Page 47 of Loving Lex

“Not likely,” he said, “given what this group is apparently into. I’m also working on pulling texts and voicemails now. That’s where I hoped you guys might be able to help.”

“We’re familiar with the area, too,” Gideon said. “I have an idea of a couple of places they might be. Let me look into it as well and we can pool our resources.”

“Sounds good.”

We hung up, agreeing to reconvene in an hour, though that was sixty minutes too long in my book. That was sixty minutes that Shay was at the mercy of fuck only knew, and it made me beyond sick.

Sex trafficking.

I was enraged, heartsick, desperate, and more confused and terrified than I’d ever been in my life. I was man enough to admit that, at least to myself. I was terrified because I knew, in that moment, I couldn’t stand to lose her. I would be lost. She’d become more than just my girlfriend or my partner in crime—she was my life. My reason. There would be no point, I realized, if she was not in my world.

Thankfully, Gideon Kane wasted no time. He had Tony on tech with Maverick, while Lucky, Jarod, and I talked tactical strategy and weaponry. JD took notes, nodding that he would provide whatever we needed, all with the big man’s approval.

Less than an hour later, Maverick called back. “Guys, I’m already getting some shit on voicemail and text, and it’s not good,” he said without preamble.

“What is it?” I bit out, pacing now like a caged lion.

“Well, I can forward them to you if you want, but to sum up the voicemails, there are a series of messages from Fedorov to Sloan, detailing Shay’s life for a few days leading up to her kidnapping. Apparently, he’s been watching her, waiting for the best time to snatch her. Then he left a message that he was waiting in her apartment, and another that he had her and was en route to the ‘location.’”

“Jesus.” I raked a hand over my hair. She’d been right... someone had been watching her.

“Fedorov is a low-level grunt, but the Russians are nothing if not methodical,” Kane intoned. “What else?”

“The text messages,” Maverick said, his voice low and serious.

“What is it, brother?” Lucky asked.

“One is a five-second video clip of her, clearly drugged. I’m assuming a proof of life.”

I crumpled, my hands to my knees, as I sucked in a deep breath. I took a moment to collect myself and embraced the surge of red-hot rage that shot through my system as I envisioned her like that. “I’ll kill him,” I bit out.

“That’s not the worst of it,” Maverick added.

I shot up and barked, “What?”

“The asshole forwarded the video to Shay’s dad. Apparently, she’s just a pawn in a blackmail attempt to have some sort of investigation swept under the rug.”

“Holy—”

“Wait. It gets worse.”

I let my head fall back. How could it possibly get worse?

“Daddy’s response?” Maverick said acidly. “Seeing his daughter drugged with threats of being sold into sex trafficking didn’t queue up the normal paternal panic.” Maverick cleared his throat. “And I quote, ‘You can go fuck yourself, Sloan. You and my spoiled, conniving daughter deserve each other. I can’t believe this is what she’s stooped to for attention and money.’”

“Wow,” Kane said under his breath.

“He even added an ‘FYI, tell her I’m still waiting for her to apologize to Rachel,’” Maverick added. “Don’t know who Rachel is, but what a fucking douche.”

I knew Shay and her dad had their issues, but—this? This was beyond fucked up. My heart broke even more for her.

Talk in the room turned to logistics and what we could do to bring Sloan down, but Maverick interjected again. “Guys...” We went silent. “Another text just went through to Shay’s father. I’m shooting over a copy.”

We all crowded around Lucky at the computer while he brought up the shared screen.

Sloan:This is your last chance, Steele.

Another photo attachment came through with a picture of a darkened room full of women, all in various states of disarray, some crying, others huddled together or curled up on filthy beds. All clearly drugged. The next photo was a close-up of Shay’s face. Her eyes were half closed. Her beautiful cheeks were tear-streaked and sweaty, her lips pale. Dark circles under her eyes made her look gaunt and pasty, like she’d been vomiting for days.

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