Page 20 of Good Girl and Grinches

And everything about this is off.

My knuckles whiten on the steering wheel as I take a corner too fast. In my peripheral vision, I see Flame brace himself against the door.

He doesn’t complain. Nor does Ruckus who I tossed around in the back seat. They know it too.

Something is very wrong.

I whip around the corner making the final turn to the pottery studio, tires squealing. Sabrina’s blue Civic sits alone, a couple of shops down from the studio. It’s the only car left on the street.

I slam on the brakes, the truck skidding to a halt beside her car. The emptiness of the street amplifies the danger.

My hands shake as I cut the engine. A familiar weight tightens my chest, the one I felt when I watched the civilians die in the fire. I failed them. Just like I’ve failed her.

The streetlights provide pockets of light. Nothing appears disturbed. That makes it worse. She wouldn’t leave her car here without telling us she changed plans.

Memories flash through my mind—her warm body against mine at the club, the way she trusted me completely. The way I promised myself I’d protect her. My jaw clenches so hard it aches.

“Ghost.” Ruckus’ voice cuts through my spiral. “We’ll find her.”

I force myself to breathe, to think like the soldier I was trained to be. Harness my investigative skills. Push down the rage, the fear, the guilt. I can’t dwell on the fact that she’s in trouble because of us. But my hands won’t stop shaking. All I can think about is how I didn’t let her see all of me. How small and vulnerable she felt in my arms. How I might have put a baby in her.

“Ty.” The name tastes like ash in my mouth. “He said it wasn’t over.”

The pieces click together. Should have known he wouldn’t walk away, especially after it appears that he set the out-of-town fires. Now she’s out there somewhere, probably terrified, while I’m standing by her empty car.

The tightness in my chest threatens to crush me. I can’t afford to break down, not now. Not when she needs me. Us. I straighten my spine, let the cold clarity of training take over. We have a mission. Find Sabrina. Everything else has to wait.

“Could be with friends,” Flame says, but his voice is tight.

“Car trouble?” Ruckus suggests as we circle her car and scan the surrounding area, searching for any possible clue.

The glint of something on the concrete catches my eye. My blood turns to ice. Sabrina’s lip-gloss tube lies in a crack in the sidewalk, the cap missing. She keeps that thing closer than her phone.

“Fuck.” The word tears from my throat.

Ruckus already has his phone out. From what I can hear, he’s called a local security team and is having them look up anything they can on Ty. We’ll add it to what we already know.

My hands shake as I crouch by the lip gloss. The bastard has her. He’s had this planned, watching, waiting.

Flame’s scrolling through his phone. “We have three addresses for Ty. That place outside city limits—the one that took forever to track down? Has to be it. Remote enough, no neighbors.”

“Agreed.” Ruckus nods sharply.

Using the lights on our phones, we check the area for another minute before returning to the truck. Good thing is that there are no signs of blood.

I bang my fist on the toolbox that’s in the bed. “We’ve got our axes. If he doesn’t let us in, we’ll tear the fucking place down.”

The engine roars as I floor it.

Flame says, “Hold on, Babygirl. We’re coming.”

Thirteen

Sabrina

The gravel crunching beneath the van’s tires becomes a thing of the past when Ty turns onto what I don’t even think qualifies as a road. My security is stripped away with each branch that scrapes the vehicle’s sides.

Darkness, trees, and snow surround us. No houses dotting the landscape. Just a hope that the snow will capture tire tracks. But we haven’t passed another car in a while. Does this place even show up as an address?

---