“Where the fuck is she?” My hand clamps down on his arm—hard.
He stares at me, confused. “Relax. She went to the car for a charger. She’s fine.”
“How long?” I barely recognize my own voice.
Yanking his arm free, he shrugs. “I don’t know—five minutes?”
FIVE FUCKING MINUTES?
I don’t wait.
The second he says it, a primal instinct claws up my spine. A warning. I’m out of time.
I shove past him.
Three strides to the door.
My body is a coiled spring, every instinct screaming at me. The elevator can’t hit the ground floor fast enough.
“Axe, what the hell!” Griffen’s shout barely registers as the elevator doors slide shut. I don’t waste breath on a reply.
Once I hit street level, I see the Range Rover. Back door wide open. Rain pouring inside. No sign of her.
The air punches out of my chest.
“Rory!” Her name rips from my throat before I even process the thought. I sprint. My heart’s a jackhammer as I skid to a stop beside the car. Empty. The seats are soaked, her keys lay abandoned on the pavement, and the knot in my chest tightens until I can’t fucking breathe.
She’s not here.
“RORY!” I roar through the downpour.
Brain spiraling, hands shaking, I slam my fist into the hood. The impact rattles through my bones, metal denting beneath my knuckles.
She’s gone.
“Axe, what the hell is going on!?” Griffen’s close behind, but his words are drowned out by the violent dread overtaking me.
“She’s gone!” I shove past him, yanking out my phone and dialing her number—voicemail. My grip tightens around the device, barely resisting the urge to hurl it into the pavement.
“They took her, Griffen, don’t you get it!?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His brow furrows, rain dripping down his face.
I whirl on him, chest heaving. “I wasn’t the target. She was. The Black Eagles—they weren’t there to kill me. They were there to take her.”
My vision blurs red. My pulse pounds so hard it’s painful. I want to kill everyone.
“Why the hell would anyone take Rory?” Griffen demands, voice edged with shock.
I don’t answer. There’s no time for questions, no time for this shit. My legs move on pure instinct—hunting mode.
“Axe!” he yells, but I’m already inside, slamming the elevator button so hard the plastic cracks.
The second the doors part, I’m moving. Fast.
Conrad. That sneaky, power-hungry motherfucker. He’s been playing me from the start.
My boots slam against the tile, people diving out of my way as I storm through the corridor.