Page 197 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
I’ve just reached the driver’s side door when a deep voice sounds down the line. “I’ve got her, Isaac.” Hugo’s deep timbre is breathless like he’s just woken up. “It took me so long to get in here as she had the door locked.”
I suck in many big breaths while struggling to quell my panic. It would be a shit-ton easier if Isabelle’s quiet sniffles weren’t still resonating down the line.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” My snapped command should advise Hugo that my decision isn’t up for negotiating, but just in case it doesn’t, I disconnect our call.
I slide in the driver’s seat of my Bugatti, forgoing my seat belt before throwing the gearstick into reverse. My sweaty palms clench the steering wheel as forcefully as my tires grip the gravel beneath them. In no time at all, I rocket out of the lot, harrowingly missing patrons heading to their vehicles after a night of dancing. My excessive speed as I race through the streets of Ravenshoe does little to ease the shake that has invaded my hands. Knowing Isabelle is upset is more alarming than I could have ever perceived. Even though she has Hugo, I won’t be satisfied that she’s safe until I see it with my own eyes.
Due to the early hour, the roads are deserted, void of the usual traffic that plagues Ravenshoe during daylight hours, so I make it to Regan’s apartment in record time. That probably has something to do with the manic speed I was driving.
Tires skidding along the polished concrete floor bounces off the concrete walls of the underground parking lot when I slam my foot on the brake. Since I no longer need myfuck pad, the parking space that came with the apartment is now occupied by a white BMW convertible.
With my back molars crunching together, I shift the gearstick into reverse, so I can park in the only spare space in the entire lot, Apartment 3A. After throwing open my door with more force than needed, I quickly stride toward the elevator banks. My lengthened steps falter when Regan darts to stand in front of me. She was hiding in the only dark corner of the garage, and that’s not the worst of the travesty.
Barely a strand of her platinum blonde locks are visible under the shockingly repulsive peaked beanie she’s wearing, but even its not as hideous as the words she speaks next. “You cannot go in there.”
She folds her arms in front of her chest, angering me more. “She had a nightmare.”
My jaw tenses when my attempt to skirt past her is impeded by her stepping back into my path. I grit my teeth before returning her glare with a fiercer one. It warns that I’m not in the mood for her alpha dominant games tonight. Isabelle needs me, but more than anything, I need her. I need to ensure she’s safe and protected, and that no tears are staining her beautiful face. But more than anything, I need to make sure the last time we talk isn’t while she’s crying. I made that mistake once. I won’t make it again.
The more Regan’s green eyes float between mine, the less stern her mask becomes. “Hugo has her, Isaac. Let him do the job you pay him to do.”
“That’s not his job!” My angry sneer reverberates around the empty parking lot as I bang my fist on my chest. “That’s my job! It’s my job to keep her safe!”
Regan shakes her head. “That’s no longer your position until Isabelle’s trial is over, or the charges against her are dropped.”
Although she’s said the same thing numerous times the past thirty-six hours, the sting of her words hasn’t lessened.
“Like fucking hell it isn’t!”
I skim past her to stride into the elevator, only stopping when she shouts, “Scanning your fingerprint will be useless.”
My head ricochets back quicker than a bullet fired from a gun. She’s barely visible in the shadows of the overhead lighting, but I can see the condescending smirk etched on her ruthless face.
“What did you do?”
She pops out her hip, strengthening her stance. “I stopped you from making a costly mistake. I had Hunter remove your prints from the security database.”
I growl like a bear about to begin hibernation. Regan has no clue how lucky she is to have female parts between her legs because if she didn’t, she would have taken her last breath by now.
With my mood as dangerous as my blood pressure, I pace back toward her. My steps are so furious and efficient, I reach her in less than a heartbeat. After seizing her wrist, I yank her toward the elevator banks. My thumbprint may not work anymore, but hers sure will.
Regan tries to tuck away the flinch my sudden movement caused, but she doesn’t fully suffocate before I see it. As the weight on my chest grows heavy, I release her wrist from my hold, mortified I caused her to show fear. When she catches my apologetic gaze, dread fades from her face, and her take-no-shit-from-anyone composure reins back over her features.
After exhaling a deep breath, she yanks me into the dark corner she was hiding in when I arrived. She’s so close, her breaths flutter my lips when she speaks. “You’re letting your feelings cloud your judgment. You need to step back and properly assess the situation.” Even though her tone is stern, the remorse reflecting out of her eyes is anything but. “They’re watching you.”
My shoulders square as my brows furrow. “Who?”
She’s barely whispering now, but she lowers her voice a few more decibels before replying, “A pizza delivery van has been parked at the front of the garage since I arrived home this morning. No one eats that much pizza, Isaac. Not even Hugo.”
When my head pops out of the shadowed darkness, I spot the delivery van she’s referencing. From this angle, I can’t see the entire van, but I can see the back quarter-panel window that most likely has a surveillance camera positioned behind it. Its location gives it a clear view of the elevator banks at the front of the building.
After returning my eyes to Regan, I ask, “I lost my tail on the way here, so whose surveillance team is that? IA or Ravenshoe PD?”
She shrugs. “I think it’s IA. Their case against Isabelle has been thrown out, but I have a feeling Theresa hasn’t gotten the memo. But in saying that, Hugo ensured no one followed them here this morning, so they’re either here waiting for you or hoping you’ll lead them to Isabelle.”
“Theresa knowsall about the women I bring here. Shewasone of them, so she’d also know I’d never bring Isabelle here.”
Theresa is bitter because I use to treat women more like a commodity than a person. In my defense, I didn’t know Isabelle existed back then. If I did, I would have never stopped looking for her.
