Chapter 49

Dalton

3:05AM

“I’ve got the satchel, but her—” Brycen says over the line. “Shit!”

“What?” I demanded over the speakerphone so the group could hear.

“Her fucking computers!” I didn’t see why this warranted excitement. “They took her laptops. Dude…okay, hold on.” I heard a car door slam, then some tapping of keys. “Devolin has an instant Internet connection on those beasts,” he explained. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about tracking her location through that this entire time.”

I nodded to myself. “Makes sense. Ditch the bag and only take what’s needed,” I hypothesized. “He’d want those computers. Hell, he wants the information that’s on them, some shit she got on two guys for him that she never gave to him. I’m betting that’s what he’s after.”

“Me, too,” Brycen agreed.

My phone beeped with an incoming message.

“Got a message. Stay where you are until you get a bead on her, then call me back,” I ordered Brycen.

“Roger that.”

Disconnecting, I found that I’d missed a call from my dad.

The man answered after the first ring.

“Dad?”

“Newport. That shipping yard you and your boys found Theo’s woman in last year. Fifteen.”

Before I could say anything, my father hung up.

I looked down at my phone. “What the fuck?”

“What?” Theo took a step toward me, Morgan standing at his side.

With Devolin kidnapped, and because Rex had found that letter that contained the threat toward Morgan and Theo, I’d told Theo to go get Morgan and bring her to the office.

“The old man’s on the case, apparently,” I grumbled to the group. “She’s in Newport.”

Theo’s eyes rounded. “Not…”

“Yeah.”

 

Four tries and I still hadn’t reached Dad. That heavy feeling in my gut was only getting heavier. Something bad was coming, I knew it with every fiber of my being.

By the time we pulled up outside of the shipping yard, Brycen was there waiting for us.

“Did you see Dad?” I asked him.

“Nothing.”

“Dammit!” I took a large breath, hoping for patience. “Everyone knows what they’re doing?” I received a collective nod.

Time to roll.

 

We found Dad first, tucked away behind Warehouse Fifteen, a bloodied heap on the ground. His breathing was shallow, but he was conscious. Barely.

“Where’s the car?” he mumbled.

“Car?”

“Black Olds. Sedan. Last year’s model,” he rattled off.

There hadn’t been one of those in sight. “Dad, all we saw was an old RAM drive off at the other end of the lot.” That’s when it hit me. “Get in that warehouse now!”

Somehow, I knew we wouldn’t find what we’d come for.

That was proven as fact when we came into the large structure, a table at its center, a chair, some tangled rope on the ground, and a body.

Shot up multiple times, but still quite fresh since the oaf was still warm.

“T, turn him over, will you?” Theo walked up to the body and flipped him from his side onto his back. Taking my phone, I snapped a shot and walked right back out to where my father lay. “Is this him?”

“One of them,” he groaned. “There were two.”

Where the fuck had they gone?

 

Devolin

I’d shot someone. Dead. Or at least I think he was.

Holy shit, I shot someone!

Let me explain that…

Gordon had taken off with his car, leaving me alone with his muscle, to put to rights what I’d been messing with the entire night.

You see, I’d finally found an access point to Gordon’s bank accounts, as well as proof that he was siphoning money from his investors in less than legal operations.

Looks like I succeeded a little too well at drawing the man out.

When Marcello the Brute, as I had vowed to call him, went to inspect a loud clanging noise coming from the back of the building, I’d followed him, even though he’d instructed me to stay put.

That’s when I saw him beating some man to a pulp. A man I didn’t recognize right away until he rolled over. Shrieking my shock at seeing Hank, Dalton’s father, plastered with blood and beaten; Marcello had turned to find me noticing the gun he’d been holding, but had somehow ended up on the ground. I made a dash for it, having to shove my elbow into the bruiser’s nose to get away and into the warehouse. He was hot on my tail, but I had enough time to get the safety off the weapon and take aim.

I pressed the trigger, surprised that three shots rang out due to its sensitivity. Considering I’d never shot a gun off before, I was shocked to find that Marcello was on the ground.

That’s when I made my escape, carrying my laptops with me.

Checking that Hank still had a strong pulse, while he lay there unconscious, I dialed 911 to report the incident.

I then wandered the shipping yard, looking to find some way to catch a ride, when I spotted a Dodge Ram, the driver inside, eyeing me as I approached.

“Not exactly where you should be this time of night, is it, sweets?” the man said.

I decided to go for honesty. He seemed harmless enough, and I still had the gun tucked in the back of my pants, my hoodie doing a great job at concealing the weapon. “I need your help.” I looked behind me to make sure I wasn’t being followed. “Earlier tonight, two men took me and brought me here. I need to get back home.”

“You need to talk to the cops,” was his rebuttal.

“M-my boyfriend is the cops.” So I told a little white lie, sue me!

Despite the warmth in the air, I was shivering. The man noticed.

“Get in.” Putting the truck in reverse, he asked, “Where to?”