Page 49 of Unguarded

His eyes shift around us, peering into the hall before scanning the suite. “I have no idea! They were unpacking, and I went to take a shower. I wasn’t in my room long, but when I came back out, they were both gone! I didn’t hear a sound!”

Shoving him again until his back is against the wall, I roar, “You’d better pray she’s okay,bitch.It’s on you if one fucking hair on her head is harmed.”

I spin around, marching toward the door. My hand trembles as I reach for the nine millimeter strapped to my hip to make sure it’s still there.

“Call Ember again. Don’t stop calling her till she picks up.”

Rage rolls off my chest and shoulders as the elevator climbs down the twenty-seven floors at a glacial pace. My hands are tingling with the desire to strangle Danny.

“It’s going straight to voicemail. She read my message, so I know she has her phone.” Brooks’s mouth is set in a hard line.

“Can you track her location?”

He nods, tapping on the screen. “One sec.”

When we finally reach the ground floor, we jog through the lobby, stepping out into the rain on the cold street with no jackets. I don’t know which way to go. We’re in a strange city with no clues as to which way she was taken. I step back through the hotel entrance to speak to the doorman. Danny follows us, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“Excuse me, did you see two women leaving here in the last twenty minutes? One blonde, one with dark red hair.They were probably with two or three men. They might have gotten into a van or an SUV out front.”

My stomach churns at the suggestion and the implication.

The doorman frowns. “Ah, no,monsieur. I only see these women leave by themselves. Just, uh, ten minutes past?”

“So, you saw these women leaving alone ten minutes ago?” Brooks pulls up a photo of Ember and Monroe on his phone and shows it to the doorman.

He tilts his head, studying the photo. “Ah, I cannot be sure. I see so many patrons,monsieurs. I don’t remember these two. Is that Monroe Blue?”

I exhale, attempting to slow the nausea rising in my stomach.

She’s gone. Holy fuck, she’s gone.

Brooks nods. “Yes, it’s Monroe Blue. Did you see her? Alone or with companions?”

The man shrugs. “I do not remember seeing these women, no. I would have noticed a big celebrity.”

I nod, pushing through the exit before I start to question the man with more violence. “Did you get her location?”

Brooks steps out with me. “I have shit service, so it won’t load. Let’s walk a few blocks and see if it gets better.”

We stomp through the downpour, getting soaked through our long-sleeved shirts. I don’t register the chill as adrenaline pumps through me. Finally, Brooks’s phone picks up a few bars.

“Here she is! It says she’s just five blocks away.” He shows me the blinking blue dot on the digital map.

We take off at a sprint. The locals stare at us as we flyby, stomping through puddles of rain and dodging pedestrians. I don’t think, except to count the blocks as we bulldoze past them. Sweat mingles with the downpour, but I’m able to control my rapid breathing from years of Special Forces military training in high-stress situations.

She will be okay. I will save her. I won’t let anything happen to her, I chant to myself as we round the street corner.

Brooks grabs my arm as we reach the blue dot on the map. “Here! It’s here.”

We slow down to observe our surroundings. To the left of us appears to be a clothing boutique. Straight ahead is a historic cathedral. To the right, there’s a bakery, a bar, and a dry cleaner. The downpour makes it difficult to see around us. There are very few vehicles on the street, and none of them look suspicious or large enough to kidnap two women easily.

“Maybe they’re in an apartment over the businesses,” Brooks says.

Our eyes drift up to the intricately detailed window frames over the bakery and the bar.

Would someone really kidnap her and hold her only five blocks away?

“Let’s find the phone,” I tell him.

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