Page 55 of Defending What's Mine

“Sending. And Hawke?”

“Yeah.”

“Bring her back breathing.”

“Obviously.”

“I’ll call for back up with the BRAVO team. I’ve got a few men out your way.”

“Appreciate it.”

The maintenance wing smells of damp linen and diesel exhaust. Staff carts line the cinder-block walls. The signal arrow on my phone swings left toward the loading dock.

I slow, scanning. There’s no guests here, just a housekeeping attendant pushing a cart into an elevator. Beyond, a sun-bleached exit door bangs shut with fresh scuff marks on the paint.

Outside, heat blisters off asphalt. And there, under a hedge, there’s one teal flip-flop.Fuck.

My pulse rockets. I pick up the flip-flop, my eyes scanning the area. Fifteen feet farther, there’s peel-out marks.

I snap photos, and switch to video. “Dean, van impressions here. Need gate feed minute-by-minute.”

He taps. “A black panel van exited the east gate at 12:31, then speeds off eastbound. The plate’s obscured.”

Rage sparks, cold and bright. This can’t be happening. “Wade.”

“Quite possibly,” Dean agrees.

“Alert county. I’m moving.”

I pivot, and nearly crash into Melanie. She stands there, breath hitching, face drained of color.

“How did you—?” I start.

“I followed you,” she whispers. “Forgot my phone charger.” Tears brim. “Asher, I lied. Charlotte left her towel and said she was going to meet you. I only told you she went with her mother because… because someone texted me.” She extends her phone, thumb trembling.

On screen: unknown number, 12:25 p.m.

“Tell the bodyguard Charlotte went shopping with her mom. Keep him busy for twenty minutes and you get your dirt back.”

Attached there’s screenshots of Melanie’s private photos, DM chat logs that would shred her influencer image.

“Who is this?” I growl.

“I don’t know, uhh… it came from a blocked number. I panicked.”

Blackmail to create a delay. Damn.

I soften a fraction. “It’s done. You’re safe now. Get to hotel security and stay put.”

She nods, tears tracking mascara. “Bring her home.”

“Count on it.”

She flees, and I head the opposite direction, toward the parking structure where my tactical kit waits.

24

Charlotte

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