Page 128 of The Beast

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The call came at 6:47 AM.

Gabriel was in the ring at The Beast, sparring with one of his trainers, trying to burn off the restless energy that had been crawling under his skin since he’d left Bella at the penthouse. He hadn’t slept. Hadn’t even tried. Just paced his apartment until the walls started closing in, then came down here to hit something.

It wasn’t working. Every punch he threw, he saw her face. Every combination, he heard her voice. I need time to think. Time to decide if loving each other is enough.

He should have stayed at the tower. Should have fought harder. Should have found the words to make her understand that he’d already chosen—had chosen her the moment he decided to believe in her innocence, had been choosing her every day since, even when he didn’t know how to show it.

His phone buzzed against the bench where he’d left it. He ignored it. Threw another combination. Ducked a counter punch.

It buzzed again. And again. And again.

“Boss.” His trainer stepped back, dropping his hands. “Might be important.”

Gabriel caught his breath. Looked at the screen.

Harper. Four missed calls in three minutes. And as he stood there, a text from her. 911.

Something cold slithered through his gut. He snatched up the phone and pounded the button to call her back.

“Oh, thank god.” Harper’s voice was wrong. Tight. Scared. As if she was trying very hard to hold herself together. “Bella’s gone. I think someone took her.”

The world stopped.

“What are you talking about?”

“I got back to the penthouse, and she wasn’t here. Her purse, her keys, everything’s still here. Just not her. So I used that location service thing, and her last location was the parking garage.”

Harper’s breath hitched. “I went down to check. Oh, god, Gabe, her phone is on the floor. Smashed. Like someone stomped on it.”

Fear and fury poured through him. And the beast woke up.

He made it to Grimm Tower in seven minutes. It would have been faster if he hadn’t hit every red light on the way, if his hands hadn’t been shaking so badly that he’d nearly sideswiped a delivery truck.

The parking garage was dim and cold, fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like insects. Harper was already there, standing near the elevator bank, her face pale and drawn.

“Where?” Gabriel demanded.

She didn’t answer. Just turned and led him deeper into the garage, past rows of luxury cars, past the reserved spaces with their brass nameplates, to a spot near the exit ramp.

And there, on the concrete floor, was Bella’s phone.

“I didn’t think I should touch it,” Harper said as he bent to pick it up, using a tissue just in case there were prints.

“You did good.” He managed to keep the words level, despite the rage roiling through him. Not aimed at Harper. No, this rage was aimed at Sterling Hart and the flunkies who’d taken her. At the bastards he was going to kill.

“Security cameras.” His voice came out steady. Controlled. He had to hold onto that control if he was going to get her back. “This building has security cameras.”

“I called,” Harper said. “They’re pulling the footage now. He said to come to the security office when you got here.”

He nodded, then held out his hand, then pulled her close and wrapped her in a hug. “Tell me she’s going to be okay,” he said.

“She will,” Harper whispered. “Of course, she will. Have I ever lied to you?”

“Not and gotten away with it.”

She laughed, then rose up to kiss his cheek before cupping his face in her hands. “No tears,” she said.