Page 85 of Bulletproof Love

“Absolutely not.” Falin sits up and the kittens bolt from her sharp voice. “You both need to go. Please.”

Fuck. My chest tightens again. It’s pretty much been that way all day. Pent up adrenaline mixed with anxiety. Her tone isn’t helping the situation. It’s like she’s begging us to leave. I’ve heard Falin beg before, usually with my head between her thighs, but this is different. Desperate.

I finally relent, kissing her goodbye, and leaving her with a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. “Call me if you need anything,” I tell her. She waves me off, assuring me she’ll be fine, she just needs rest.

Leon hops on his bike, and Damon, Blake, and I pile into Damon’s car. My leg won’t stop bouncing, my head swimming with alarm bells. We make it fifteen minutes before Damon shoots me a look, asking me what the hell was wrong.

“She’ll be fine,” he says, but I barely hear him over the roar in my head. “Ray’s probably already there. This will go smoothly, I can feel it.”

Blake pokes her head through the middle console. “Falin’s tough, she’ll be okay. I’m sure she’s super bummed to miss out on tonight.”

That’s just the thing.

At the next red light, I make a snap decision. “Pull over. Drop me off here.”

“What? Why?” Damon asks.

“Something’s not right. I need to check on her.”

He starts to argue, but I open my door before he gets the chance to pull over. I don’t have time for this. “Goddamn, brother.” The light turns green, but before he hits the gas, he yells out the window. “Be careful. Text if you need us.”

I pull out my phone and hit call on Falin’s name. The line rings and rings before her voicemail picks up. I try again and leave her a message.

“I’m heading back home. Be pissed at me if you want, but I don’t want you there alone.”

I sprint all the way back, my pounding heart louder than my rushing thoughts. The apartment is dark when I get there. Empty.

“Fuck!” I knew something was off. After checking her bedroom for a note, or any sign of a struggle, I call Leon. He answers on his helmet’s bluetooth. “I need you to track Falin’s phone.”

“What? Why?” he asks.

“Don’t ask questions… please. Just do it.”

He must hear the desperation in my voice because the noise from his engine dies down. “I pulled off the road. What’s going on?”

“Where is she?”

He sighs, but doesn’t ask any more questions. It takes a few seconds where I pace the length of the apartment, grabbing another gun from my dresser drawer and tucking it into my waistband. “She’s in midtown. Looks like an office building, a high-rise. Sending the address now.”

A chill rushes through me. “Something is wrong.”

The text comes through and I’m already running. “Jasper, wait for us. I’m turning around now.”

“No, you go on ahead. If I need you, I’ll call you.”

There’s no time. I have to get to her. If she’s hurt, I’ll never fucking forgive myself.

* * *

The security deskis empty when I push through the glass door into the lobby. I glance at the elevator, but decide against it. There isn’t time. I have no idea where she is in this massive building, but I won’t find her in this lobby.

I head for the stairs, taking them two at a time until I hear footsteps above me. Pressing my frame against the wall, I draw my weapon, forcing my heavy breaths to slow. My phone vibrates and the sound is amplified in the massive stairwell. I don’t have a chance to check who it is, or to quiet the damn thing. Whoever’s above me knows I’m here. I take a step, craning my neck to see what I’m dealing with. It could be Falin, but my gut tells me it’s not her.

“Stop right there,” a man’s deep voice echoes. I spot him, a big guy. Something about him looks familiar. He’s aiming a gun down at me from two flights up.

“I don’t have beef with you,” I say. “I’m just trying to find my girl.” I keep my gun drawn, but take a better look at him. For a guy aiming a gun, his posture seems pretty slouchy. Is his hand shaking? It’s hard to tell from this far away. “Where is she?”

He’s quiet at first, clearly weighing his options. When he finally opens his mouth, the words come out slow. “Just leave.” There’s no force behind what he says, nothing menacing in his tone. “Please. I don’t want to kill anyone else.”

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