Page 39 of Hunted Innocence

“Touché.”

Shifting my attention back to the purse, I do something that I know I’m not supposed to. I may not know much about women, but I do know that I’m not supposed to be in their purses. Except. This is my woman’s purse, and I can only hope there is a clue somewhere in here as to where the fuck she’s been taken.

So I empty out Nadine’s bag onto the cot, my eyes taking in the contents. “You know, I think what you just did is illegal,” Orion grunts next to me.

Turning my head, I look over to him. “I think you’re right.”

Finding her wallet, I start looking through it, trying to find anything and everything at once. I know that thumb drive is somewhere, and I don’t know Orion enough to know if I can trust him, but I need that device.

I don’t find it.

At least not in her wallet, although she told me that’s where it was. Then something crosses my mind—the lining of her purse. Picking the empty purse up, I slide my hand along the inside until my fingers touch something hard.

This is it. Ripping the inside, I take out the drive. “The fuck is that?” Orion barks.

“This is what Tate wants,” I say.

He snorts, then takes a step backward. “I don’t know what the fuck that thing is for, but if Tate wants it, I’m glad you have it and not him.”

Well then. I guess he’s not worried about the thumb drive. Tucking the drive into the pocket of my jacket, I take a step back, then notice the phone, and then there’s another phone. Nadine has a burner.

Grabbing both of them, I try to unlock one, but it’s facial recognition only. The other one is the burner. It’s not even a touchscreen. It’s an old-school phone with buttons and everything. I almost laugh at the sight of it.

Finding the call list, I scroll through it, and there are only two incoming calls and one outgoing.

Unknown and Brody for incoming and Brody for outgoing.

This is her connection to her brother, but who the fuck is Unknown? And as I look at the call log, really let it soak in, I notice that the Unknown is new—very new.

Too new.

“Who called her?” I ask.

I’m sure I ask myself, but Orion clears his throat. “No fucking clue,” he says.

Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at him. “I need to get these phones to my guys. Maybe they can find something.”

I walk out of the room, stop at the doorway, and look back at the scene. I don’t have a good feeling about any of this shit. Not a single fucking part of it. I don’t think Landon Tate did this, either, which concerns me even more.

“You still haven’t heard from Brody, have you?” I ask.

“Not a single fucking word. Not even a text.”

“Shit,” I hiss. “None of this shit is good.”

“No,” Orion grinds out. “I’m getting that feeling that something really fucking bad is happening here.”

NADINE

My parents look backat me before they shift their attention toward the windshield and drive. I don’t pay attention to where they’re going. I can’t. I’m too flabbergasted. My flabbers are completely and totally gasted. They don’t look the same way they did when I saw them last.

They look worse.

If my mother walked past me on the street, I wouldn’t recognize her. She’s so gaunt, and her hair appears brittle. Herhair was always her best asset. Even when she was deep into her addiction and had no money for the salon, my mother always did at-home deep conditioning treatments and touched up her roots. Now her hair is dry and dark brown with thick strips of gray. I can’t believe it’s truly her.

My father doesn’t look much better. He was always handsome, and Brody favors the man I remember so much. He was strong and tall, wide-shouldered and narrow-waisted. But he looks like a skeleton—like his body is barely holding on.

“Where are you taking me?” I chance asking them.

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