Page 41 of Single Mom for the Firemen

“How long is that going to take?”

He shrugs. “Could be a couple of hours?—”

“We don’t have that kind of time!” I protest. “We have to get moving now. Give me their number. I’m calling them.”

Jake knows better than to argue with me when I’m in this kind of mood. He pushes the phone over toward me, and I grab it and dial the number.

“Hey, Darrel,” I greet our contact on the other end of the line. “You get those photos we sent through earlier?”

“Yeah, I did,” he replies, sounding confused. “Is there something we need to know about?—”

“Might need your help yet, but we’re going to handle it for now,” I reply. “We just need to know who that guy is. You got anything on file for him?”

“I’m running the picture now,” he replies, and I can hear him tapping away at a keyboard. He hums to himself slightly as he goes through the files, and I grit my teeth. I just want to know what the fuck he has. I know I can’t blow up at him—we need this contact—but at the same time, if I could reach through the phone and slap the information out of him, I would.

“Shit, yes, we have something,” he replies, after what feels like an endless silence. “He’s one of the cartel members we’ve been watching—Lucas Holt.”

“What do you know about him?” I shoot back. “Where is he located?”

“Not much,” he mutters. “We have a couple of hotels he’s stayed at over the years, and a warehouse he did some work from?—”

“A warehouse?” I demand, my ears pricking up. “Where’s that?”

“It’s just outside of the forest, on the way into the city,” he replies. “I’ll send you the location.”

“Good.”

I hang up the phone, and a few seconds later, it buzzes with an address. Mason and Jake look to me, and I peer down at the new information.

“Here’s the warehouse he worked out of,” I tell them, my voice taut, as I push the phone across the table toward them. “Not too far from here. If we get moving, we can be there in an hour?—”

“We need to plan this,” Mason warns me, cutting me off before I can go any further.

I grit my teeth. I don’t know how much longer I can take this. Sitting around, waiting for everything to fall into place, when we don’t know what could be happening to them.

“We need to get out there,” I shoot back. “They could be…shit, they could already be?—”

“Don’t think like that,” Jake cuts in, stopping me as my mind spins off down a million different possibilities. “The cartel that took them, they want to make a point. They want to make sure everyone knows what happens if you speak out against them. That’s going to give us some time, while they plan what they’re going to do with them.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. I know he’s right, but the thought of them toying with Vanessa, toying with Callie, it makes me sick to my stomach. How could it not? That little girl, caught upin something so dark and so bleak…she doesn’t deserve this. Neither of them do.

“Then let’s get to it, now,” I reply, moving over toward the map and locating the spot where the warehouse is meant to be. “How do we approach? What’s the plan of action when we get there?”

“Let me get eyes on it,” Jake replies, moving in to the computer and pulling up the overhead maps we have of the area.

As I watch my brothers move into place, starting to piece all of this together, I know I should be relieved—I know this should soothe the panic that’s threatening to get the better of me.

But all I can think about is them. Vanessa. Callie. Out there, terrified, with no idea what’s going on or what’s going to happen to them.

For all that I might have said getting involved with them was going to be nothing more than a bit of fun for the summer, the way I feel right now is a fair warning that something deeper has started to bloom inside me—and I don’t know if I can stop it.

Nor do I know if I want to. Because those two, the way they’ve changed things around here—there’s not a chance in hell that I’m going to let that slip through my fingers.

No matter what it takes. And no matter what it costs from us.

21

VANESSA

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