Page 65 of Always Been Mine

There was a muffled curse before Travis said, “What can I do?”

“I need you to scope out my neighborhood. The cops justgot here. Get them to back off. Find out more from witnesses if you can.” Gabe dictated his address as well as the intersection where Beatrice was nabbed. “See if you can gain access to traffic cams.”

“Porter should have it.”

“He’s been off the grid for almost two months. But I’m calling him next.”

“Gotcha. Anything else?”

“Hurry, Blake.”

“Will do.”

Gabe punched the admiral’s number. It went straight to voicemail.That son of a bitch. “Porter, you better be dead or dying. I couldn’t raise you for weeks. Your daughter almost died, and you couldn’t even fucking show up. Well, now they’ve taken her, you hear me? They’ve. Taken. Her. Got your attention yet, Admiral? Just”—Gabe didn’t know what else to say—“thought you should know.”

He put the phone away and looked over to Rhino, who was whining softly. “Hang in there, buddy. We’re almost there.” His dog did not survive an IED blast only to be cut down by a sorry-ass schmuck’s bullet.

He was innervated with rage so powerful he had to grip the steering wheel tightly to keep from punching the dashboard. His vision blurred, and the sound of cars got louder. He willed his heart rate and breathing to even out.

His woman. Taken.

His dog. Shot.

The past six months were a struggle to define his place in normal society. But maybe he shouldn’t fight who he really was, because that person from the past was the person needed to fight this unknown enemy.

The people who took Beatrice knew him, but they had forgotten what he could become.

A stone cold killer.

It was a waiting game.

Waiting for the emergency vet to tell him if Rhino would live or die.

Waiting for Travis to call him back with a clue to find Beatrice.

Waiting.

Gabe hated feeling helpless. He hated how things were out of his hands and out of his control.

He had been on the phone with Travis, desperate to join the search for Beatrice, but the need to know that Rhino was okay was his brain’s way of managing his emotions in order to get centered. Travis further set him straight. “Gabe you need to let us handle this. You are in no shape to do the investigation objectively. I'm not saying Nate and I are any better given our friendship with Bee, but you don't have your head on straight right now. Do you remember back with the SEALs, before we headed out on a mission, our minds needed to be clear? We needed to be square?”

“Yes,” Gabe bit off.

“Same rule applies here. You’re emotionally compromised. You need to get a grip on your shit, or you’re going to hinder rather than help find Beatrice. You have to back off. We got this.”

His attention returnedto the present when a female veterinarian dressed in blue scrubs opened the door to the reception area.

“Mr. Sullivan?” the vet addressed him. He had met her earlier when he brought Rhino in and his dog was admitted for immediate surgery.

“How is he?” His voice was gruff.

“He’s stable. You did good administering the first aid.”The vet’s voice and face were grim, belying the good news. “How did Rhino get shot?”

“I didn’t shoot him, if that’s what you’re implying,” Gabe responded. “That matter is under investigation. I don’t have any details.”

“Fair enough. I do need to report incidents of animal abuse.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you need to report,” Gabe snapped. “All I give a fuck about is my dog.”

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