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Tor clears his throat. “Okay, keep your head straight. I’ll call my people. I’ll call Chance. We’ll find him. But Cyrus, if she doesn’t want to be with you, if she’s made her choice, you have to respect that.”
The fuck I do. The fuck I will.
“Really? So, you’re telling me if Natalie had given you the shove off you would have just politely bowed out?” He answers with loud silence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
I’m not going to respect anything. She doesn’t want to marry him but something smells like shit and she’s stuck, I can feel it.
One way or another, I’m getting her out of this and I’m doing it today.
“It’ll be fine,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to convince myself, knowing nothing about this will ever be fine if anything happens to her.
“Good. Pick me up on the way to the house. I’ll get Chance here. We’ve got your back, little brother.”
I drove my Suburban right through the fucking front gate of her parent’s house when my attempt to be buzzed through failed. Now, it’s me against the front door and lucky for it, after pounding for thirty seconds it opens a crack.
“Where the fuck is she?”
I slam my foot into the door jamb before the house manager can shut me out, then lean all my weight into the door, pushing him back so hard he stumbles.
Even in my fury, I catch him before he can fall, setting him right. This isn’t his fault, even if every nerve is screaming for someone to blame.
“I can’t tell you that. Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“She isn’t in the guesthouse. I already looked. So where is she? Anna!” I call out to the ceiling, but there’s no response. I know she isn’t here. I can feel it. I just can’t feel where she is.
Chance is suddenly right beside me, his fist gripping the manager’s collar. “You think he’s scary? Now it’s my turn. If you don’t tell us what we want to know, you little shit…”
The manager squeals and flails, and I watch with satisfaction. Chance won’t hurt him. He’s a gentle giant. But he looks like a fucking walking nightmare and if this guy knows anything, he’ll spill.
“I don’t—please! They went, all of them. Oh, God, I don’t know anything!”
“Cyrus, I’m getting a call, man. One of my PIs. They must have something.”
I glare at the house manager, but fall silent as I listen to Tor speaking into his phone. He starts to grin part way through, and glances our way, shooting me an okay sign. When he signs off, he nods, then turns back to the door.
“Let’s go. I’m going to call in a favor. We’ve got a location. And a name. And I think we might just have leverage.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re through the iron gate at another estate. This one bigger, older, more fortified, but it’s not going to matter.
I slam my foot against the carved wood next to the iron door handle and the door cracks on the first kick, the lock buckling as it flies open.
There’s a group of about ten people standing in a living room to the left and they all spin and look my way.
There’s the priest, up front with a book open in front of him, eyes wide, as me and Tor and Chance step inside. No guns, we don’t need them, especially with the sheriff following us inside.
“What the hell is this? This is a private wedding!” The groom—the guy Tor told me is called Alex—looks like a furious overgrown Umpa Loompa as he turns to Anna’s father. “If you did this, I’m going to—”
“Don’t say another word, sir,” the sheriff warns, his hand on the butt of his revolver. “I’ll add terrorist threats to whatever else you’re going to be charged with.”
Anna looks frightened as she looks from Alex to her dad and back, then hisses at me, “You can’t be here. Go. Please. You don’t understand. You’re making this so much worse.”
I shake my head, ignoring her for the moment as I start towards her. She’s still glancing nervously at the groom, who I hope never got as far as saying “I do” or there’ll be hell to pay. She doesn’t understand what’s going on here, but she will. Very soon, she will.
I shove my body between them, knocking him back with my ass and grabbing Anna by the back of the neck. “Tell me you didn’t vow anything to this fuck.”
“No. But that’s not… You have to go, Cyrus,” she whispers. “I’m marrying Alex. You have to let me do this, you have no idea what this is.”
“Get him out of here!” The groom yells toward his goons standing by staring at the Sheriff and the two deputies that have just charged through the door. “It’s none of your fucking business,” He says but I’m done with him. I ball my fist and cock back, throwing all my weight behind the punch, knocking him backward then deliver another uppercut, then one into his gut as he yelps and doubles over. I glance over to see Tor stepping forward with the sheriff’s hand on his gun, shaking his head as his security guys back out of the room.
