Chapter Thirty-One

Eli

I woke up slowly, reluctantly, to the obnoxious tenor of a jangling phone. My bleary, bloodshot eye fixed on the alarm clock on the bedside table. 11:37 a.m.

Fuck. We missed check out.

I say “we,” but there was no sign of Nina in the room, save the open laptop on the desk. With the exception of the ringing phone, there was no sound in the room. Did she leave? Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she—?

Alarm seized my throat like a vice. She was gone, but she wasn’t supposed to be gone. She would’ve told me if she had to leave.

A deep frown dug itself into my forehead, and I lunged across the bed, grasping the phone and jerking it to my ear. Maybe there were answers on the other side of this line.

“Where the fuck is she?” I greeted.

Silence replied on the line.

“Well?” The grizzled word came out as a growl.

“I—I don’t know, sir,” an unfamiliar voice replied after some hesitation. “I was calling to inform you that you’ve missed your check-out time, and we will be billing your method of payment for another night’s stay, as per—”

“I don’t give a FUCK about your goddamn CHECK OUT TIMES,” I roared, even though I knew that this kid had nothing to do with JP or with Nina. I couldn’t control the misguided rage bubbling out of me now. Where was she? Where was she? Did he have her?

I slammed the phone down into its cradle and lurched to my feet. Raking a hand through my unruly hair, I knotted it back into a small bun and took a deep breath, trying to center all the wild, masculine aggression running rampant through my body right now.

The past few days had already worn down at my muscles and my thoughts. That was why I overslept, and that was why I could have probably slept for another handful of hours. My body still groaned for the contours of that shitty motel mattress, but my mental focus rapidly blinked all the sleepy crust away. I didn’t feel secure at a place called “L:MOTEL,” but it was better than the streets themselves, and now we were paying.

My jacket was gone. The leather jacket that she had worn on the way here was gone.

I shoved the bathroom door open, even though I knew that nothing was on the other side. It was too eerily quiet in this room. It was the sound of loneliness. The sound used to bring comfort to me, but I hated it now. It was the sound of my failure. It was the sound of Nina screaming somewhere and me being unable to hear her. Unable to do anything about it, like when I was a kid.

My jaw clenched until I thought my teeth might break.

No. Not like when I was a kid.

I can do something. I can get her back.

I glanced through her laptop for any clues. The files from her Cloud account were still open and on display, imprinted with the logo for Redman Corporation.

I took one second and copied the document into an email for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I would call their tip line and let them know everything that was happening before I left this room, in case I never made it back.

I marched down to the motel lobby, and I could tell that the desk clerk assumed I was the one from the phone. His eyes were wide as soon as they settled on me. Did my body language say that I was the maniac who answered his phone, “Where the fuck is she?” Probably.

I jerked the glass door open and my boots sounded like thunder as I crossed to the desk.

“I’m looking for a woman,” I said, planting my palms on the desk to let the kid know that I wasn’t leaving until my questions were answered to my satisfaction.

The clerk cowered from me. His eyes tracked me warily, like I might grab him by the throat. And maybe I would. I couldn’t make any promises right now.

“Okay?” he said.

“She’s young and beautiful,” I said, even though that wasn’t descriptive. I felt like it was.

“I’m looking for someone like that, too,” the clerk squeaked, “but we’re not that kind of establishment, sir.”

“She checked in with me last fucking night,” I snapped, reaching across the desk and grasping the twerp by his uniform collar. I had to wrangle my willpower to keep from shaking the kid. “Now she’s gone.” I dragged him up off the stool and spoke lowly to him, enunciating with painful clarity. “She’s got blond hair, and it’s curly. Blue eyes. Really blue. She’s probably wearing jeans and trainers. Leather jacket. Twenty-two. Have you seen her?”

“I think I would remember seeing her,” the clerk swore to me.

“Damn it!” I let him go and he floundered away from me. “How did he take her? When? What the fuck happened while I was asleep?”

“Sir… Do you need me to call somebody?” the kid asked, looking at me with worried eyes.

I glowered down at him. Call somebody, he said. Like there was anyone to call.

“No. I’m checking out. It’s not anything you need to worry about.”

I told him that everything was fine, but in the back of my mind, the weight of the handgun tucked into these jeans gave me some small sense of security.