Page 84 of Guarded from Treachery

“Matt.” Erik’s voice is low. Urgent.

I look at the little alert message on my phone. And the truth slams into me in a breath-stealing blow.

The signal isn’t from Isla’s earring. But it’s from Rhiannon’s ring.

Oh, fuck.

Why is Rhi signaling for help?

Why isn’t she coming out here?

Is Isla sick? Hurt? Is something wrong with the baby?

Erik closes in, his expression shadowed with worry. Still in that same low tone, he says, “She’s still in the building. And Isla’s tracker is showing her with Rhi.”

Fear pulses cold and heavy in my chest.

Something is terribly wrong.

“What’s happening?” Lydia asks, her voice pitching up. “What’s wrong?”

Erik glances at her. “Stay here.” A beat, and then, “Hide behind the counter and call the police. Don’t move unless we tell you to.”

My legs are tensing to run, to follow the instinctive need to get to Isla. To help her. Make sure—oh, please—she’s okay.

Never in my life has logic seemed less important. All I can hear is a silent voice shouting in my head,go, go, go.

I move towards the curtained doorway without thinking before Erik’s hand clamps down on my shoulder. “Wait,” he says quietly, but with a hint of command. “Don’t just run in there.”

“But Isla?—”

“We can’t go in unprepared. You know that.” His dark eyes burn into mine. “We need to treat this like an op. Make a plan. Don’t just rush in.”

Shit.

I know he’s right. And if there were any other situation, I’d be in total agreement. I’d be the one preaching calm and cool-minded strategy. But it’s the woman I love. The baby I’ve started thinking of as my own.

Shit.

Sucking in a steadying breath, I grit out through clenched teeth, “Okay. What do you want to do?”

Erik looks over at the doorway. “I’ll go in first. Just past the curtains. Depending on what I hear, we’ll decide from there.”

While I want to be the first one in, I understand why he wants to do it this way. If something is really wrong…

Fuck.

I can’t even think it.

“Got it,” I reply with a lift of my chin. Then I pull my Sig from its holster and hold it at the ready. At the same time, Erik follows suit.

Then he gives me a quick chin lift and angles his head towards the doorway. “Ready?”

“Ready.” My fingers tighten around the handle. My shoulders set. “Do it.”

At my response, he moves forward, pausing at the heavy curtains for a moment before pushing them aside and slipping past them. I pause just before the doorway and hold my breath. I cock my ear, listening.

Hoping.

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