Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Cole Dosset stands at the bottom of the stairs and looks up at me with a lethal smile. My blood turns to ice.
“Good morning, Brynn,” he says. “Lovely day, eh?”
11
CHAPTER 11
BURKE
Ipark in front of the cabin, then climb out… and immediately know something’s wrong. I bound up the stairs, through the open door, and into the house. Glass is broken, furniture is turned over, and everything is in disarray.
“Brynn!” I call out, my heart pounds. “Brynn!”
My only answer is silence and a suffocating heaviness. Brynn is gone—taken. It seems impossible—it should be fucking impossible—but somehow, Cole found us.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter darkly, chewing on the word.
Dashing upstairs, I head to the office I have at the back of the cabin and throw the door open. Everything here is still intact. It looks like the fight and Brynn’s abduction took place on the ground floor. I don’t know how they found me. This cabin isn’t listed in my name. To find out that I’m the owner, Cole has to be very well-connected. He has to have friends in high places.
Knowing that he was able to find out that this is my place disturbs me. It makes me want to take him off the board completely just for that.
But that he took Brynn makes me want to not just take him off the board but make him feel it. Go slow with him. Then bury him in a shallow grave somewhere. It had to have been him. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.
I sit down at my desk and draw a deep breath, trying to calm myself enough to focus. I need to clear my mind. Think calmly and think straight. If I’m going to get her back, I need to be calm. Collected. I need to be smart. Think.
“Settle the fuck down,” I tell myself.
I blow out a long breath and think about the situation. I close my eyes and play the game I always force myself to play when I’m stressed. Question and answer. I force my mind to focus so I can lay out the right questions. I need to put the pieces together. Can I figure this shit out? The scene downstairs is confused. Chaotic. But the answers are there. Must be there.
The door hadn’t been kicked in—not that it could have been, given the steel core. They hadn’t come through the windows—they’re all shatterproof. That means she opened the door for them. Why in the fuck would she open the door for them? Because she didn’t know it was them. She thought it was me coming home.
She’d opened it up to greet me and then realized too late it was Cole. She’d tried to retreat but couldn’t get the door closed. She tried to fight them, but there were probably too many. I have to think Cole sent more men this time. But how did Cole find my cabin? I shake my head. Doesn’t matter. I can worry about that later. All that matters right now is figuring out where she is.
I stand and hurry around the cabin. Eyes wide.
First, the bedroom. Her purse is still sitting on the table where she’d left it last night.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
I search the room a little closer. Her towel is still damp, telling me she took a shower. Her bag is open, and it looks like some of her clothes are missing, which means she got dressed.
Good.
I look around a little more but don’t find what I’m looking for. Then, a spark of hope ignites in my chest. Her shoes are gone.
Very good.
Not being one who takes chances and knowing we were being hunted by a ruthless piece of shit, I chipped almost everything—shoes, jacket, purse. Just in case something like this happened to Brynn. Her purse and jacket are still here, but her shoes are not. Hopefully, she’s wearing them.
I run back to my office, drop into my chair, then open my laptop. I’m bouncing my foot and drumming my fingers on the desktop as I wait for my computer to boot up.
“Come on, come on,”
My start screen pops up, and I quickly key in my password. Once my desktop appears, I quickly navigate to my tracking program and enter my password to open it up.
“Okay, let’s go,” I tell myself.
I open up the active trackers, silently praying that the ones I planted in her shoes are online. I select the correct tracker, I click on it and let out a breath of relief when I see it online. Clicking on the icon, I pull it up on a map and see they’re on the move.
“Got you, fuckers” I hiss.
I jump up and dash to the bookcase, then open the cabinet. Press my hand to the biometric scanner, wait for it to flash green, then enter my code. With a click, it unlocks, and I open it up, pulling out the pair of Glocks and the extra magazines I have stored inside. I toss them in a bag, then scoop up my laptop and rush out. I bound down the stairs, two at a time, straight through the front door and out into my car.