Chapter Thirty-Four
The door into the warehouse crept open. Allie lifted her head, and her gaze locked with Wyatt’s. Her eyes watered.
He rushed toward her and kneeled in front of her. “Alyssa? Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head then managed to whisper, “No.”
“Why are you upset?”
She swallowed. “How long have I been here?”
He turned to the two men who responded, “Nine hours.”
Wyatt faced her. “You hungry?”
Hungry? No! She was scared, shaking, and she wanted to go home to Jace. Saying it would be suicide, so instead, she took a deep breath. “I’m not hungry. I’m tired, and I’m scared. Ty is worried about me—”
“Don’t fucking mention him,” he snapped. “Or your lover. They took you away from me, and they beat me. I was in the hospital for a week, Alyssa. I had a cast on for a month and a half. They’re animals.”
“They didn’t take you away from me, Wyatt. I left. I left because you hit me.”
He slapped her hard across the face, the impact sending her head into the wall. Pain exploded at her temple making her eyes water.
“Fuck. Tell me you’re fucking kidding me?” One of the men asked. “Tell me you didn’t have me kidnap this woman, so you could beat her. I’m a fucking drug dealer, but I’m not a fucking—”
“You’ll do what I say and you won’t say a word because I’ll report you to your parole officer. You’ll end up in jail, and you won’t get that money you want so bad.” Wyatt spun.
She took one look at his face, at the menacing gleam in his eyes, and she knew what would come and knew it would hurt. Closing her eyes, she pictured Jace and braced.
Then the beating began.
****
Trig brought his palms to his temple and squeezed with all his strength. He then slammed his fist through the driver’s side window. It shattered, cutting his hand. Blood poured out and onto the ground.
It didn’t hurt.
It didn’t alleviate the throbbing pain in his chest either.
He was losing his fucking mind. No, he’d fucking lost it already.
It had been nine hours, nine long, agonizing hours suffering the unbearable ache in his chest, hours without Allie, with Allie terrified and alone.
They’d missed him.
Doug called to tell him the private jet the bastard took off in New York was in Washington. A flight plan had just been listed, and the jet was now headed to New York. More than likely, since flight plans were required for out of state flights, the plane Wyatt took off in landed in another airport in New York. He’d switched planes, evading the PI. Wyatt could’ve then flown directly to California, making it impossible to track him since they hadn’t known which plane he’d taken off in. It meant he’d probably already landed in California, probably one of the larger airports, so he wouldn’t be spotted. Because they didn’t know he’d switched planes, there was no way to find out where the plane landed. Not that it mattered, the plan had been to follow him to wherever he went, which would’ve led them to Allie.
His phone rang, and he brought it to his ear.
“Gotta report about a black SUV in an abandoned warehouse in Santa Rosa. It’s out of our jurisdiction—” George said.
Fuck. Hope. His heart pounding louder, he cut him off, “Address.”
“Can’t—”
“Gimme the fuckin’ address or I swear to fuckin’—”
“Not smart to threaten a cop.”
He sighed, tears forming in his eyes. Clutching his phone to his ear, he did something he’d never done before. He begged. “It’s been nine fuckin’ hours. She’s been alone. He’s there already. I fuckin’ know it. I need to find her before…Please, give it to me.”
George must’ve heard the desperation in his voice. “Giving you some advice, don’t fuckin’ kill him. You’ll end up in jail, and if she loves you half as much as you love her, you’ll be punishing her.” He gave him the address.
Trig wasted no time. Jumping in his SUV, Mellow hopped in beside him. While he drove, Mellow made calls to his brothers.
It took ten minutes to get there. He parked and reached for the gun in the glove compartment.
Mellow gripped his hand, stopping him. “We go in together.”
“Don’t know how many—”
He shook his head. “Not lettin’ you go in there alone, brother. The faster you agree, the faster we’re in.”
He nodded, hopped out of the SUV, and sprinted to the door. He slung it open and spotted three men. Two were toward the middle of the warehouse facing him. The other was the ex, the fucking bastard’s back facing the door, hovering over her, his beautiful-beyond-anything-in-the-world Allie. She lay motionless on the floor.
He swallowed the anguish, fighting the tears pooling in his eyes and roared, “Get the fuck away from her! Now or I’ll fuckin’ shoot all of you!”
The two men lifted their hands immediately. Wyatt’s back shot ramrod straight, but he didn’t turn.
“Don’t know if you fuckin’ know but I was a sniper. It means I can shoot you between the eyes from behind, so put your fuckin’ hands up and face me.”
Wyatt turned. His eyes, dark and menacing, met his.
“Don’t fuckin’ think about reaching for that gun,” Mellow said from beside him. He walked toward one of the men and removed the gun from his waistband. “Check Allie.”
He didn’t need to be told, already half-way there. Reaching Allie, he knelt. On her side, her dark hair sprawled across the floor, her arms covering her head, like she’d been trying to protect herself from the asshole’s blows.
Slowly, he drew her arms away from her face. Unconscious, the right side of her face swollen, her lip bleeding. His heart clenched. He checked her pulse, slow and steady. Alive and breathing, he sighed in relief.
She was safe. He heard the faint sound of sirens but paid no mind to it. Putting his gun on his waistband, he wrapped one arm around her back, the other under her knees and lifted her. Her body slumped against him. His arms tightened around her. His eyes glued to her face, he caught sight of her eyelids fluttering open.
“Jace…” she whispered.
She knew he was there.
She knew she was safe.
“Yeah, baby, I’m here.”
She smiled, softly.
He looked up. Army, Cuss, Blaze, Trick, Wild, Stone were there now too. Three had guns drawn, aimed at Wyatt and the two others.
Army strode to him, took one look at Allie’s face and tensed. “She’s gonna be fine. She’s gonna survive this. She’s gonna move on.” He said it trying to reassure himself.
Trig spared a glance at Wyatt. “I’d kill you, but rather let you rot in hell.”
“She’ll never testify.” Wyatt laughed. “Besides, I have money and friends. I’ll get off.”
He shook his head, his eyes hardening to slits. “Not when they find out you been paying off judges.”
Wyatt’s face blanched.
He glared at the two others and strode away.