“That motherfucker,” I growled to myself, flying into the building and rushing down the hallway.
“What mother…what’s going on?” Jack asked as he walked behind me.
“Open it or I’ll break it the fuck down,” I growled.
But the second it took for him to reach for his master key just felt too damn long to me, so my leg raised and slammed into the door.
Old and rickety, that was the style of building.
The door ripped apart like a prop on a cheesy, low-budget action/thriller.
“Where the fuck is he?” I growled when I was greeted with an empty room.
“If you’d stop being a fucking lunatic for two seconds, I could tell you that he hasn’t been here all day.”
“All day?” I asked, turning back to him.
“Nah, he drove out at like noon after fiddling with something in his trunk for an hour or so.”
“Fiddling with what in his trunk?”
“Not a person, if that is what you’re thinking,” Jack said, shaking his head. “I might mind my own business around here, but I’m not letting some poor woman get kidnapped on my watch. I don’t know. He was fucking with the back of the back seats and something with the latch.”
“So she couldn’t get out,” I mumbled, thinking it must have been a trick he’d picked up on the inside.
“So who couldn’t get out?”
“My girl,” I growled, moving past him so fast I slammed into his shoulder.
“Shit,” Jack grumbled.
“What way did he go?”
“I wasn’t watching him.”
“What kind of car? Color? Make?”
“Silver Civic. Older model. That’s all I’ve got.”
It was… something.
But not nearly enough.
“Has he had any women here?”
“No. He’s been… different the past week,” Jack told me, following me outside.
“Different how?”
“Mumbling to himself. Angry. Saying shit about ‘those bitches.’ Whoever those bitches are…”
Bitches.
With an “s.”
Not just Morgaine then.
Had he figured out that Everleigh had hired Morgaine? Had he taken her as well?
“Hey, do you know a chick named Everleigh? Or Bayleigh?” I asked, turning back to Jack.
“Yeah. Everleigh works at the gym. Front desk.”
Front desk?
“Pretty blonde?” I asked.
“That’s her,” Jack agreed, nodding. “Works in the mornings, though,” he said.
And it was damn near the middle of the night.
“Gym desk. Must live in the apartments, not the ‘burbs, right?” I asked, speaking mostly to myself, because I was already running back to my waiting SUV.
“Yo?” Slash asked as I called.
“Does Sway or any of the guys know a chick named Everleigh? Works at the gym?” I asked, hearing him repeat it to the guys.
Sway had slept with a third of the eligible women in town, so I figured if anyone knew where she lived, it might be him.
“Hey, what do you need Everleigh for?” Detroit asked, surprising me.
“I think she or her sister were taken by this Kyle fuck too,” I said, taking the turn toward the apartments.
There was a short pause.
“Apartment building A,” Detroit said. “I drove her home one day when her car broke down. She made a comment about liking living on the top floor because it was quieter. That’s all I got.”
“That’s more than I had before,” I said, pushing harder on the pedal. “If anyone can figure out where Bayleigh, her sister, lives, let me know,” I said, hanging up.
The apartment buildings in town were each identical in structure. Two square buildings set a couple yards apart with a small courtyard between them.
I knew Nyx lived in one of the apartments, but she was in building B, so I didn’t think she’d be much help with Everleigh.
The top floor ended up only having five apartments. And I’d lucked out in running into some guy coming back from the bar, so drunk off his ass that he didn’t even hesitate to point me to the right apartment.
“She’s pretty. Nice pull,” he added as he stumbled into his own place.
“Who is it?” a very hesitant voice asked after I’d been knocking for a minute or two.
“My name is Crow. I’m Morgaine’s… boyfriend,” I said, finding the word awkward on my tongue, but seeing no other way to phrase it. “I think Kyle may have taken her. And possibly—“ I started, trailing off as she fumbled with the locks and yanked the door open, revealing a woman in pink matching pajamas with a sleep mask on her forehead. “And I think Bayleigh might be in trouble too.”
The look on her face was at once horrified and furious.
“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing her keys and rushing out of the apartment in her bare feet.
“Where does Bayleigh live?” I asked as we both ran down the steps, not wanting to wait for the elevator.
“In the suburbs. At the end, though, far from the police station. Should we call them?”
“Maybe. But I think I want a chance to strangle the life out of that motherfucker first,” I said, getting a nod from her.
“I’d wipe the sweat off your brow while you did it,” she said. “I can’t believe this. This is all my fault,” she added as we climbed into the car.