“You gave this to Devon?” Trey asked, shocked but grateful.
“Yeah. Didn’t expect her to use it, but I told her you’d want her to have it, just in case.”
Trey launched himself at Adam, throwing his arms around him the way he and Cade had embraced earlier. “You are awesome.”
Reacting as expected, Adam shoved him off and started for the front door. “Damn, dude. Let’s go get your girl.”
“How do we find her location?” Cade questioned, scrolling through the information on his smart phone.
Adam replied, “A text should give us coordinates. See, mine just sent me the GPS location.”
Trey snatched the phone out of Adam’s hand, ensuring their phones synced, then he handed it back to his cousin. He told Cade, “Let’s go.”
Adam called after him, “I’ll get my guys from the motorcycle club. We’ll give you backup.”
Though he didn’t reply, Trey silently thanked his cousin. He hopped into the Porsche with Cade, who shoved the gear into reverse, peeled out of his driveway, and sped down the road toward Devon.
He hoped to God he wouldn’t be too late. If anything happened to her…
Fear twisted his reality and he shut that thought out of his mind. Because if anything happened to her, he’d commit murder. Or die trying.
Cade raced against the clock, though every minute seemed to last an eternity. Worry racked him. He couldn’t sit still and, even in a Porsche, Cade couldn’t drive fast enough. Through the side mirror, he watched Adam and Liam veer off at an intersection, and he appreciated their run for backup.
Speaking of backup, he called Logan. “Man, something’s wrong. It’s Devon. She’s in danger.”
The sound of shuffling came from Logan’s end, and then the background noise quieted. “Where are you?”
“Driving downtown with Cade.” Veering onto a backstreet to avoid traffic, his brother took the curve sharply. He grabbed the door to steady himself.
“Where is she?”
“Don’t know. She sent us an SOS signal and we’re following the GPS coordinates.”
“What do you need?” Logan asked, his tone tense and focused.
“Police presence, just in case. Do you have a guy on the force you trust? Who won’t care if this is a false alarm?”
“Any of them would, but yeah, I’ve got a good friend who’ll give you backup fast. Can you give me a location?”
“Not yet.” He leaned forward when he caught sight of Devon’s Prius parked outside a converted warehouse. “That’s her car,” he told Cade.
They changed lanes cutting off a driver. Cade aligned his car with the curb, slammed on his breaks and cut the engine.
“Here’s the address.” Rattling off the numbers to Logan, he and Cade raced inside. He waited for Logan to confirm and then ended the call.
“Shit. Her signal just died.” Trey shook his phone like that would make her beacon reappear on the screen.
Cade stated, “I’ll take the bottom two floors, you take the top two.”
With a nod, he parted ways with his brother, bolting up the cement staircase. “Devon,” he shouted, his voice bouncing off the concrete like a pinball.
Frantically searching the third floor, he pounded on doors and called her name.
A man emerged wearing glasses and scrubs. “What’s the matter?” he asked with clinical detachment, like an ER doctor used to calm patients plagued by fear.
“My girl is in this building. She’s in trouble. I need to find her,” Trey explained.
“I’ll check with neighbors,” the man said with a slight Indian accent. “But many of these lofts are used as businesses. Not a lot of people here off-hours.”
“Thanks,” Trey said, darting up to the fourth floor. That information helped, narrowing his door-to-door search to lofts without a company nameplate.
A shriek echoed through the hallway, but got lost in the high ceilings, leaving him directionless. “Devon!”
No response. Dragging his hands through his hair, he didn’t know which way to turn.
The sound of a gunshot ricocheted in his skull. He tore down the hall toward the door at the end. He pounded with his fists. “Devon! Are you okay?”
Please, God, let her be okay.
“Trey?” The sweet sound of her voice was muted by the thick steel door blocking him from getting to her.
The doctor arrived a few seconds later with a man in a maintenance uniform. “She’s inside,” Trey told them.
The maintenance guy produced a giant ring loaded with keys. When he picked out one, Trey grabbed the key, jammed it into the lock and burst through the door.
In the dim light, he saw Devon standing in the center of room, terror stamped on her pale face, a gun shaking in her hand. Her haunted gaze connected with his and he rushed to her side.
Carefully sliding the gun from her stiff fingers, he set it on the counter and grabbed her in his arms. “I didn’t mean to shoot him,” she said against his chest. “He gave me no choice.”
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe.” He gripped her tight and stroked her hair, then glanced around trying to piece together what had happened.
A laptop lay open on the floor, its screen cracked. He saw the SOS thumb drive in the USB port and mentally praised Adam for the life-saving invention. A strange collection of items scattered across a glass desk, what looked like a wig, a bizarre set of teeth and a thick pair of glasses. Four cell phones reflected the blue light from the row of monitors. What the hell?
Cade dashed in through the open door. “I heard a gunshot. You guys okay?”
Trey nodded. Then the cloying scent of fresh blood reached his nostrils.
The doctor crouched, inspecting someone lying prone in the shadows. “He’s not okay,” the doctor said, applying pressure to the shoulder injury of his impromptu patient. “I need to call a bus.” He dialed 9-1-1 on his cell.
A pain-filled moan rose up from the floor. Suddenly, red haze clouded Trey’s vision. “You son of a bitch,” he snarled. And lunged.
Cade caught him, held him back. He fought his brother’s grip, crazed with the lust for vengeance. “Let it go, man,” Cade said through clenched teeth. “He’s down. Damage is done.”
Eventually, Cade’s logic pierced the angry red film and he stopped fighting. The figure on the floor muttered, “This…is…your fault.”
Devon stepped forward, her eyes snapping. “Grow up and take responsibility for once in your life, Zander.”