“Mrs. Vallin did a good job of losing me, sir.” It was Vic again.
It was sir, or boss when they knew their asses were on the line. My threat to kill him had him doing everything possible to make up for losing track of Mecca.
Truth of the matter was, I was starting to think that not even I, if I were tasked with it, could keep up with her.
“She disabled the tracker on the inside of the car, but the extra one you personally installed is still working,” he confirmed.
The men knew I had put an extra tracking device on all the cars, so that no matter which car she decided to use, I would at least have an idea of the last place she’d driven to. I was a stress headache away from tagging her hard-headed ass with a body tracker.
She obviously knew her way around any type of tracking devices because she disabled or found a way to scramble them each time she wanted to be left alone. It was pure luck that the last one I had decided to put in her car was still there.
“The vehicle appears to have stopped deep in a wooded area, half up the Dead Plains Mountain, and surrounded by miles of trees and not much else. Sir, she is out in the middle of nowhere.”
After receiving the update on her whereabouts, all I saw was flames flaring around my heart, mind, and soul if something happened to her.
She was putting her life in serious jeopardy to sneak around to a secluded wooded location. Was it stupid of me to suspect that she may have been sneaking around with another man? Did she have me so wrapped up in her that the idea had never crossed my mind before now? Why else would she sneak off to a secret location in the middle of mountainous woods?
The more the ideas swirled in my head, the more upset I became. I drove up the curvy, desolate stretch of road in a maddening rush, the wheels on my Mercedes, along with the suspension, screaming their protest along the highway.
If Mecca was up there with a man, he had better enjoy his last breaths of air. She could drag a woman around the house, force me to wait until she was ready to be with me, but this was how she was treating me?
Her car was parked out in front of the quaint little cabin. Fumes of rage billowed off of me in thick plumes as I cocked my weapon, snatched the door handle, and jumped out of my car.
My eyes were bugged while scanning the area with my mind going haywire. Mecca Vallin was one hardheaded woman. It was like she had no regard for her life. When was she going to get it through that thick head of hers that she wasn’t safe? From anyone. Not even her lover.
All types of goblins and ghouls would try every trick in the book to make her as vulnerable as she would allow herself to be. Sure, she was a desirable woman, any man with eyes could see as much, but she was wanted for more than her devilishly tempting body and winning personality.
“Dammit, stop giving her compliments,” I reminded myself in a low annoyed grunt. I was, after all, prepared to take a life over her. My fingers brushed across my lips, wet with what I’m sure was the foam from the over-accumulation of anger I was producing.
I crept onto the wraparound porch that presented a scenic view of the creek nestled between trees and mountainous hills to the front and towards the west. The setting was a romantic one that was about to be infected with the horrific scene I was set to create.
The wood structure of the cabin was solid, no creaks or tethered parts, an indication that the place wasn’t that old. I didn’t go straight for the front door, instead, I headed to the side window which provided a view of movement and dancing shadows through the thin drapes.
Tilting my head, my eyes narrowed as grunting sounds drew my attention. Was that someone moaning? They had fifty seconds left to live, because dead was what they were about to be since I was killing them.
Had Mecca ever truly given any thought to who I was before she married me?