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Relief filled him that he didn’t see any signs of her injured or even worse—dead.
Whoever had come in here had definitely wanted to send a message. Rhys raised his gun and went to her bathroom. It too was empty. Now filled with anger, he stormed out of the room.
Who the fuck had done this, and where was Jordan?
Was she taken?
He glanced once more around her room, and it was then he saw the knife sticking out of the wall. He moved over to it and didn’t see anything else. That knife had held something in place, but it was no longer there. There were small pieces of paper still embedded into the wall around the knife.
Rhys already knew what had happened.
Jordan had come home. Found her room in a mess, saw the note, took it, and went wherever the person had instructed.
“Son of a bitch,” he cursed.
Rhys knew Jordan like the back of his hand. He was sure wherever she had gone off to, she hadn’t taken backup. He spun on his heel and took his phone from his pocket. He dialed her number. Again, it went straight to voicemail. He stalked his way out of her room and took the stairs.
Who the hell did he call?
Did he phone her sister?
No, if she were in trouble, she wouldn’t tell Omara.
He went into the living room and didn’t care about the lights now. Whoever had been in the house was long gone, even before Jordan had got home. He turned on lamp in the corner and stood in the middle of the room. His gaze landed on the shelves of her television stand and took in photos of Jordan with her family and her team members. He spotted a photo of Jordan standing next to Mac. They were decked out in their SWAT gear and looked as if they had just come back from a mission. They were sweaty and covered in filth. Jordan had a wide grin while Mac had his infamous scowl present as if he were being made to take the picture against his will.
Rhys’s attention landed on Mac.
His woman was as stubborn as they got. Would she turn to Mac if she were in trouble? It was a hard pill to swallow to think she would contact another man before him.
But then he thought again.
Jordan’s stubborn ass wouldn’t call anyone. She would try to handle whatever problem there was on her own. Rhys brought up Mac’s number and hovered over it. Should he speak to him? Would he know anything?
The sound of a car engine appeared off in the distance and grew closer. Lights flashed from the car entering the driveway. Rhys slid his phone back in his pocket and stalked to the front door. The air outside grew silent again once the engine was turned off. The slam of a door echoed through the air.
Rhys cursed and unlocked the front door and threw it open.
Jordan stood on the other side of the screen door with her drawn gun pointed at him. He stared at her, and she appeared unharmed.
“Rhys?” Her voice squeaked. She lowered the weapon and stared at him. She recovered quickly and blinked before sliding her gun into her purse. “I could have shot you.”
He ignored her and opened the screen door and grabbed her by her wrist. He pulled her inside and slammed the door shut. He had to feel her for himself to make sure she wasn’t injured in any way.
“Where the hell have you been?” He grunted. He used his free hand to assess her body. He still carried his gun in his other one. Rhys didn’t find any cuts or bruises on her smooth skin. He grasped her chin and turned her head from side to side, looking for any blemishes.
“What are you doing?” Jordan batted his hand away.
His hand fell, but his heart was still lodged in his throat. Her hand went to his chest, and she tried to push him back, but he maintained his position.
“Rhys, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” He growled. He slid his gun in the back of his jeans. Was she serious? She was supposed to have been at his house hours ago. She’d come home after being MIA and she’d questioned why he was at her house?
His temper boiled over.
“Did you forget telling me that you weren’t going to be long? We had dinner reservations! You haven’t answered your phone, and then I come here to find your bedroom ransacked and a fucking knife embedded in your wall!” Rhys shouted.
Jordan leaned back against the door, her eyes wide. He was never one to lose his cool, but this was warranted. For all he knew, she could have been dead somewhere, and here she was, strolling home like nothing was wrong.
