Page 8 of Guarded from Danger

For Lucy, though? I don’t give a shit about getting in trouble. All that matters is finding her.

So where is she?

Jaw clenching, I stop by the window and take a few deep breaths of the warm spring air. It’s different from what I grew up with in Maine, when April was still on the cusp of winter. Here, itfeels like summer already, and I can only imagine what July and August will bring.

I’ve been planning to take Lucy to the coast over the summer, to this incredible rental house Dante and his girlfriend, Sarah, visited a few months ago. Her birthday is in July, so I thought it would be the perfect present. A week on the beach, seeing my gorgeous girlfriend in a bathing suit, spending evenings looking out at the water, having lots of sex…

Shit.

I can’t lose her.

Not the first woman I’ve ever truly cared about.

But why haven’t we found a clue yet? I was sure there’d be something on a traffic camera or a neighbor’s security footage. A doorbell camera that would spot a car leaving her house, or a person lurking around, or something…

Dammit.

I slam my hand on the windowsill, welcoming the flare of pain. The glass rattles, and just for a second, I consider putting my first through it. Letting my anger out instead of keeping it jammed up inside me.

But I don’t. When I find Lucy, I don’t want to explain a bandaged hand, and I don’t want to give her a reason to worry about me. To wonder if I’m too rough and impulsive to be with someone as gentle as her.

None of my friends would ever call me gentle or sensitive. I’m the guy who curses too much, who jokes and doesn’t take anything but his job seriously. For years, decades, even, I’ve kept my emotions under tight restraints. But with Lucy, it’s different. I want to be everything she needs.

Which I’m doing a pretty fucking terrible job at, considering she’s still out there, missing, and all the searching and interrogating and favors I’ve called in have done nothing.

Shit.

I start pacing again, wondering how long before I can reasonably call Matt for another update. He finally kicked me out of his office, saying that I needed to stop hovering and go get some sleep. I didn’t want to, but then I realized I was wasting Matt’s time by arguing, so I grudgingly came back to my apartment for a while.

When my phone buzzes with the signature Blade and Arrow ringtone, my heart lurches into my throat. My lungs seize.

It’s one of my teammates, and they wouldn’t be calling just to check in. Not considering I just saw them all at our strategy meeting a few hours ago. There has to be news.

I jog over to the coffee table and snatch up my phone, but my finger hesitates before tapping to answer.

Right now, I can still believe Lucy’s alive.

What if this call…

No. I’ve faced off against insurgents, ten to one. I’ve completed missions when the odds were stacked against us. And once, I jumped from a second-story building as it was exploding behind me. If I could do that, I can answer a call.

Before I get a chance to speak, I hear Dante’s voice, brisk and commanding. “Matt found something. Get to the conference room. Now.”

Through a narrowing throat, I ask, “Is she alive?”

“Yes.” Dante exhales. “She is. Now get over here. I’m not telling you on the phone.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice. And I’ve never been more glad to live in the same building as I work, a renovated ranch that not only serves as the Blade and Arrow headquarters, but also includes apartments for each of us.

So it takes me less than a minute to sprint down the hallway and into the conference room, grabbing the door jamb as I round the corner, slingshotting myself inside.

Matt and Dante are at the end of the conference table, Matt sitting, and Dante standing behind him. They’re both staring at Matt’s laptop, their expressions grim.

“Where is she?” I blurt as I jog over to them. “Is she hurt? How soon?—”

“Wait.” Dante puts his hand up to stop me. “Let Matt explain, first.”

Anger surges through me, and I snap, “I’m not fucking waiting. Where is she?”

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