Page 164 of Seeking Vengeance

“Well… that could’ve gone better,” Bishop mutters. “I’m sure he’ll call back.”

I slam my palm against the steering wheel. Over and over. Harder and harder.

That heartless prickwon’tcall back.

I sure as hell wouldn’t.

He doesn’t know me. Need me. Trust me.

Layla, where the fuck are you?

“Calm your shit, Langston. We’ll figure this out.” Bishop thumps my chest. “Either we find her and everything is apples. Or your brothers do, then De Marco will retrieve her before she gets to Emmanuel. Or fucking Torian will get his ass here and pick her up.”

Maybe.

Or maybe my brothers aren’t the men Abri thinks they are.

Maybe they’ll kill her on sight. Or hand her off to someone who will do it for them.

“Come on.” Bishop taps the dash. “Let’s get to the airport and check the parking lot for the Bentley.”

“And if it’s not there?”

“We hustle and figure out another fucking plan. You can call your snake of a sister and figure out a way to convince her to relay the last known location of her car.” He bangs his fist against the dash this time. “We’ve got options, Langston. But for now you need to fucking move.”

“Since when have you cared so much about Layla?” I pull back into traffic, breaking the speed limit with my acceleration.

“I don’t. Abri made a fool out of me back there. It’s pride I’m fighting for.”

Sure it is.

He gives a shit about Layla. At the very least, he gives a shit aboutmegiving a shit about her.

“Message our pilot.” I focus on the cars ahead. “Make sure we’re refueled and able to take flight at a moment’s notice.”

If Layla’s at Centennial, I’ll make sure we’re in the air within minutes. Willingly or not.

He does as requested, swiping at his device while mine begins to shudder against my chest, the incoming call reconnecting to Bluetooth.

Bishop glances my way. “Want me to talk this time?”

“If you open your mouth, I’ll fucking kill you.” I answer the call. “It took you long enough to wake up to yourself, Torian.”

“I suggest you check the tone and the attitude, you arrogant piece of shit.”

Not Torian.

Not a man at all.

The voice is female. Confident. Merciless.

“Forgive my assumption.” I frown at Bishop. “Who am I speaking to?”

“Keira. Layla’s sister. And I don’t have the patience to deal with self-serving motherfuckers right now, so shut up and listen.”

I raise a brow, grated by the attitude, yet fucking grateful for the contact.

“My sister told me she loved you,” she states simply.

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