“No,” I said. “Please no.”
“It’s gonna be a long, dirty, slow fucking ride, baby girl,” he said. “Just as well the drummer ain’t back until morning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lucian
Iwas pacinglike a madman when the cab finally showed up on the street outside Spirit Club. I was a charging bull when I leapt forward in my seat and told the driver who I was.
As soon as he heard the name Morelli, he put his foot on the gas.
Every second felt like a year on that journey. The tracker was in some house down on the west side. Another hovel on top of a hovel.
The tracker didn’t move a meter the whole journey.
“Come on,” I snarled at the driver. “Faster.”
He couldn’t go any faster. There were drunken assholes in the street singing and swaying across the road when we tried to pass them. So I did it. I used the Morelli title to get me what I wanted, regardless of the cost. I ordered the cab driver to run the assholes down, but he was a statue in his damn seat until I barked at him.
“Drive, you bastard. Drive even if you have to run them over.”
The cab screeched forward, and the men bailed out of the way.Good call, asshole.
“Faster!” I snapped again, and the driver nodded.
He pulled up outside the house so fast that the brakes slammed and sent me lurching forward. I didn’t care. I was already scrambling out of there. I threw some money into the front of the cab, and it pulled away at full acceleration.
It was a house party, and I went straight up to the front door of the shithole, elbowing my way past fools and storming my way toward Elaine.
Because that’s what she was.
She wasmyElaine.MyElaine Constantine.
I barged my way through the final few partiers, plowing into a mess of a kitchen space, but she wasn’t there. There was a green-haired woman standing where the tracker was pointing me, and one shove of her aside told me all I needed to know.
Elaine’s clutch bag was on the sideboard amongst the beer bottles.
My blood froze in my veins.
I grabbed it and looked inside. Everything was still in there—phone, keys, and cash.
Where the hell was she?
I gripped that clutch tight and charged around that place like a maniac, looking in every single damn space and shadow on the ground floor. I grabbed people and barked out the questions,where is she? Where the fuck is she?until the whole place was on edge, looking at me. I didn’t fucking care. All I cared about was that pretty little fool.
I climbed the stairs, leaping over people fondling each other on the landing, shoving some of them aside. If she was up there…if she was up there and sucking his cock…my blood boiled at the thought.
The first bedroom I burst into had girls giggling on the bed with a wine bottle being slugged between them. The second had couples littered all over it, grunting and fucking. The third bedroom was in darkness, and I pawed for the light. No sign of my pretty fool, but Tristan was in there with his mouth around his loverboy’s dick.
He recognized me.
Tristan recognized me.
The Blue Hawk freak rocker let out a groan of afuck you, fuck off out of here, but I was already on him, shoving him down onto the floor.
I was on Tristan in a heartbeat, my face right up to his as I held her clutch up high.
“Where the fuck is she?”