I woke up disoriented with a vicious fucking headache. It felt like the worst hangover I’d ever had, and as I tried to sit up, the muscles across my chest argued and I fell back onto whatever I was laying on. What the fuck— The meeting. The assault team. I’d been shot by one of those idiots!

Forcing my eyes open against the bright lights I scrambled for my shirt, and finally felt someone grab my hand. “Whoa, whoa, Andre! Chill out, man. We got them, we got’em.”

It took a minute for the glaring lights to let me focus and see Nathan’s face. I growled. “Who the fuck shot me?”

“I did.” He laughed as I tried to reach for him, and then poked a finger hard into my chest and I groaned. “Well, not really. They were rubber bullets, have these blood caps on the end so they explode on you, makes it look like you’ve been shot. Pretty cool, actually, but I’ve been told they hurt like a bitch.”

“Fuck you,” I growled, but I had to admit I was relieved I hadn’t actually been shot. Still, my head was foggy, confused. “Why did I pass out then?”

“I drugged you. Just a simple sedative, but we needed everyone there to think you’d died. Carried you out in a body bag and everything.” Nathan looked proud, and I wanted to punch him in the face. “Now, no one is going to look for you while we take these bastards to court. Smart shit, right? We had someone from DEA on the team and it was their idea, and although they’re cocky bastards, it worked great.”

“Would you shut up for five minutes? Christ…” I grumbled, rubbing my face, and then I flinched. “How’s Nicky?”

“We’ll talk about that later, I need you to wake up and give us a report-out.” I heard an edge to Nathan’s voice and I forced myself up, realizing I was on a couch of some kind. There were people all over the house we were in, people talking and making calls, but I didn’t see Nicky.

“Where the fuck is Nicky?” I met his eyes and saw the flicker in them.

“Give us your report-out, and we’ll talk about—”

I grabbed Nathan by the shirt and hauled him towards me, ignoring the ache of the bruised muscles in my chest. They were just bruises, I’d survive, Nicky might not. “No. Right fucking now. Where is she?”

He shoved my hand away, straightening his shirt as he leaned back in the chair he’d pulled over. “We sent a team to Paulo’s house, but it was empty. We’ve got the missing persons report out across the city, and have sent up alerts to be on the look out for—”

“You son of a bitch!” I forced myself to my feet, swaying for a moment, and I cursed him again for drugging me. “I told you, I fucking told you to get her out of there.”

Stumbling forward, I caught myself on the door frame and Nathan grabbed my arm. “You need to sit your ass back down and let the other cops do their job. You have to do yours.”

“I’m not doing shit until Nicky is safe.”

“Fine, then it’s a fucking order. Understand? You will sit down, you will complete the report-out, and you will meet with—”

I decked him before I could even think through how stupid it was, and Nathan went down hard. If I’d knocked him out, it would just be returning the favor. Walking through the next room, I ignored the stares I got and wandered into a kitchen. There was a set of keys on the counter and I snagged them and stumbled to the front door to get it open.

Nicky. I had to get to Nicky.

Walking outside was painful, the sun too bright, but I just squinted through it, pressing the lock button on the keychain over and over until I heard a horn honk and moved towards it. It was a plain sedan, probably one of the cop’s unmarked cars, but I didn’t give a shit. Climbing in, I dug in my pocket, relieved to still have my cell phone on me. As soon as the GPS figured out where the fuck I was, I floored it to Paulo’s house.

If there were any clues, that would be where I’d find them.

* * *

It took almost forty minutes to get to Paulo’s, and I was grateful to see that they’d left the gate wide open after the assault team had hit it. There was police tape across the front door, and I parked right in front of the entrance.

She’s not here. You already know she’s not here.

Still, I couldn’t help but rush inside. Ripping the tape down and breaking the seal on the door to get inside. I took the stairs two at a time, only tripping once with the lingering effects of the damn sedative, but when I got to Paulo’s room the door was wide open. I’d never been in his bedroom, and was surprised by how large it was. At least three times the size of my own, which wasn’t a small room. Then my heart stopped.

There were dark, crimson smears on the pale sheets on the bed. Not a lot of blood, but enough to know the bastard had hurt her. I fought down the rage, pushing it down, and tried to focus so I could think. I needed to be cold. There was a length of chain extending into the bathroom from one of the posts on the bed and I followed it, but it abruptly cut off. Broken links on the floor that gave me more questions than answers.

Shit. Nicky couldn’t have broken that without help, which meant… I ripped my phone out of my jeans and called Diego. I’d skin him alive if he had her. I’d rip him to shreds and make him suffer long before I let him die. It rang to voicemail the first time, and I stomped down to my room, fumbling for the key tucked in my front pocket.

My room was untouched, and I dug out Nicky’s duffel bag and mine, filling mine with weapons, my laptop, my books, the notes from my closet, and other shit I didn’t want the idiots who’d search this place going through. The bag weighed a ton when I started back down the stairs, ignoring the pain in my chest as I called Diego again.

“Who is this?” Diego answered this time, sounding like the asshole he always did.

“Did you fucking take Nicky from the house?”

“Andre? How the hell are you out? I heard you all got snapped up by the cops—”

“Dammit, Diego! If you took Nicky I’m going to put you in the ground, pinche pendejo. You better not have touched—”

Diego laughed, actually fucking laughed, and I let the black surge inside me. “Are you fucking kidding me? Paulo was arrested. We’re all fucked! You think I’m going to drag some angry puta with me when I’m trying to get out of town before I get locked up?” He laughed some more and I hung up on him.

If not, Diego… then… I called Marco as I walked out of the house, throwing the bags in the trunk before I got in the car.

He finally answered just as I shut the door. “¿Aló?”

“Marco,” I growled as I pulled out of Paulo’s long drive, grateful that I hadn’t run into anyone else yet. “Nicky is gone, do you—”

“She’s safe. I’ve got her with me at the safe house on Jardín.” Marco’s voice had never sounded so good, and I braked hard to pull to the curb before I lost it. It was like I’d been trying to breathe underwater for an hour and I’d finally broken the surface. Lungs finally filling, heart beating again, all of the black inside me sinking away.

Alive. Safe. Nicky is alive.

“I heard the cops got everyone, how did you get out?”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m on my way. You keep her safe, understand?”

“Yeah, man. She’s sleeping right now, she… shit, Andre… Paulo and Luis hurt her. Bad.”

“Luis?” I asked, feeling the rage surging again, confused as to why Luis would be involved at all, but for the moment I didn’t care. I just needed to see Nicky. “Fuck it, I’m on my way.”

“Okay, cuadro.”

My head spun as I drove, pushing the speed limit as much as I was willing to while hauling weapons and cash in a stolen car with dried blood on my fucking shirt, but the closer I got to Nicky the less I could think about anything else.

What did they do to you, belleza?