Page 42 of We're Not Strangers Anymore

“Hey it’s Laila.”

“You’re not calling from your phone, right?”

“No, Grayson just tell me what the fuckin’ plan is.”

“Listen,” I start, lowering my voice. “They took Rowan and I think Austin is in on it. You need to meet me at the hangar and we’re going to get him on the phone and try to figure out where he’s at.”

I hear Laila talking to my mom in the background, filling her in. “They have Rowan? Is she alive?”

“Yes but we need to move quickly. The more time passes the less likely we’ll be able to find her. Start heading over there, I’ll be there in twenty.”

I hang up the phone then dial my friend, Jack’s number. Jack is an air traffic controller for the Air Force. He’ll be able to locate any non-commercial planes flying in the area which will help me find out where they’re taking her if they’ve gotten that far yet.

I pull up to the hangar, my tires screeching as I come to an abrupt stop. As I step out of the car, I see my mother standing with her arms crossed, her usually composed face marked with worry. Laila’s dark hair and sharp features mirror my own as she stares at me with tension in her eyes.

I stride over to them, my mind racing. “I have a plan.”

“How solid?” My mom asks immediately.

“Solid enough. I have a friend in air traffic control, he’s going to keep an eye out for any non-commercial flights in this area and the surrounding area. I picked up a couple burners for us to use until things are straightened out.”

My mother narrows her eyes as she always does before questioning my plans. “You trust this friend?”

“I don’t trust anyone right now, Ma, but he’s my only option.” I tell her. “In the meantime, I’m going to call Austin. He still thinks I don’t know anything, so I’m going to get him to meet with one of my allies and they’re going to get him to a bunker in Indiana.”

“How do you know he’s not going to have the cartel protecting him?” Laila cuts in.

“I don’t but he’s going to think he’s meeting with me and he’ll actually be meeting with the Hellfire MC so if he has protection, they’ll be unprepared.”

“So, what are we doing right now?” Laila asks,

“You two are going to be flying to France and staying at my penthouse in Lyon. I’m staying here until I get a lead on where Rowan might be,” I inform them. “I already put my burner number in both of your new cells so keep in touch once you get there and don’t talk about your location.”

Now it’s time to start my search. Conejo’s men are in uncharted territory, they don’t know Sicily like I do.

Grayson

“Did you locate their jet?” I ask Jack over the phone.

“No, but Ididmanage to keep tabs on crash reports in the area. I found one involving a black Escalade. Considering these guys have never driven in Italy, it’s a possibility that this is your guy.” The driver’s side on the cars in Italy are on the left side, I know it took Luciano and I time to get used to it and we’re pros at getaway driving.

“Get me the license plate number.” I tell him.

“No can do. I don’t have access to that but I can give you the location.”

“Send it over.” I say, hanging up.

If this crash report is a dead end, it’s more time wasted. I need to find Rowan before they leave Italy.

Jack:Check local hospitals. Could have been a bad accident.

He’s a fucking genius. I’m lucky to still have a few good ones in my corner.

My plan with Austin meeting somewhere fell through– claims he left Chicago for safety reasons so I have the MC staking out all of his regular spots in the city. I haven’t slept in twelve hours and I won’t sleep until I find Rowan. I hate myself for not following her to the car, for leaving her at the house by herself in Chicago. I fucking hate myself for not earning her trust the way I should have. I feel tears pricking my eyes but swallow them down. My anger is stronger right now, I can’t be weak. I speed up as I get closer to the crash site. The area is surrounded with first responders and I bring the car to a screeching halt just before the scene.

“Excuse me, I need the name of every individual involved in this accident.” I say in Italian to the tow truck driver as I flash a fake law enforcement badge.

“Fammi prendere i miei documenti.” He responds, circling to the passenger side of his truck.

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