SEAMUS
There are no issues with the delivery. Everything went smoothly, and Paddy has managed to keep his fucking mouth shut for the last two hours.
I insist on driving, Niall sliding into the front seat, so Paddy is relegated to the back. I catch the look on his face as he climbs into the car. He knows I want to drive to get home to Tig as quickly as I can, but he knows what is good is for him, because he holds his tongue.
We are halfway back to the house when my phone rings. I punch to answer it through the SUV’s Bluetooth.
“Liam, what’s up?” I ask, and my world stops.
“Tiggy’s gone.”
That gets the attention of the entire fucking car.
“What do you mean she’s gone?” I bark.
He starts talking, panic in his tone. “There was a blast in the backyard. I checked it out, and it looked like someone lobbed a firework in. When I went back inside to let Tiggy know it was a false alarm, the front door was wide open, and she was gone.”
Jesus fucking fuck! Where the fuck could she be? I punch the steering wheel. Paddy chooses this exact moment to scoff.
I have never wanted to kill my best mate before, but right now, I will fucking put a bullet in his brain if he makes one comment.
Liam’s next words wipe the smug ‘I told you so’ smirk right off Paddy’s face.
“There’s a lot of blood.”
The engine roars, and the tires squeal as I slam my foot down, willing the SUV to go faster as we fly toward the house.
The smell of burning rubber fills the air as the SUV fishtails to a sudden stop at the curb. I shove out of the vehicle in the blink of an eye, storming into the house.
Liam is waiting for us at the front door, looking like he wants to fucking murder someone. Join the fucking club, lad. My knees buckle when I stalk into the kitchen. I wince as they hit the tiled floor, my legs giving out.
The knife Tig was using to dice vegetables for her meatballs lies in the middle of a pool of blood. A bloody handprint is smeared on one of the white cabinets, and a trail of blood leads out to the front door. I didn’t even notice it in my rush to get inside.
“Tiggy’s handprint,” Niall says, crouching over the pool of blood and examining the mark on the cabinet. I’m shaking with rage. No. Not Tig. Please, not Tig. She’s not dead. She can’t be. A world without Tig in it wouldn’t have a shining sun.
“Fucking find her!” I howl at no one in particular.
“What about the phone I gave you this morning?” Connor asks from near the door into the hallway, his face ashen. “Does she have it yet? Can we track it?”
The phone. Thank Christ.
“I gave it to her this morning,” I grit out, climbing to my feet, flexing my hands. I want to rip someone’s head off. I will burn the fucking city down to get to Tig. Hell, I will burn the fucking world down if I have to.
Connor holds his hand out for my phone, asking if I turned on the GPS and ‘find my phone’ feature. I look over at Ronan, who sorted the phone for me, and he nods. Connor stops tapping around on the phone, standing stock still.
“What?” I snap at him. His eyes are uneasy as they fly up to meet mine.
“Tiggy just texted you,” he replies. Relief courses through me as I snatch the phone off him.
TIG: Come get me stud, if you’re man enough.
As I stare at the message, frowning, an address comes through. Tig has never called me ‘stud’ the entire time we’ve been together. Is it a message? Is she trying to send me a message to tell me where she is?
Paddy plucks the phone from my nerveless fingers, snorting as he reads the message.
“You’re sure that’s blood?” he asks Niall, who slicks a finger through it, rubbing it between this thumb and forefinger, sniffing it.
“Definitely blood, definitely fresh.”