where they were last seen?” Storm asks.
“Not yet. Spade’s men are pretty good at covering their tracks, but if they’ve left a breadcrumb, I will uncover it,” he replies.
I drag my hands over my face. More than anything, I just don’t understand why Isla would do this. If she was worried about something she should have come to me, and the fact she didn’t just tells me we’re not where I thought we were in our marriage.
“I’ve called the airfield. They’re fueling the jet and we’ll be in the air in an hour,” Storm tells me as he looks around the room.“Everett, go home. Wynter and Summer need you, and you can run point from there.”
He grumbles because this is the second time he’s been sidelined since his daughter was born, and it’s obvious he’s not happy about it. But at least his woman is safe in their home.
“Elijah, take Snow home and keep an eye on things here. Although I doubt it, Spade has a lot of men in the city right now, and I don’t want to leave it unprotected if this is a ploy to get us all out of Chicago.”
Snow looks like she’s about to argue when her husband takes her hand and guides her toward the front door.
The couch dips and when I look up, Rayne has taken a seat beside me. “We’ll get her back, Doc.” But that’s not a promise he has any right making. Not when we don’t even know why she left.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
ISLA
Iwake with a thud, and when my eyes fly open, I see we’ve landed in Boston, but I don’t get any of the relief I thought I would the first time I came back.
It never occurred to me that with time, the place I’d lived my entire life would cease feeling like home.
There’s an SUV waiting for us on the tarmac, and Bryant quickly ushers me into it before I can change my mind about this plan. I can’t believe I’ve agreed to it, but people do stupid things for the people they love. Including using themselves as bait.
Kayden takes the driver’s seat, and we sit in silence as he navigates the streets of Boston. It takes me too long to realize we’re heading toward the club, and I look down at my black leggings and sweater, paired with a pair of slip-on sandals. I’m not exactly dressed to go clubbing.
“We have a dress for you in my office,” Bryant tells me.
“Who does it belong to?”
“One of the waitresses,” Kai says. “I messaged her before we left Chicago to go home and get it.”
I nod, my eyes drifting over the wet streets as they fly past. It seems fitting that we’d enact this plan while it’s raining, like an omen of what’s to come.
