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Security.
But, somehow, I knew.
Still, I had to confirm, even as the unease swirled through my system, knowing she might be stuck there with him right that moment.
“Chet? The bartender?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Fuck,” I hissed, turning and running.
“Yo,” Erion called as I got to my bike.
“What?” I barked.
“If you’re thinking she’s stuck with him, she’s not. Got that pretty freckled thing working with her tonight.”
I gave him a nod, silent thanks, but still threw on my helmet and peeled out of the lot, making my way toward town, toward the bar.
I felt my fucking guts twist into knots when I saw five figures standing outside of the bar.
There was no reason to assume it was the Murphy brothers. Customers could be loitering out front, smoking, bullshitting before they went home.
But I knew, damnit, I knew.
Something had gone horribly fucking wrong.
I could feel it in the way my lungs felt constricted, the way my heart was getting crushed by the same pressure.
I was barely even aware of cutting my engine and getting off my bike.
“Where is she?” I shouted as soon as I was on the sidewalk.
“How did…” Eoin, the youngest, started, only to be cut off by Cillian.
“She was taken, we think,” he clarified.
“What the fuck do you meanthink?” I growled. “You have cameras all over out here.”
“That stopped working mysteriously,” Conor, the one with the biggest temper, said, teeth gritted.
“Was he here?”
“Was who here?” Cillian asked.
“Chet. Was he in tonight?”
“Chet? No, why?” Cillian asked.
“Yes,” Sean said, making us all turn to face him. “Chet, he was here,” he said. “He came in to grab shit out of his locker.”
“He came in to fuck with your cameras. Erion Kadare confirmed that he’s been to Nyx’s place. And she’s never mentioned having him over.”
I watched as the information sank in, as the men who had worked with Chet for years tried to find proof in their experiences with him to back up my claims.
“That motherfucker,” Conor said, fists curling up.
“Where would he take her?” I asked. “Where does he live?”
