“Nate…” Chantelle whispers next to me, concern thickening in her voice. “Tell me how I can help.”
I just stare at her beautiful face filled with so much worry for me and my daughter. But what am I supposed to say? There is no reach she has that extends further than mine and the man I know to be responsible has eluded me for twenty years. I have kept her in the dark, only vaguely answering any questions she might have about my forcing her to stay.
I am a selfish man with no intention of scaring off the first woman to make me feel like I am alive in nearly thirty years. I will not risk running Chantelle off with the harsh reality of the world I have brought her to.
“Go back to the bedroom,” I command, giving no room for argument.
I need to get things in motion, but I cannot have her here to listen in.
“Do not come out until I get you.”
Chantelle purses her lips, raising her chin. There is a refusal swirling in the depths of her green eyes. Despite my ordering her into isolation she leaves it, knowing this situation is dire. Without another word, clearly pissed that I dismissed her that way, she leaves the room.
As soon as the door latches, I storm to my desk, grab my phone, and pull up Elijah’s contact. Thankfully he answers on the second ring.
“Brother,” he answers in greeting.
I sigh, trying to use the comfort of his voice to calm this storm.
“They found her and took her,” I croak.
Elijah sucks in a breath at my revelation. No further explanation is needed.
“Liam likely stirred up some trouble when it happened. I don’t know the full extent of it.”
Elijah snorts.
“Brenner blood. Of course he did.”
He curses under his breath, then I hear a smash from his side of the phone. The Castello temper is in full swing.
“I’ll handle whatever is going on in North Carolina and get it smoothed out. I’m calling Lion first; he will likely be on his way immediately. I won’t be far behind him. I’m coming, brother.”
He ends the call and I drop the phone. My hands run over my face into my hair and I tug until my roots are screaming in pain. My body shakes, no longer able to hold anything inside. I slam my palms onto the desk, releasing the roar of rage that has built in my chest, upending my desk as things break along with me.
My baby girl is in the hands of a man I cannot reach.
A man who can make her disappear along with him.
3
Liam
Theplane’sreadyfortakeoff when I get to the hangar. The medic I forced to bring me here takes it upon himself to join me on the plane; something about duty and all that bullshit I can’t be bothered to care about right now. He gathers the supplies he needs to make sure I don’t die during the flight, and we leave his partner behind on the tarmac.
Chattering nonstop about what’s going on with my body, he bustles around me, but I just stare ahead, only catching a few words here and there. Now that I’m finally sitting down, the shock has worn off, and the effects of my concussion are starting to settle, I’m able to assess the damage a little better. He said something about hypothermia, but I missed what stage. The bone-deep cold I still feel and the fact that I’ve been shivering and semi-coherent since I woke up tell me it’s pretty mild. My loss of consciousness tells me the concussion is a grade three.
I’ve had enough medical training to know that, in a nutshell, I’m fucked and in for a long haul. I don’t need some medical personnel to tell me what I already know. I just need him to shut the fuck up and give me what I need to stay coherent enough to be of use to Malia.
The flight isn’t long, but the urgency pushing me to get to Maila makes it seem like we’re crawling through the air. Every minute that passes makes it less likely we’ll find her—at least from the viewpoint of law enforcement. With The Omen’s pull in the underground world, it’s hard to know what our chances are but, if Martinez took her, we’re hunting a fucking ghost.
We reach the landing strip, and the medic goes back to fussing. I raise my hand to stop him and he takes a step back at the look in my eye. I didn’t let him come on this trip so he could harass me; I just needed someone around to make sure I didn’t go into cardiac arrest while my body warmed up.
“The pilot will return you. You can stop now,” I grumble, hating people hovering over me, even if it’s their job. “You got me here alive, now you’re free to fuck off.”
“But—“ he starts to argue, stopping when I pull my weapon and place the barrel between his eyes, releasing the trigger.
I tilt my head to the side.