Page 22 of Marked

Cole cast a gaze over his shoulder and watched Sophia pacing his living room with her phone pressed to her ear. Her free hand moved with animation and her voice stirred the air, but he couldn’t pick up what she was saying.

Detective Aldridge had done her part to attack Lionsgate. Hell, it was a shock she hadn’t been bought—like a lot of other cops on the force, from what he’d heard. But she was still jonesing to get him behind bars.

And damn, that kind of turned him on.

Shit. He needed help.

“Yeah, well, I told her I’d find her kid.”

Nash chortled. “How the hell you going to do that, bro?”

“With your help.” He shoved his hand in his pocket. “Aldridge is one of the few solid ones on the force. Am I right?”

“Yeah. I’ve heard there’s a lot of corruption on the inside. Wait, you think this could have something to do with Lionsgate?”

“I mean, she’s straight as a fucking line, been on the Lionsgate case from day one. She won’t disclose what she’s working on now, but I’ve got a feeling if someone wanted to threaten and distract the uniform after them, they’d go for her kid.”

Nash hummed. “You could be right. What do you need from me?”

“I want you to find out who’s running Lionsgate now.” There was no question that the vast and large arms of the organization were still operating, even with some of the leaders in jail and on trial for human trafficking.

“I’m gonna need some time.”

“We don’t have time. I’ll be working ’round the clock on this, and fuck...” He flicked his attention to the living room again. She was still on the phone. “The kid could be halfway to Mexico by now. If she gets out of the country, there’ll be no one who can find her.”

“’Kay. I’ll do what I can.” Nash disconnected, and Cole looked at the computer screen. An alert had popped up.

Match found.

***

Sophia ended her call with Bart and chewed her thumb, turning in a mindless circle in Cole’s living room. The ceilings soared easily twenty feet, swallowing her up in the massive space.

Keeping things pertaining to Bella’s case from Bart wasn’t something she’d been prepared for. He knew her too well, and her sudden disappearance from the search party had him firing questions like bullets from a machine gun.

Tomorrow she’d find a way to better explain what she was doing without freaking him out. “I’ve hired a wanted assassin to find Bella” wouldn’t cut it.

Cole traipsed into the room. His gait was slow yet determined, his jaw hard.

He’s found something.

Her stomach clenched, threatening to send up the coffee. It was the same sensation that had overcome her whenever someone in the search party blew a whistle—stark fear of evidence that her baby wouldn’t come home.

“What is it?” she demanded.

He motioned toward the bedroom. Without hesitation she followed him, this time keeping her eyes off the large bed that was made neater than hers. The thought of Tara’s legs wrapped around Cole’s body flashed into her mind, taunting her, but she forced it out. The young woman had every reason to swoon over a badass like Cole. Sophia, however, did not.

She locked up assholes like him.

He leaned over his computer and wiggled the mouse, bringing the screen to life. A black-and-white image filled the screen: Bella, a silent scream plaguing her little face, being stuffed into the back of a white van.

“Oh my God.” Sophia grabbed the edge of the chair and covered her mouth. Her breath came out in short, ragged gasps as she stared at the photograph of her daughter.

If there’d been any doubt Bella had been abducted, it was now indisputable. Despite the fact that she’d been missing for hours, seeing the image of a large man holding Bella brought reality crashing down—hard.

Her gasps turned into chokes. Air rushed out of her lungs at the same time as she tried to inhale, creating a strangling sound.

Cole’s hands were on her waist, ushering her to the chair and forcing her to sit. Her teeth chattered, and tears ran down her cheeks. Material settled over her shoulders and warm hands moved up and down her arms. A voice spoke somewhere in the background, but she couldn’t grasp a syllable.

---