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So, I didn’t even try to keep him out—I rolled out the redcarpet. And now he’s here, smirking like he knows something I don’t, which is dangerous.
Colby’s grin widens, and he points at my chest. “Sorry, did we interrupt something? Please say yes.”
I glance down at my shirt—buttons mismatched, completely out of line. Damn it.
Well, considering I was just about to fuck his sister six ways to Sunday, I force my voice to stay even. “Nothing at all.”
Smart ass.
I brush past him and zero in on Harrison, who’s standing with his arms crossed, gaze fixed on the screen. All of New York City stretches out across the monitors, holding his attention like theQueen’s Gambitchess board.
He doesn’t need to look up to know I’m here. “What’ve you got?” I ask as I step beside him.
Harrison’s focus doesn’t waver, zooming in on a cluster of red dots. “Every place Angi’s been in the last six days. With timestamps. You see what I’m seeing?”
My gut tightens. Yeah, I do.
I lean in, pulse pounding in my ears. Each red dot on the screen feels like a flick to the ear, taunting me, daring us to catch her if we can.
Then, I see the still shots on the other monitor, and my jaw clenches so hard I’m one second away from cracking a tooth.
Angi.
I shove my hands into my pockets, taking her in—head-to-toe leather, hair cascading down to her ass, a Hermès purse that’s definitely stolen, and heels that make it clear wherever she’s headed, she’s not walking there.
She’s still the wild, reckless girl she always was. Still lost.
Emotion slithers up my chest, coiling around me so tight, it’s hard to breathe.
She’s close. Too damn close. “She’s coming home,” I mutter under my breath, trying to steady the rush of nerves.
Colby steps forward, his features strained. “She’s got a handful of places she holes up in. I’ll start there.” His tone is disciplined, almost militant, but I know him too well.
His future’s hanging by a thread, and maybe not just his career, but his freedom, too. And finding Angi is his only way out.
I nod, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “I’ll send a few teams to sweep the areas. We’ll find her. Right, Harrison?”
Harrison’s smirk deepens as his eyes land on my shirt. “What happened? Did the laundry win this round?” He chuckles, eyes gleaming. “Or maybe it’ssomeonewho’s got you all twisted up like a knot?”
I clench my jaw, wedged between the hellcat woman on the screen, and her sister, the one tucked safely away in my house.
My wife.
I fumble with the buttons, fixing my shirt before steering the conversation in the opposite direction. “Speaking of twisted, got a bill in the mail for Roxana Voss’s puke purse.”
Harrison barks out a laugh. “Should I organize a taco sale? Or maybe a GoFundMe?”
I snort. “She’ll get a dime from me when hell freezes over.” My gaze narrows on him, voice dropping. “If you’re here, who’s watching the kids?”
Harrison smiles, pressing the buzzer by the door. The heavy metal slides open, revealing the panic room. The kids aresprawled out in the middle, surrounded by military-grade sleeping bags, lounging with snacks in hand, eyes glued to the latest Marvel flick on the big screen.
“Nice,” I mutter, the corner of my mouth twitching with the hint of a smile. At least someone’s night is all figured out.
By the timeI get home, it’s late, but there’s still time to salvage the night. Unless, of course, Jules is tucked away in bed making love to her new laptop.
I texted her to let her know I was on my way, and not because she asked or because I’m pussy-whipped, though if there’s any part of Jules’s pussy that’s involved, count me in. I did it because I wanted her to know. Being yanked away from her like that, hot and heavy and hard as fucking granite, only makes me more determined.
I want Jules.
