"It's Sawyer," he said in my ear, sounding calm, dangerously so.
"Shane call you?"
"Yeah, but I got a call from Barrett first."
"Barrett?"
"Try as I might, couldn't keep his ass off the case once he got released. He's crashing on my couch with his laptop. Anyway, he must be keeping tabs on Elsie because he said she dropped a pin."
"She dropped a pin?" I asked, that meaning absolutely nothing to me.
"On Facebook. He said she used to do it all the time anytime she went out with friends. To check in or whatever. Until he told her to stop because that was just asking for a stalker. Anyway, she dropped a pin and he called because she dropped it in Third Street territory. Somewhere on Hoover. She pinned it at Barky's, but there's no way she's at a vape shop, let alone advertising that she's at a vape shop. But Barkey's is about a block over from..."
"The warehouse on Kennedy," I finished for him.
"You seen the place?" Sawyer asked and I could hear a little tension there. "It's massive. No fucking telling how many men could be in there. I got me and two of my men..."
"I can get Breaker and Shooter but that's about it..."
"Better than nothing. Call them. Meet me by Barky's in twenty."
He disconnected and I called Breaker to fill him in. He would call Shoot. They would meet me at Barky's. Then the six of us would go in and pray like fuck the warehouse wasn't full of the entire God damn Third Street gang.
"Yo," Enzo called as I made my way out his bedroom door. I turned back with a raised brow. "Under the sink in the kitchen. Both are loaded."
I nodded tightly. "Thanks."
With that, I went into the kitchen, grabbed the guns, and tore out of the apartment building, trying not to consider what it meant that Enzo was helping me, that he was out of the gang, that he was not my enemy anymore. That was shit I would think about when I got my eyes and hands on Elsie again, when I knew she was alright.
D was a wild card.
When I ran things, I was constantly having to keep an eye on him, make sure he wasn't getting some asinine idea into his head and running with it. He was violent and dumb which, as anyone with half a brain would know, was a really bad combination. He hadn't really hurt her in the video at the gym. True, he'd dragged her. And, yeah, he'd choked her out. But he hadn't beat her. He looked like he was focused on just bringing the mouse home to his master. Which was good. If she didn't piss him off, she would be alright.
She'd been smart. She'd used the phone to drop a pin, hoping or knowing that Barrett was keeping an eye on her. She was hoping for a rescue. I hoped that meant she knew not to try to fight her way out. There was no way to fight out. Especially not for someone untrained and nowhere near as strong as the men who she would be around.
I pulled up, parking behind Sawyer's massive SUV, walking up to the three men standing there: Sawyer, his giant wall of muscle named Tig, and Sawyer's other guy, a tall, thin, but strong guy around my age with buzz-cut blond hair, sharp features, and brown eyes. Judging by the wide-legged stance with his hands clasped behind his back, he screamed ex-military.
"Brock found the car," Sawyer said as soon as I joined them. "Over about half a block in a lot. She'd kicked out the taillight. He found her gym bag in there, but her phone was gone so she lost it, got it taken from her, or, hopefully, still has it on her."
"Anything else?"
Tig and Brock shared a look that immediately made me straighten. Whatever 'else' there was, it wasn't good.
Luckily for me, Sawyer wasn't the kind of man to sugarcoat anything. He turned to me and gave it to me straight, no chaser, no garnish. "Brock found her gym lock. She must have used it to hit D," he said and I felt my stomach start to churn. So much for hoping she wouldn't piss him off. D had a short trigger. You looked at him wrong, he was zero-to-a hundred in a second flat. You came at him with a fucking padlock? Fuck.
"Say it," I demanded through gritted teeth.
"Blood and a fair amount of it on the pavement. He said it looks like some of it was from falling and skidding and that some looks spit out."
"Drag marks?"
"No. When he took her, he either carried her or she decided to just go with him to save herself any more abuse."
Shoot's ridiculously expensive car rolled up behind mine and he was out of it before any of us could draw breath. "Break will be here in two, three if he decides to stop at any of the red lights. So... two," he said, nodding at the guys.