Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
The van didn’t have any plates, and the only windows I could see were the windshield, the driver’s side door window, and the passenger side window. The whole thing made my stomach hurt just looking at it, and my instincts told me to get the fuck away. But I was a cop; I couldn’t run from danger. I was the one who was supposed to put a stop to the danger.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” I warned Trent.
He grunted. “Yeah, I know.” He then pushed open his door, his weapon already in his hand, and I followed suit. He took one side of the vehicle, and I took the other, nausea swirling in my gut as adrenaline pumped through my veins. Branches cut at my skin as I rounded the truck, heading toward the back.
“Abb—” Trent’s words were cut off, and he grunted before something hard slammed into the van on the other side. I rushed toward him, reaching for my radio for backup, but I was too slow.
Someone tackled me from behind. My gun slid across the dirt into the leaves, and my chin bounced off the ground, blood immediately pooling in my mouth. Pain exploded through my jaw. I tried pushing back, but whoever was on me was strong, and they held me down with ease as someone else bound my arms behind my back tight enough to cut off the circulation in my wrists.
“Trent?!” I yelled, blood dripping down my chin. I couldn’t get another word out before a gag was shoved in my mouth and tied behind my head. I kicked out, trying to roll over, but fuck—whoever these people were worked together like a well-oiled machine. My legs were grabbed, and someone sat on them while another set of hands bound my legs together.
“Night, night, biker bitch,” someone growled from behind me before something hard slammed into the back of my head and everything went dark.
CHAPTER NINE
Cameron
Ace, who usually wore on my nerves when I took him with me on the days I worked at InkLore, was quiet. The only words he’d spoken to me this morning were to ask me if he could ride with me to the tattoo shop so he could work on some art and have a change of scenery. No one had spoken to me much—not when they figured out I was in a pissy mood. My attitude had been shit since Abbie and I had fallen out.
I wasn’t supposed to start falling for her, but I had. And now, I had to deal with that shit as a consequence. Didn’t matter how I felt about her—me and a cop were never going to work out. Not when we lived on two different sides of the law.
Shaw knocked lightly on the door. Sighing softly, I looked up at him, feeling tired to my fucking bones. I hadn’t slept much in the three days since our split, and I was beginning to feel the fatigue weighing heavily on my shoulders.
The expression on Shaw’s face was grim, his lips a flat line. I sat up straighter and cleared my throat. Ace looked up at me before looking at Shaw, sitting up immediately.
Something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” Ace asked, setting his iPad pencil down on the plush rug beside his tablet.
Shaw watched me for a moment. I steeled myself. But still, nothing could have prepared me for his next words. Not a damn thing.
“Abbie’s partner is in the hospital—critical condition. He was found laying on the side of the road three miles from the patrol car. They don’t know if he’s going to make it.” He stepped into the room and gripped my shoulders, his fingertips biting into my skin through the fabric of my shirt. “Abbie is missing.”
Abbie is missing.
Abbie is missing.
Abbie. Is. Fucking. Missing.
Those words spun around and around in my head. The pencil in my hand snapped in half from my grip on it. My hearing went all staticky, and my heart slammed against my chest bone.
My woman was fucking missing.
“We need to find her,” I rasped, my throat tight. I jerked back from Shaw’s desk, the chair rolling back and slamming into the wall. I yanked the ponytail holder out of my hair before yanking the strands back into a bun, my movements jerky. I looked at Shaw, my hands trembling. “We have to find her, Shaw.”
He nodded. “I know. We will. Come on. Ace will drive your truck home. You’re in no condition to drive.”
I just nodded as I slid my things into my backpack, not even caring about bending the pages like I normally would. Shaw pressed a hand to my upper back between my shoulder blades, leading me out of his office and to the back door of the shop where we parked our vehicles. Without a word, I slid into the passenger seat of my truck, my mind still spinning. Reeling out of control.