Page 38 of Ethan's Command

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, the fierce determination in her gaze matched his own. “Neither will I,” she whispered.

Ethan straightened, his focus shifting back to the task at hand. “Alright, let’s move. We’ll regroup later and share whatever we find.”

Nova nodded. “I’ll be in touch. If anything turns up with the phone, I’ll let you know immediately.”

Cooper gave a sharp nod before heading back to his SUV, Whiskey’s lead still in hand. Mojo gave a low whine, as if sensing the tension, but a quick command from Ethan had him obediently hopping into the backseat.

Brooklyn closed the door of the truck. Ethan slid behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life, and then he backed out of the parking space. The silence between them was thick, Brooklyn’s unspoken fears, and his, hung heavy in the air.

As they drove toward Harry’s house, Ethan glanced at Brooklyn. She was staring out the window, her fingers tracing aimless patterns on the edge of her seat.

“Do you really think Harry is involved?” she asked.

“It’s my job to think everyone is involved,” he replied. He didn’t want to scare her, but he also wasn’t going to lie to her. “If Harry is involved then he’s our next lead. Make no mistake, I will find out everything he knows.”

Brooklyn shivered but remained silent.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, breaking the quiet.

She hesitated, then shook her head. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “But I can’t let that stop me. Liam needs all the help he can get.” Her thoughts flicked to Jackson. She was going to have to call him soon and tell him the awful news. He would be devastated. She wanted to wait until she had more information,something positive to tell him. Or at least that’s what she was telling herself. Really, she just didn’t want to tell her brother she’d lost the light of his life.

Ethan’s grip on the wheel tightened. “We’re going to find him,” he said again, his voice firm. “And whoever took him is going to regret it.” He meant every word of it. Every. Single. One.

Harry’s house was a modest single-story home on a quiet street. The front yard was tidy, the grass neatly trimmed. Ethan parked the truck at the curb and stepped out. Mojo hopped down beside him, both of them watching for any sign of movement inside. Brooklyn followed, her eyes scanning the property nervously. The place looked deserted.

Ethan knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the stillness. Brooklyn spoke up. “Harry? It’s Brooklyn Alexander. Can we chat for a minute?”

There was no response. Mojo’s ears perked up, his body tense as he sniffed and quietly growled. Ethan’s instincts flared.

“Stay here,” he told Brooklyn, his voice low. He gestured for Mojo to follow as he moved to the side of the house, checking the windows. Everything appeared normal until he reached the back door. It was ajar, swinging slightly in the breeze.

Ethan’s stomach sank. He glanced at Mojo, whose fur bristled as he stood at alert. Drawing his weapon, Ethan pushed the door open and stepped inside. The house was ominously silent.

“Harry?” he called out, his voice firm but cautious.

Mojo moved ahead, his nose to the ground as he sniffed for any trace of Harry. They moved through the house methodically, checking each room. The living room was untouched, the TV remote resting neatly on the arm of the couch. The kitchen showed no signs of disturbance. But when they reached the bedroom, Ethan froze.

Harry lay sprawled on the floor. A dark bruise marred his temple, and a small trickle of blood had dried on his forehead. He was pale but breathing. Mojo sniffed him, whining softly as he looked back at Ethan.

“Dammit,” Ethan muttered, crouching beside the older man. He pressed two fingers to Harry’s neck, finding a pulse but just barely. “Harry? Can you hear me?”

The man stirred slightly, a low groan escaping his lips. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy. “Who are you?” he rasped.

“I’m a friend of Brooklyn Alexander’s,” Ethan said, relief washing over him. “What happened?”

“Brook…lyn?” Harry was having a hard time forming words. His pupils flared. “Oh no…Liam…okay?”

“They took him,” Ethan confirmed. “Tell me what you know?” There was a sound behind him. He whirled to find Brooklyn at the doorway. He wanted to curse but he said, “Call an ambulance.” Then he turned back to the man on the floor.

Harry’s eyes lost focus and started to close.

“Harry?” Ethan felt the man’s pulse again. Still there but weak.

Harry opened his eyes. “Someone… came…asked about… Liam. Said they…were family. I told…get lost…left my phone in the bedroom… was going for it when they—” He grimaced, his voice fading. “They… hit me.”

Ethan’s jaw clenched. “Did you see their faces?”

Harry “No… hoodies and ballcaps pulled low…Black SUV…Dark windows. Going to kill me but…dog next door…barking like crazy…they hit me again...” His voice faded out.

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