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“Thanks, Beau.”
“Need me to come with you?”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.” I stood, set Macy on her feet, and took a second to smooth the skirt of her dress down. “I have to go.”
“What’s wrong?” She gripped my arm.
“Someone just spotted Warner.”
20
COLT
When I pulled into the industrial area in Bucktown, I scanned around. The gym was in a long, rectangular building, divided up for various businesses. I saw several cars parked outside the MMA gym, that had a red sign above the door with a logo of two gloved hands.
I watched one man exit the gym, carrying a bag over his shoulder. I really hoped Warner was here, so I could finally get Macy safe, and stop her worrying.
As I’d left the office, I’d called Reath to keep an eye on her. His security team was only a few doors away, and he had a camera at the front of my office.
I parked my Suburban, turned off the engine and waited. Lots of my job involved waiting. Watching, waiting for my prey to make mistakes so I could nab them. I’d learned to be still and quiet as a kid, while my parents were high, partying, or fighting. My hands flexed on the steering wheel. I was doing everything in my power to ensure Daisy never, ever had to be still and quiet, simmering in her fear.
More people came and went from the gym. None were Warner.
In my head, I relived touching Macy in my office. She was so responsive. Every sound and move she made was burned into my brain.
I want to know what good sex is like. Really good sex with lots of orgasms. Sex that’s a little rough, a little wild.
I groaned. I wanted to give her that. And I sure as hell didn’t want anyone else touching her.
“Focus on finding Warner first,” I muttered.
First, I needed her safe.
Shoving the door open, I sliced out of my SUV and headed toward the gym. It was a hot, humid day. Typical for New Orleans. A teenager with earbuds in slunk past me, head down, and backpack over one shoulder.
As I neared the gym door, a gun shot rang out.
Chips of concrete hit my legs as the bullet hit near my feet. Then I was moving. There were more shots, bullets hitting the building behind me.
I dived, and rolled, and slid in behind a parked truck. I glanced back, but the teenager was out of sight. Thank fuck.
More gunfire. I heard it hitting the truck body, and glass shattered.
Where are you, asshole?It sounded like whoever had the gun was firing from a distance.
More bullets pinged on the vehicle I was using for cover. I listened, gauging the direction.
I pulled my SIG, and waited for a pause. Then I popped up and fired.
Bam. Bam.
I ducked back down. There was another barrage of gunfire, then silence.
I smiled grimly. I’d spooked him.
Whoever my shooter was, he was a shit shot.
I heard the screech of tires and peered over the hood of the truck. I spotted a silver car speeding out of the lot. Sedan. Too far away for me to catch the plates.
