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We rush inside, and the atmosphere in the place is thick. Tension filled and alert. The eyes on everyone are determined. Not many people stick around all night, so a lot of these people I’m sure came in on a moment's notice, ready to work and do their job.
Some pass me sympathetic glances. Worried. I ignore them all, paying no mind as I follow behind Easton towards Rich’s office. Easton doesn’t even knock, bursting through the door and shutting it behind me. “What have you found out?” He asks, and Rich and Hugo look up from where they’re looking at the computer.
It’s been two hours since Rose talked to Cara. Potentially two hours since Cara has been kidnapped. That means that Cara could be in Wisconsin, near the Iowa border, or in South Dakota. Possibly headed to Canada. We don’t know where they’re going, and we don’t have much more time to find out.
“We’ve got a couple PI’s on the case. They’re in a newer Lexus. SUV. Black, with tinted windows. Headed on 35 towards Iowa. I bet they’re headed towards Texas. That’ll be their quickest access to the border.”
“How do you know?” I bark out, anxiety making my heart race. I’ve been listening to my heart bear in my ears for the last hour and I’m starting to get a splitting headache.
“Look.” Hugo turns one of Rich’s monitors, and I watch as they pull up to a Shell gas station. Two large Hispanic men step out, dressed in all black with sunglasses on (in the middle of the night? Fucking idiots). I’m about to ask why they think that Cara’s with them, since I don’t see her anywhere. But once one of them is finished pumping gas, he opens up the door, and my rage engulfs me.
I only catch a glimpse, but that’s all I need. A glimpse of Cara’s head on the ground of the vehicle. Her hair is splayed out around her. She’s either drugged and sleeping or got knocked out. Knocked out, I presume, because her face is covered in blood.
I lean forward, picking up a pencil holder and chucking it at the wall. Pencils and pens fly and clatter to the ground in an eruption of writing utensils. I lean down, grabbing my gun from the ankle holster strapped around my leg. I cock it, loading a bullet into the chamber. “What the fuck are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
Rich steps forward. “I’ve already called Lynx. They’re on their way towards the Texas Charter. We have one of our PI’s trying to catch up with them. We’ll find them. Hugo, I think you and Easton should head that way. I’ve got a load of men strapping up and will be right behind you. Jackson, I think it might be best if you stick with me.”
The madness has reached my head, because I lift my arm and point the gun at Rich. “You’ll have to bury me under cement to keep me from going after Cara. I’m going with Easton.”
His nostrils flare as he stares me down. Anger pulls at his lips and I know he’s fighting between laying into me and standing down.
“Put the fucking gun down, Jackson.” Rich barks at me.
“I’m not fucking staying here.” I growl.
“You are if you don’t fucking listen to me! I’ll throw you in the fucking basement if you don’t put that God damned gun down right now!” He roars, slamming his fist into his desk. Everything shakes and rattles. With a deep breath, I lower the gun, placing it on my lap, my finger still wrapped around it tightly.
He takes a deep breath and stares at me. “I understand you’re stressed. We all are. Cara is and has always been family to all of us. We will find her. But don’t, for even a half of a second, think that you can point a fucking gun at me. I run this shit, and as long as I’m standing in this office, I will run this business. This is your last and final warning; don’t you ever point a gun at me again. Do I make myself clear?”
I swallow, anger abating if at least for a second. “Yes, sir.”
He nods. “Go with Easton and Hugo. If you get killed over this, I will stand on your grave and terrorize your ass. You will wish you were alive to escape me. But if you think with your fucking head, you can still save Cara. Get in the fucking truck and go save her.”
My nostrils flare, and I give him a nod. Turning around, I make my way to the door and open it. Looking over my shoulder, I say, “Thanks, sir.” I turn to Easton. “I’m going to go get my girl. You fucking coming?”
