Sawyer began to pace in front of Craig’s desk. He folded his arms to keep from hitting something. Each second felt like the worst fucking second of his life. Not only hadn’t he been able to protect his sister from this motherfucker, but now Chloe was in danger because Sawyer had left her tonight.
I should have stayed with her.
As guilt began to wreak havoc on his soul, he spun to pace in the opposite direction, and plowed straight into the chief of police. Andrew frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Sawyer gritted his teeth. “The asshole who beat up my sister has abducted my girlfriend.”
The chief’s eyes widened, shock reflecting in their depths. But just then Sawyer’s focus shifted to the nine men who stormed into the room: his SWAT team. Dressed in full gear, his captain approached Sawyer with purposeful strides. Dyson Henry, a retired Navy SEAL who’d led the Las Vegas SWAT team for the last ten years, handed Sawyer his gear. “We’ve heard. Have you found her location?”
“Negative.” Sawyer placed the gear on the desk next to him. Not caring who was in the room, he dropped his pants and quickly dressed in his black uniform.
As he zipped up his fly, he called over to Craig, “What’s the fucking problem?”
Craig’s fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard. “They must be out in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. Her cell is turned on, that much I know.” He picked up his phone and dialed a number. “Las Vegas PD here. I need help tracking this number….”
Sawyer guessed that Craig had called the phone company to assist in homing in on the signal. He grabbed his helmet, put it on, and finished up with the thigh holster that held his Colt .45.
Now dressed, he turned to Craig, who was still talking on the phone, his fingers tapping against his desk. Sawyer ran his hand over his head and closed his eyes. Years of training as a sniper taught him to focus and to remain calm, even in the most stressful moments.
Yet no training had ever prepared him for this.
When he had managed to slow his heartbeat, he reopened his eyes to see Craig still on the phone, talking urgently and listening intently. Sawyer sighed. “We can’t wait any longer,” he muttered. With each second that passed, Chloe needed him more.
Kyler glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “What do you suggest?”
Suddenly an idea presented itself to Sawyer, bringing hope with it. He reached down to his jeans on the floor, taking his cell phone from his pocket.
Kyler frowned. “Calling someone?”
“Believe me, you don’t want to know.” Sawyer dialed the number he’d seen on Chloe’s phone before, pleased that he paid attention to such things.
As the phone began to ring, Sawyer moved away from the group. On the third ring, Shane answered. “If you’re a telemarketer calling at this time of night, there is something wrong with you—”
“It’s Chloe’s friend Sawyer,” he interrupted, voice stern. “Chloe has been abducted. I need you to track her cell phone to find her location.”
A pause. “I actually wish you were selling me something now.”
“Can you track it?” Sawyer bit out.
He heard a tight smile in Shane’s voice. “You, my friend, have come to the right place.” Sawyer heard typing through the phone line. “I’ll do one better. I won’t just trace it, I’ll send you a satellite image of her exact location to your cell phone…now.”
Sawyer didn’t care what system Shane had hacked to get that information so fast—he had what he needed. His phone beeped once, and his heart pounded in his ears as he lifted his head and announced to his team, “I have her location.”
—
Wood plank walls surrounded Chloe as she sat on a straw-covered floor, eyeing the spiderwebs in every nook and cranny. From her place in the corner of the abandoned barn, Chloe kept a close eye on Travis. He paced the barn, rambling to himself, as the wood groaned under his heavy footsteps.
Her nose itched from the dust Travis stirred up as he paced. Every so often, he’d grab his head and speak in a language Chloe knew didn’t exist. The dark circles under his eyes made it obvious to her that he hadn’t slept in days. He was high as a kite.
Shivering in worry, she tucked her legs underneath her, covering her bare flesh with Sawyer’s T-shirt. Her heart thumped against the wall of her chest as Travis turned, spitting out obscenities. I need to get out of here.
Chloe scanned the barn for a way out. She couldn’t spot any doors except the one they had entered through, and Travis was between her and it. Bales of hay were stacked in the loft of the barn. Around her she could see shovels and other farm equipment leaning against the old walls. The only light came from a single bulb hanging in the center near an old tractor. In the far corner of the barn she noticed a crude setup suggesting that this was where Travis had been making meth.
Travis turned just then and caught sight of her. She held her breath. He took two steps toward her, stopping four feet away. “Fucking asshole.” He scratched at his face. “Couldn’t leave me alone. Had to keep pushing. Wouldn’t let me leave.”
Ice ran through Chloe’s veins. Travis was cornered, and he knew it. He was crazed and out of options, and that worried Chloe more than anything else.
Should I stay quiet? Or should I try to outsmart him?