Traded (Blood Ties Book 5)

Find him.

Find him and get back to her.

The need made me feel dangerous as I climbed into the Explorer and started the engine. The guards stared as I punched the accelerator and the four-wheel drive responded, kicking up rocks as I tore along the driveway and hit the road hard.

My teeth gnashed.

But I didn’t care. I was hunting now with a purpose…and that purpose was her. I flew along the streets, then headed to the storage shed, careful to take the long way around and watch the rear-view mirror. I leaned forward to look up at the washed-out gray skies, then settled back and hit the seat warmer.

At least this time, I’d grabbed a jacket, because I knew sure as hell I was going to be out in the cold, unless I cleared this up fast. It had to be a guard. There was no way around it. I’d known that the moment I watched the footage the first time, and I was even surer of it now.

One of them had betrayed us by switching off the lights and opening the door. There was no way around it. London could be pissed all he wanted, but it was right there with blinding clarity…and the empty goddamn cell where Jack Castlemaine had been.

I pushed the Explorer harder. The sooner I was there, beating the shit out of the guard who’d stabbed us in the back, then the sooner I’d be with London and Wildcat when they went out.

Goddamn stupid idea.

But it wasn’t my call to make.

London knew better…he’d better.

My tires slipped on the icy road. I eased my foot off the accelerator and let the momentum take me until I’d pushed the car back within the lines and turned the wheel as I lifted my gaze to the storage shed. But instead of driving in, I pulled over and watched.

The guards’ cars were parked toward the back of the lot. I caught glimpses of a dark Chevy and a sleek red convertible, and winced. Way to stay invisible. But there was nothing else. The empty lots around us gave me no answers.

Get this done.

That hunger drove me. I shoved the four-wheel drive into gear and pulled into the driveway. I barely stopped long enough to punch the code in and drove through. I was parked and climbing out before I knew it, that same desperate need to get back to her howling in my veins.

I’d never feel this ache before.

Never felt this fucking wired.

It was dangerous.

I was dangerous.

God help those who stood in my way.

I pushed through the doors. The guards already stood there as I walked in, staring at me with pale faces and wide, terrified eyes. They knew why I was here. “I want to see everyone who was on shift today and I want to see them now.”

Mickie gave a nod and lifted his phone. “Already on it.”

“Good.” I scanned the foyer of London’s little rat cage. “I’ll be in the room.”

I headed along the hallways to the storage units that housed cells. But I didn’t go straight to the one where Jack Castlemaine had been. No, I stopped at the one where the air was still tainted with the smell of blood and the desperate hiss of a dying man.

I stopped in the hallway and shoved the door open. The room was empty and had been scrubbed clean. But I could still feel it, that nothingness that had consumed me…that chilling rage. All I saw was her. Her bruises. Her fear. The monster that lived inside had taken control and it hadn’t stopped.

Even now—I closed my eyes—I wanted to kill all over again.

I’d find new ways to make him piss himself.

New ways to deliver him to Hale that’d sicken and terrifying anyone else.

I yanked the door closed and stepped away.

Find him…find him and get back to her.

I headed for the room where Jack had been, punched in the code and opened the door. There were no marks on the locks, no signs of forced entry anywhere.

Beep.

I scowled, grabbed my phone, and looked down.

Wildcat: Tell me this is a good idea.

I clenched my jaw. Hell no, it wasn’t a good fucking idea. But London was a shark in the fucking water and right now all he smelled was blood. Only, I couldn’t tell her that, could I? I couldn’t tell her that because it’d only panic her more and she was scared enough. I punched in a reply.

I’ll be back before you know it. I’m going to be right there with you. So the only thing you need to worry about, Wildcat, is to make sure you fucking stretch by the time you get home…cause I plan on fucking you well tonight.

My pulse was racing as I sent send and it had nothing to do with the promise of destroying that sweet fucking ass. It had everything to do with the need to get back to her. I scanned the room and stepped inside.

There was nothing.

In fact, there was less than nothing.

No screams.

No scent of blood.

And no Jack Castlemaine.

The heavy thud of boots sounded as they neared. I tracked the movement as Mickie stopped in the doorway behind me. “Sebastian isn’t answering. I’ll keep trying.”

“Sebastian isn’t answering,” I repeated, then slowly turned toward him. “Why do you suppose that is?”

There was a flare of concern in his eyes, then a shake of his head. “No, he’s not that guy. I vetted him personally.”

“So you admit you fucked up?”

His scowl deepened. “I didn’t fuck up. He wouldn’t betray you and he wouldn’t betray London.”

I stepped around him and headed into the hall. “We’ll see about that, won’t we? If you let him know I’m coming, I’ll be seriously pissed.”

The former SEAL said nothing as I headed out. I pulled up Sebastian’s address, when I backed out of the parking lot and headed for the townhouses on the edge of the city. A heaviness filled my stomach as I slowed the four-wheel drive and scanned front yards littered with kids’ bicycles and overflowing trash cans.

Most times, I didn’t care I was the fucking dog London released. I did what I had to…what I was trained to do. But there were those times when I didn’t want to wear the stain of another person’s blood—I pulled the four-wheel drive over to the side of the road and killed the engine while I stared at the cramped, ugly two-story house—and this was one of those times.

I palmed the switchblade, climbed out, and caught movement in a window above as I locked the car. Anger rose inside me. If that asshole would’ve answered his fucking phone, then I wouldn’t have to be out here. I wouldn’t have to walk along the concrete pathway and scuff the fucking chalk flower outline his kid left behind.

I wouldn’t have to climb the stairs and force my way in.

I wouldn’t have to leave the man fucking bleeding…or worse, dead.

I wouldn’t have to be the killer I needed to be.

I stopped outside the front door and waited without knocking.

Whatever happened inside was his own fucking fault.

The lock snapped and the door cracked open. The guy I stared at was sick. Pale and shaking, his eyes bugged out.

“You going to let me in?”

There was a moment of hesitation. No doubt the asshole had a gun in his hand. I’d slice him between the ribs before his finger could touch the trigger…and I’d leave him to bleed out.

He knew that, I saw it in his eyes, saw the way he looked at me before he took a step back while tucking his hand behind his leg. “I didn’t answer Mickie’s calls ‘cause I’m sick.”

I stepped inside and looked around. The place stank of sweat and fear. I knew the tang well. My senses picked up no movement from the bedroom. The kid wasn’t here…good.

I turned and faced him. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“I dunno, man. I think I picked up some kind of bug.” He scratched the back of his head, careful not to make eye contact.

He knew that wasn’t what I meant. The awkwardness grew. I watched him look around everywhere but at me.

“You have a nice family,” I murmured as I glanced at a photo of him, a pretty redhead, and a daughter who had to be about ten.

“Don’t,” he protested, his voice deeper. “Not them.”

“Then tell me what happened and make sure it’s the truth. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

He winced and his eyes darted around the room before he went still. Here was the battle, and the only advantage I had. My reputation sometimes preceded me…and was the only thing that kept some schmucks like this guy alive.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

He waited for me to say something, to ease him somehow. It didn’t happen.

“I was telling the truth. I picked up some kind of fucking bug and this morning I was feeling like hell.” He reached up, scratched the back of his neck again, and that drew my focus.

Then I saw it.

The raised red lump on the side of his neck.

“I switched off the alarm and unlocked the fire door, just for a second. I didn’t know if I was gonna barf or fill my damn pants or both. Then it hit me.”

“What hit you?”

“The fucking bitch.”

I scowled. “What. Bitch?”

“The bitch that was fucking waiting. She was just there, man. I stumbled out, about to hurl my guts up, then the next thing I knew, I was fucking blindsided. I went down, then the next thing all I heard was footsteps. She must’ve taken my card, it was gone when I pushed to my feet.”

I took a step closer. “And you didn’t say anything about it?”

He jerked in response and took a step backwards, then met my gaze. “I fucked up. I knew I’d fucked up. I just…panicked.”

“You. Panicked.”

Agony tore across his face. “I don’t want to die…and I don’t want my family hurt.”

I crossed the room in an instant, grabbed the incompetent asshole by the throat, and drove him backwards. “Then you should’ve opened your fucking mouth and set off the fucking alarm. Do you know how much damage you’ve caused? All because you can’t keep your fucking shit together.”

“It must’ve been the coffee. There was a new girl and, I dunno, she must’ve fucked up my order. They know I’m lactose sensitive.”

I stiffened. “You’re telling me you stopped at some fucking cafe, spouted your damn mouth, and then drank some swill that was most likely drugged.”

“No.” His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“They knew your name, right?”

He slowly nodded.

A nerve twitched in the corner of my eye. “And I’m guessing you broke the fucking rule that said you don’t wear your uniform in public?”

He was almost gray.

“So, she was waiting for you and you walked right into it. What kind of fucking incompetent asshole are you?”

“I didn’t know…”

I unleashed a snarl, then shoved him away.

“How was I to know? She took my card and let herself in. They were gone before I knew it.”

“Where’s the fucking card now?” I snarled as I turned away. I might be able to get Harper to pull a print.

“I dunno. She must still have it. I never got it back.”

I swung back. “She still has it?”

My pulse kicked. The sound thudded in my ears as he nodded. I grabbed my phone and strode from the sight of the fucking moron, before I punched him in the goddamn throat.

“Carven?” Harper answered on the second ring. “What do I owe—”

“I need you to trace a chip that’s in one of the access cards. The name is Sebastian Poole. I need to know its location and I need it now.”

“Okay. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“If I’m right, then King’s other daughter just broke Jack Castlemaine out and if she’s running, then she might still have the access card she used to do it with her.”

“Jesus…”

“Yeah.”

“Give me a second,” Harper muttered as I strode down the stairs and trod on the fucking chalk outline again as I headed back to the car.

By the time I climbed in, he was back. “I got it,” he announced. “Sending the location to your phone now.”

“Thanks,” I acknowledged as I started the engine.

Beep.

I lifted my phone as I snapped my seatbelt in place, expecting it to be Harper…but it wasn’t.

Wildcat: Will you meet us at the restaurant?

My damn hand shook as I stared at the text. I shouldn’t be here. I should be with her. I should be calling in backup to get this over and get the hell out of here. But the only backup I’d ever had was my brother…and the way he’d looked at me tonight, he may as well not be.

He’d looked at me like I was a goddamn stranger. Not one he particularly liked, either. I closed my eyes for a second as my phone vibrated again in my hand.

I opened my eyes and looked down to find the text from Harper and scanned at the GPS marker on the secure tracking app before I stilled. “What the fuck?”

The card wasn’t at the storage shed, that’s for sure. It was somewhere near the goddamn marina. They’d ditched the access card, or some idiot had stolen it. That was the only way it could’ve ended up anywhere near there.

This was a total waste of my time.

I needed to get back home.

Back to…Vivienne.

I left her text unanswered, desperate to get this done. She wouldn’t even know I was gone. The longer I stared at that goddamn marker, the more pissed off I became. I pulled out, headed into the city, and followed it all the way toward the water until I pulled over in front of the marina. The card had been tossed in the water. That was the only way—

Until the damn marker moved.

Right in front of me.

I stared at the screen, then lifted my gaze to the heavy steel gates that blocked off the entrance to the multimillion dollar ocean cruisers that were docked there. But that wasn’t where the beacon was pointing. I yanked the handle, climbed out, and followed the blinking light to a massive shed in the middle of a compound next door.

I adjusted my jacket, checked my gun, and locked the four-wheel drive behind me. I didn’t know what this was…some kind of boatyard. I headed for the gate, grabbed the bars, and heaved myself over.

The sooner I confirmed this was a dead-end, the sooner I could get out of here. I lengthened my stride as I headed along the boardwalk, then turned. The marina was packed with boats, luxury cruisers that glinted and gleamed even in the pathetic washed-out gray sunlight.

I shifted my focus to glance down at my phone before I lifted my gaze to the towering boat shed behind a locked gate in the distance. I reached around, grabbed the all-in-one tool I’d slipped into my back pocket, and found the cutters.

The place didn’t look like it was alarmed. One scan of the grounds, and I knew there were no guard dogs. I glanced over my shoulder and scanned those who laughed and partied on the boats behind me, before I rounded the side of the compound, then dropped to the ground.

Seconds.

That’s all it took before I cut the wire and was through the fence. Jagged metal ends snagged my goddamn jacket and tore a jagged hole in the fabric as I stood. Motherfucker. I ignored the hole and turned my focus to the looming shed in front of me.

The massive overhead rollup door was open, so I was free to stare at the expensive as fuck luxury cruiser docked inside. The closer I came, the more I saw. Two cars were parked in the space, a black Bugatti and a midnight edition RAM. The vehicles were fucking impressive. But I wasn’t here for a fucking tour of the place. I was here for Jack Castlemaine.

I scanned the huge shed as I stepped inside and kept to the shadows. The place wasn’t just a ‘rent by the fucking day’ hideaway, that’s for sure. I rounded the side of the mammoth cruiser to find a wall packed with guns and weapons and a bench full of power tools.

I stopped cold.

The same screen we’d found in that abandoned apartment sat there, the one I’d stared at as my fucking woman was being taken.

Thud.

I jerked my gaze to the cruiser. My senses sharpened and narrowed in on the boat. There was someone in there. I reached around, grabbed my gun, and scanned the machine the boat was moored to, then headed for the ladder and climbed.

I was too loud, no matter how hard I tried. So I moved faster and vaulted over the rail to land on the boat with a bang.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath and headed for the cabin.

The hinges were silent as I opened the door and stepped inside. There were men’s clothes on the floor…clothes I knew instantly, Jack’s. A white access card lay next to them, one fitted with the chip I’d tracked. I didn’t touch it, just turned my focus to the door leading down into the living compartment and lifted my gun.

This motherfucker would be lucky if he came out of this alive. Sister or not, I’d had enough of this cat and fucking mouse game. I’d had enough of being away from Vivienne.

I stepped down and saw Jack’s fucking trousers on the floor of the living space, then lifted my gaze to the sleeping compartments toward the back and kept moving. The air shifted in the boat and I was aware of it. Goosebumps raced along my arms. For a second, a flicker of worry rose before I lifted my gun and reached out to grasp the door handle.

A quiet turn and I pushed the door inward and stared into the murky light. My eyes adjusted in time for me to catch a hint of movement. Light from behind me spilled into the room to show glinting silver eyes from the biggest fucking black cat I’d ever seen. The beast arched its back and hissed like a fucking snake as fear kicked in my chest.

Something was wrong.

Something was—

I spun around in time to catch a blur of movement.

Crack! The brutal blow crashed against my head.

Sparks exploded behind my eyelids.

In the blur, I saw her…her big brown eyes and those fucking perfect lips.

“Wildcat?” I whispered before my knees gave way and I crumpled to the floor.

She moved closer and stood over me. “I don’t think so, asshole,” she murmured and lifted a rifle, the butt already swinging at my head. “Nighty night.”

I tried to lift my arm, tried to move, but the end of the weapon bore down on me and slammed against my head once more.

Darkness came.

One so black that it swallowed everything.

Including the one face I needed…

And I was gone.