Page 60 of The Bratva's Innocent Sold Bride
“No,” I answered, hanging up. If he were still in LA and drunk to boot, there was no way he had managed to take CJ.
So, where the hell was she? And why wasn’t she, or her guards or driver, answering their phones?
“Artem,” I said out loud, hitting the steering wheel.
The dog hadn’t been at home, and CJ never went anywhere without her little crybaby. When we first got him, she’d not only had him microchipped, but she spent a fortune at the pet store, including GPS tags she attached to his collar, his leash, and even kept an extra in the little basket of toys she carried around for him. I had considered it overkill at the time, but now I was rushing to find the app she had made me install on her phone to be able to track him if he ever got lost.
The first one showed up at the office, which would have been the basket. So, had she been here and gone? The one on his collar showed up in a part of town I’d never been to, and according to the map, there wasn’t anything there that CJ would have been interested in.
Fear started to wriggle in as I headed that way, keeping the app open on the seat next to me in case Artem should move. It was so still I began to worry he’d gotten out of the collar somehow, or worse. Putting my foot to the gas, I raced through the increasingly deserted streets until I came to the spot.
A gas station that looked like it hadn’t been in business for at least ten years was the only building within a block. A scraggly patch of trees sprouted up behind it, with remnants of old junked cars poking out around a rusty dumpster.
“Artem!” I shouted, looking down at the app. I should have been within a few feet of the dog, so where was he? Where was his Mama? “Artem, who’s a good dog?”
I heard the whine from behind the dumpster and hurried over, crouching down to see him curled up between it and the wall of the gas station. When he saw me, his tail thumped, and he crawled out, keeping low to the ground.
I hugged him, dirty and covered in leaves as he was. “I’ve never been so glad you’re so spineless,” I said. “Good dog, staying put. But where’s your Mama? Where’s CJ?”
As if I expected him to tell me, I stared into his sad eyes. With another thump of his tail, he whined and ran a few feet away, sniffing the ground in the cracked parking lot and letting out a sharp bark.
“Are you actually trying to tell me something?” I had lost it. I was talking to a dog, hoping beyond hope for anything that would help me find CJ.
Artem remained glued to my side as I started searching the woods, calling a team out to help me. An hour later, there was no sign of her, and it felt like every minute that ticked past felt like time was running out. Still no word from the guards and her driver, and I feared I might not hear from them again.
Where was my wife? She didn’t just abandon her dog out here in the middle of nowhere and wander off. Someone took her. If not Gordon, who would dare?
I knew in my gut it was my enemy, and rage began to blossom, giving the gloomy atmosphere a red tinge. It had to be Anatoli; there was no one else. He’d let himself be seen, drawing me back from LA, and now he had my wife.
And I still didn’t have a clue where he was.
The red rage slowly turned into ice-cold fear.
Chapter 37 - CJ
“How?” I asked, utterly stunned to see the man I’d been tracking.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re not the only one who’s good at computer games.”
Computer games. He was onto me. He’d discovered my app. But how? I was meticulous. Then again, he was a big-time tech genius, and I was a recent graduate on my first job. I had bitten off more than I could chew, and now I was going to choke on my mistake.
He pulled out of the gas station parking lot, and I swiveled to try to catch a glimpse of Artem through the tears that burned my eyes. I was distraught enough to beg him to stop and let me find him.
“I don’t think so.”
“Listen, I’m sorry. I really am.”
My apology only got a bitter laugh. I couldn’t bring myself to say I was just following orders… Orders. I always wondered why Mat wanted me to dig into Terrence Hendricks, but Mat seemed to be pretty diversified, with his fingers in a lot of pies. Maybe he just wanted in on whatever Terrence was creating.
And then, as eager as he’d been for any and all information, he ordered me to stop as soon as I found the Russian connection. That couldn’t be a coincidence. What was that name?
“Anatoli Ovinko,” I said aloud.
He laughed again, almost appreciative. “I figured that’s why your husband got you out of town. I got you back, though.”
My bones seemed to feel heavier, my throat clogging with fear. Mat knew who he was all along. He was dangerous, and that was why Mat was adamant about me quitting the project. Maybe he didn’t count on me finding out and hoped to get enough dirt on Terrence to bring him down before I did.
“What did you just say?” God, I wanted to punch him when he laughed yet again. None of this was funny to me.
