Page 94 of Claimed

I sigh, staring at the dark home. “I think you’re right. You stay here and keep watch for us. Bain, you’re around back, and I’ll look for a window.”

They both nod, then Bain and I silently get out of the SUV and creep across the street, avoiding the light from the street lamps.

I test the front window, but it’s locked, so I move around the side. “Bingo,” I whisper when I see a window open a couple of inches on the second floor. But how to reach it?

I’m pretty sure it’s out of my reach, but I stand below and jump anyway, shocked when I’m easily able to grab the ledge and pull myself up. I push the window up then step inside.

“I’m in, second floor office,” I tell the other two through the bond.

“I’m entering through the back door now,” Bain tells me.

“You look for anyone down there, and I’ll check up here.”

I sniff the air, but all I can smell is Bain. The doctor could have some scent blockers, though, so I quietly make my way through each room, checking every hiding spot I can find: under the bed, in the closet, behind the curtains.

“There’s nobody up here,” I tell Bain when I’m sure I’ve checked everywhere. I can smell what must be Jahan’s scent but it’s old, like he hasn’t been here in days.

“Same down here. I don’t think he’s been here too recently.”

My ears perk up at the sound of a car engine, and I move to one of the front windows.

“Gage?”

“I hear the car too,” he replies instantly. I peek out from behind the curtain and wait as the sound grows louder. When it finally comes into sight, I hold my breath, my eyes widening as it turns into the drive.

“He’s back,” Gage yells through the bond.

“Let him enter, we’ll take him down inside,” I tell them as I find a spot to hide beside the bedroom door, where I can get the jump on him if Bain doesn’t get him first.

“He’s out of his car,” Gage says, as he gives us the play-by-play. “He’s heading to the front door. He doesn’t seem to notice anything strange.”

I hear his key in the lock before Gage tells us, “He’s opening the door and stepping inside. The door is closed now.”

“He’s mine,” Bain says, his voice filled with anger. I don’t bother telling him to be careful. He knows what he’s doing, and I know he won’t accidentally kill the man before we can confirm his identity.

I hear the floorboards creak under Jahan’s feet. Then light floods the hall as he switches on the downstairs light. I hear the fridge open, then the sound of him choking.

“Got him,” Bain says gleefully through the bond.

As I make my way downstairs, I hear Gage enter through the front door and lock it behind him. I double-check all the curtains are still drawn before I join Bain in the kitchen. He’s just finishing tying Jahan to a kitchen chair that he’s pulled into the middle of the open space.

There’s duct tape across his mouth, and he’s squirming around trying to scream and break free. He redoubles his efforts when he sees Gage and me approach.

Bain and Gage stand at his sides as I stand right in front of him, my hands relaxed in my pockets as I assess him. He looks ordinary. Not how I would expect a psychopath to look. Then again, don’t they say they’re often the people you least expect?

Looking at Gage, I nod, telling him through the bond, “Take the photo and send it to the others in the group chat.” He immediately pulls out his phone and snaps a shot before he starts typing.

I stare at the guy as I try not to fidget. When Cherry confirms this is him, that’s when the fun really begins. Bain has already laid out in detail the things he wants to do to this man. I’m not one for torture, but after what this man put our mate through for ten fucking years, he deserves everything coming to him.

My fingers twitch with anticipation. And as seconds turn to minutes, I finally turn to Gage. “Haven’t they answered yet?”

He shakes his head, frowning at his screen. “No. I’ll send another message.” I watch as he types and hits send, and we all stand there, silently waiting for his phone to ping. But nothing happens.

“Call them,” I tell him impatiently when another minute goes by. He presses a button and brings it to his ear. By the frown on his face, I already know what he’s going to say. “No answer.”

“Maybe they went to sleep,” I say, but it seems unlikely. Even if it is close to midnight. But that’s the only reason I can think of why they wouldn’t be answering.

Bain, clearly done with waiting, steps forward and starts checking the man’s pockets. He pulls out a phone and a wallet, tossing the phone to Gage and the wallet to me.