Page 63 of Savage Promises

What if Neve doesn’t show up to get married? Thisentire arrangement will collapse. Then what? I don’t even want to consider it.

Dorian puts down his phone and shakes his head. “I can’t reach Lars.”

“Is it normal for a guard to not pick up?”

Dorian shrugs.

“Should we call Shane orhisguard?” I ask.

“Um...” Dorian pulls at his collar.

I get how these guys look out for each other. Dorian doesn’t want to get Lars in trouble.

Neve is either still in school or at home. Where the hell else can she be?

Maybe...with Shane? At his house. My heart rate soars as I call my sister again.

This time, I leave a message. “Neve,” I say in a stern voice. “Call me back, or so help me God.”

A minute later my phone rings, and I grab it, swiping the call without checking the ID. “Hello? Neve?”

“Miss Donnelly?” a strange male voice gives me chills.

“This is Lennox. Who’s this? Where is my sister?”

On the other end, the caller says, “Lennox, this is Charles Gallagher, the broker for your business loan?”

Bastard. I’ve been leaving messages with Gallagher’s assistant for days.Nowhe calls me. I don’t care about my loan this very second. I want to know where the hell my sister is. “I’m in the middle of something, can we—”

“I regret to inform you that all your loans came back denied,” he says grimly.

“All of them?” I clutch my throat. “Even the high-interest ones we talked about?”

“Those as well. Your proposed income simply isn’t enough security for the insurance company to guarantee a loan of that size. I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” I say, my voice cracking. “Thank you anyway.”

“I’ll send you a bill for my fee.”

Sure... I’m sunk, but he still gets paid. “Fine.”

I have bigger problems right now. I end the call and stare out the window. Buildings and cars pass by in a blur as we zip through the city streets. The fragile threads holding everything together are unraveling me.

I have to find my sister. I can’t letthatfall apart. But as the silence stretches on, I can’t shake the gnawing fear that it already has.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Shane

My tinted bulletproof window of the Sentinel crackles faintly from the early February cold as I lower it. The private investigator I’ve known forever leans against the rear quarter panel, his lips set in a grim slash. These guys have seen it all.

Like my brothers and me when we did investigations, collections, and hits for the O’Rourkes. It’s hard to get a rise out of PIs. Or surprise them.

But the envelope in his hand brings a look of concern to his face. “You sure you want this?”

“One hundred percent.” I take it from him and slide the contents out, my gut tightening even before I see the images.

A series of glossy photos fall into my lap. Neve, naked in bed with her volleyball coach doesn’t exactly surprise me. But Christ, the bastard coach is at least twenty years her senior. And what balls on him, fucking amob boss’sfiancée.

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