Closing her eyes a moment, she listened for sounds outside, but aside from the sound of the car’s engine and wheels, she heard nothing. No sounds from busy Vegas came from outside, telling her even if she yelled no one would hear her. How can I get help?
The answer came a second later. My phone! She reached down between her thighs and thanked God that her phone hadn’t fallen out of her panties—and that Travis hadn’t seen it.
With shaky hands, she took out her phone and turned it on. Since she’d texted Sawyer earlier that night, his phone number remained right at the top. Comforted by the fact that the phone gave off some light, she hit the call button.
The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Finally Sawyer’s soft, comforting voice came on the line. “I’m sorry I left you—”
Her words came out in a super-speed rush. “Travis came to your house and I’m now in the trunk of his car.”
The bewilderment was evident in his voice. “Come again?”
“I am in Travis’s trunk. I need help.”
She heard his sharp intake of breath.
When he spoke again she noted the change in his voice. His tone became calmer, slower—that of a man in control, a solider understanding the job in front of him. “Did Travis say where he was taking you?”
“No.” She mirrored Sawyer’s composed nature, trying to remind herself that Travis was out of his fucking mind and she was sober. She could outsmart Travis. “He knocked me out.”
A low growl filled the phone line. “All right. Did—”
The engine slowed, the loud roar turning into a quiet hum. “Wait.” She held her breath, listening hard. “I think he’s slowing down.” How had this happened to her? What had she done to deserve this? She wanted to be in Sawyer’s arms. “I…I don’t hear anything. Wait…” She shut her eyes to help her focus on the sound. “I hear gravel. Yes.” Her eyes opened. “We’re driving on gravel, not on a paved road.” The car jerked, and fear slammed into her. “Oh, no. Oh, God. He’s stopping.”
“You’re okay, Chloe.” Sawyer’s voice cracked. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
“Wait…” Her breath hitched as a new noise sent coldness right down into her soul. “He’s opening his door.”
“Keep the phone on. Hide it somewhere so Travis can’t see it. I’m on my way to the station now. We’ll track it and find you.”
“Hurry.” Tears filled her eyes as logic fled her mind and sheer fright overcame her. “I need you, Sawyer. I need you so much.”
He gave a pained noise. “You have me. Hide the phone. Do it now.”
She hid her phone under a rag in the corner of the trunk and then listened tensely: the slight purr of the engine; the wind rustling around the car; the crunching of shoes against gravel; a harsh thump.
The trunk opened, and two big hands reached for her. She screamed, overwhelmed with terror. She was no longer the hunter seeking Travis.
She’d become the prey.
—
Chloe’s scream tore across Sawyer’s senses as he drove as fast as he could toward the police station. On automatic pilot, he jumped out of his truck and raced in throug
h the back door, shouting, “I need a trace on a cell phone. Now.”
A dark head of hair rose from a cubicle. Immediate relief flooded Sawyer as he saw Kyler approaching. “Travis has abducted Chloe,” Sawyer told him tersely. He glanced around the room, seeing his fellow cops turn their attention to him. “My girlfriend has been abducted by the man who beat up my sister,” he said, his voice raised. Some of the officers stood up, going instantly to full alert. “Who can trace a phone?”
A tall, blond cop in the back corner cubicle raised his hand. “I can.”
Sawyer rattled off Chloe’s cell phone number. “Do it now.” Then he turned to a female cop who was close by. “Call in the SWAT team. Tell them to gather and be ready in ten.” He paused, wishing he had a description of Travis’s car. Knowing he didn’t, he ordered, “Put out an APB for a missing person—Chloe Nash, twenty-five years old, five foot four, brown hair, one hundred and thirty pounds.” All around him, Sawyer saw cops springing into action.
Eyes tight with concern, Kyler placed a hand on Sawyer’s shoulder. “Please explain to me what’s happened.”
Sawyer scraped his hands over his face, gutted. “I have no idea what happened. I went to Porter’s tonight to talk to him, leaving Chloe in my bed. As I was on my way home, she called me and told me that she was in the trunk of Travis’s car.” He dropped his hands and stared at his friend, knowing his expression wasn’t that of a controlled Dom but that of a desperate man. “I need to get to her. And I need to do it now.”
“We’ll find her.” Kyler gave a firm nod before moving across the office to the desk in the corner. “Have you locked onto the signal, Craig?”
“I’m doing my best.” Craig typed on his keyboard with fast fingers. “It’s pinging off a few towers and I’m having trouble triangulating the signal. It appears her GPS signal is weak. I can’t get an exact location.” He typed again, even more urgently now. “Give me a minute…”