Page 176 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

I turn to Ash, his words repeating in my head. “What you on about?”

“Your heavy breathing, mate. I can hear your ire through your breathing. You gave up smoking cold turkey. You need something else to relax those nerves.”

“Leave my nerves alone, you weirdo!”

He chuckles and goes back to scrolling on his phone.

After learning it had been tampered with, I tossed my metal box in the hospital trash. I have no fucking clue how anyone could have access to my tobacco, either in the box or extra stash in my room at home. It’s a mystery, but that event seriously got me thinking about things. So a few days ago, I gave up smoking, and Asher only found out after we dropped off Storm at the dog hotel earlier and asked why I hadn’t lit up a fag with all the stress surrounding us.

Maybe Ash is right. I need a new hobby. Smoking sage and fruit tobacco became my only vice when I went clean years ago. Now I’m itching to have something between my fingers and in my mouth to replace my old habit.

Eden’s nipples come to mind. How I wouldn’t give to have one between my fingers right now and my tongue going to town with it.

When we get her back, I plan to spend an extraordinary time between her breasts. Yeah, that should solve my addition to fags.

And Ash doesn’t flippin’ miss the smile that plays up on my face.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know.” The bloody bugger has eyes on the side of his head.

Must be all that Buddist philosophy he follows.

Suddenly my phone buzzes an alert, as does Asher’s mobile.

I take a look at it.

“What is this?” I ask, looking at the app and a map. “It must be a virus. Don’t click on the link.”

“No, you plonker,” Ash says, seemingly excited. “It’s the app Rick asked us to install on our mobiles. He gave Eden an alert device so if she’s ever separated from him, it alerts him that she’s in trouble and her exact location. She must have it with her and triggered it.”

His phone rings, and I see it’s Jagger; he answers it on speaker mode.

“Did you get the alert from Eden’s device?” Jagger asks, his voice rushed as if he’s on the move.

“Yes, I assume we all did.”

“We found nothing in the flat and are on our way down. Eden’s location is in the middle of nowhere.”

“On the border of Utah and Arizona. Fuckin’ ell,” I say, reading the tracking alert on my phone app. “How the fuck do we get there?”

“Should we alert the feds?”

“That agent, maybe they can get the local law enforcement over there to act.”

“No,” my brother says firmly, joining in on Jagger’s phone. “There’s a big chance someone in the law enforcement is working with the kidnapper. He might kill her if he somehow gets word that Eden has a tracker and she’s released the alarm.”

“He may have already found it on her.”

I doubt I’m not the only one who felt that shiver go down their spine.

“We need to get to her first before anyone else does. Law enforcement will only attract attention to themselves with all their official lights and sirens. We need to act like the kidnapper, swift and sly.”

“We not fucking trained you, maggot,” I yell at my brother. “You heard Eden. This arsehole is obviously experienced, powerful, and has an entire army of masked men.”

“I am,” Jagger interjects. “Haze is somewhat right. If something goes wrong, it’s on us, but if something goes wrong with the feds, then the guilt of never trying it our way will live with us forever. Only a helicopter can land safely in those parts. It’s about an hour and a half away with one. I’m going to see if the security company can assist us with this. We'll inform the feds when we’re nearer and can properly assess the situation.”

I have to trust Jagger. He’s been on more rescue missions than any of us. Fuckin’ell, none of us except him has, and he’s done it for the British Army, so I have to believe he knows what the hellhe’s doing.

“Let's go get our woman back!”

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