Page 36 of The Scout

Noah’s expression darkened. “Because we thought it was a delay. A miscommunication. His work takes him off-grid sometimes, you know that. But I had someone check the traffic cams.” He hesitated. “There’s no record of his car ever leaving Charleston.”

A muscle jumped in my jaw. My pulse was steady, but something else was clawing beneath my ribs—something I didn’t want to name.

Will wasn’t just late. He was gone. And if he was gone, that meant one of two things. Either he had chosen to disappear. Or someone had taken him.

The second thought sent a slow, burning rage through my veins.

I forced my hands to relax, turning toward my desk. “Who have we got tracking him?”

Noah didn’t hesitate. “I put Atlas on it as soon as we confirmed he missed the flight. He’s running everything now—phones, bank records, surveillance. If Will so much as blinks in the wrong direction, we’ll know.”

It wasn’t enough.

“We need more,” I said. “Full lockdown. I want eyes on every contact Will made in the last seventy-two hours. His last calls, his last texts, every damn footprint he left before he vanished.” I met Noah’s gaze, steady and unyielding. “Find him.”

Noah nodded, already reaching for his phone. “On it.”

He turned to go, but I wasn’t finished.

“And Noah?”

He glanced back.

“I need to tell Isabel.”

A flicker of something crossed his face. Pity, maybe. Or something close to it.

I didn’t need his fucking sympathy.

But I did need to figure out how the hell I was supposed to tell Isabel that her brother was missing.

And I had a feeling I was about to break the one promise I never should have made.

13

ISABEL

It was after midnight, but the party was just getting started.

I hadn’t planned on ending up at The Sound Barn, but maybe I had been looking for a reason to let loose, to forget the tangled mess of emotions Ryker had left in his wake.

Sasha had insisted I needed a night out, something to shake off the tension that had settled into my bones ever since I walked out of Dominion Hall. Ryker had been busy when I left. I doubt he’d noticed I was gone.

Sasha was probably right. I probably needed the heavy bass vibrating through the floorboards, the neon lights casting electric shadows over the crowd, the press of bodies moving in sync with the music. I probably needed the feeling of someone—anyone—watching me with something other than scrutiny, something light and easy.

The Citadel guys that had shown up had been an afterthought. Harmless flirtation. Just another piece ofthe distraction I was desperately reaching for. After all, they were everywhere in this town.

The one dancing with me—tall, broad, too preppy to hold my attention for long—had slid his hands onto my hips, his breath warm against my ear as he murmured something I didn’t quite catch. I laughed anyway, tilting my head back, letting the music drown out everything else. For a moment, it almost worked.

Until I felt it.

A slow, creeping awareness, like heat licking up my spine. My body knew before my mind did, a sharp, instinctual pull that told me I was no longer just another girl in a club.

I was being watched.

Not in the way my dance partner was watching me, not like the other men in the room whose gazes skimmed over my curves with casual interest. This was different—heavier, unrelenting, like a claim being stamped into my skin. I was beginning to recognize the feeling.

I turned slowly, heart hammering against my ribs, my gaze searching the balcony above the dance floor.

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