Page 27 of Mad Love

Dr. Browne had done well for herself, if the sprawling two-story cabin was anything to go by. The circular driveway was protected by an eight-foot-tall wrought iron gate that required a code to gain access. Beyond it, the drive was lined in evergreen trees that opened up to expose a house of dark wood beams and massive glass windows. It looked like an architectural dream, and I glanced down at the file Ash had amassed on the doctor.

She was divorced with two grown children, and, judging by what he’d unearthed on social media, neither child had shit to do with their mom. Her ex-husband had traded her in for a newer model who’d been in the same sorority as their oldest daughter.

Sharon Browne was a divorcee who lived alone in a big house with two cats and a security system that Ash had hacked in less than five minutes. Everything about her looked like she was trying to project an image of a woman in control and above the rest of her peers.

The telephoto lens I was using gave me a view into her home office. Pictures adorned almost every available surface. Images of Dr. Browne with senators and congressmen, CEOs and ambassadors. There was even a picture of her with a past president and a former sheik.

She was a woman obsessed with herself and her own career. A career she’d made at the expense of victims and people who genuinely needed help. The more I’d looked into the Highwater Institution, the more my gut had roiled with worry. The institution was nearly a hundred years old and had originally been set up as an asylum for people who wanted to put away relatives. In the past twenty-five years, it had made the jump to elite psychiatric facility for the rich and depraved.

I lowered the lens and glanced at the man sitting behind the wheel. “Ready?”

Royal looked at me with a ghost of a smirk. “Are you? You don’t usually get your hands dirty.”

I glared at him, not bothering to respond, because he was right. I was usually the guy calling the shots behind the scenes with Ash while Linc and Court—along with Court’s brothers—handled anything that might need the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

But this was Maddie, my fucking wife. I wasn’t willing to leave her fate in anyone else’s hands. If I had to rip the answers I needed from Dr. Browne, then I would. Piece by bloody piece.

Royal gave a short nod. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” He opened his door and got out silently. The guy was fucking huge, several inches over six feet and with a physique that was textbook Navy SEAL. It was unreal how quietly he could move. And not just Royal, but all of his brothers.

I got out, my door brushing the heavy undergrowth of the copse of trees we’d parked behind. Ash had already hacked and disabled the security cameras around the property earlier in the day.

The light in Dr. Browne’s study turned off, and then another light dimmed as she headed down the hallway, presumably to her bedroom.

“Go,” Royal ordered, his tone hard and cold as he jerked his chin toward the eight-foot fence that wrapped around the property.

I broke into a sprint and jumped up, reaching the top of the fence without a problem. The damn thing was decorative more than anything else, and it shuddered as Royal scaled it alongside me.

We dropped onto the other side and exchanged glances before moving as one to the side of the house where a door led to the kitchen.

Part of me wanted to kick in the front door and make as much noise as possible. I wanted Dr. Browne to feel terrified, to feel an ounce of the fear I knew Maddie had felt. But Ash’s recon had shown that her house came complete with a panic room on the other side of her closet. We couldn’t risk her getting in there first, or this would all be for nothing.

Royal knelt in front of the door and had it unlocked in seconds. We stepped inside and glanced around a large space that looked utterly untouched. Walking through the cavernous kitchen, I spotted a few takeout containers scattered on the counter.

I knew Royal had spent the trip to Wyoming studying every inch of the floorplan, so I followed him down a hallway and up some stairs without hesitation. I counted each of the doors we walked past, my hands reflexively balling into fists with each step as I pictured squeezing the life out of Dr. Browne.

Royal spun and arched a brow at me, looking pointedly at my hands. He was trying to tell me to chill out, and I knew it. I needed to bottle up my emotions and handle this without letting my heart weigh in. And once upon a time, I would have. I could have. But not now. Not when the thing at risk was my heart itself.

God, I’d turned into such a fucking pussy, but Maddie was everything. It made me irrational and volatile, but I couldn’t change it.

Rolling his eyes, Royal eased open the door we’d stopped in front of.

The bed was empty, but there was a light on in the bathroom. The door was almost completely closed, and the shadow of the person inside walked back and forth before the light turned out and the door opened.

The look of surprise on Dr. Browne’s face was almost comical. Illuminated in the moonlight, her jaw dropped open, and then true terror filled her eyes and she let out a wailing screech that probably could set off car alarms before diving toward her closet.

I took two steps and intercepted her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tossing her backward so she landed on her bed with a yelp.

“Stay still or we’ll tie you to the fucking bed,” Royal growled.

Clutching the front of her top to her throat, she started sobbing. “Don’t rape me.”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed. The idea that I’d want my dick anywhere near this bitch was a fucking riot. Even Royal cracked a grin, but somehow it made him look even more unhinged.

“No one’s going to touch your shriveled up cunt,” I assured her, my tone biting. “But you’re going to give me answers.”

She sniffled and had the nerve to look affronted for a second before her gaze focused on me and she gasped. “You.”

I smiled. “Me.” I went to the side of the room with a small writing desk and chair and dragged the chair back on two legs to sit across from her. “Where’s my wife?”

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