Page 58 of Biker's Babygirl

Both of their heads poke out from the kitchen. Elvis raises a quizzical brow.

“Have you seen Ginny?”

I whirl around and nearly smack into Ellie who was apparently following right behind me.

“I’ll check the house,” she says before I can ask.

“She better hurry. We can’t be late.”

I hardly hear him. I’m so focused on where Ginny could be. The house isn’t tiny, but with the four of us living here, it isn’t huge, either.

“I’m gettin’ a little sick of chasing your girlfriend,” Shep comments as he munches an apple.

“Shut up,” I snap, but if I’m being honest, I don’t blame him. Having gone through this same gambit of emotions—panic, fear, frustration—I can see where he’s coming from. And for Shep, there’s no upside. She’s nothisLittle Girl, or his responsibility.

“I can’t find her.” Ellie’s voice is no longer calm as she comes back into the hallway.

My brow furrows. “She has to be. That doesn't make sense. She can't just be gone." Even as I say it, I realize how stupid it sounds.

Thankfully, we've all been together long enough that no one points it out. Though the mixture of trepidation and pity on Ellie's face is impossible to miss.

I force myself to turn away from her. "We need to look again, that's all."

"Listen, bro?—"

"Good plan." Ellie cuts him off, and I swear, I've never been fonder of her than in this moment. "I'll take the bedrooms this time. Elvis, why don't you check outside? Duke, do your room, bathroom, and the kitchen. And Shep?—"

"How about I wait here in case she gets back?" he suggests wryly.

My affection for Ellie is just as deep as my dislike for my brother at the moment, but I don't have time to waste on that right now. All my energy needs to go into finding Ginny.

And when I do, this time there is nothing she can say or do to escape a well-earned trip over my knee. My Little girl needs to understand the consequences of her actions, and words aren't getting the job done.

We all scurry to look. My heart is pounding in my ears and by the time I’ve searched our bedroom—not a large search by any means—and found it empty, my pulse has picked up, too.She couldn’t have just left. She didn’t take anything,I reason. Even as the thought crosses my mind, however, I realize I’m not entirely convinced.

But it doesn’t make sense.I walk into the bathroom and push the shower curtain back to reveal an empty tub.She didn’t have any reason to leave. She says she loves me.

By the time I circle back to the rest of the gang, my hands are balled into fists at my sides and I’m clenching my teeth. If my options are between fear and anger, I’ll take anger. It feels like the safer of the two just now, because if I let myself plunge into the erratic world of what-ifs, I’ll go crazy.

Ellie, on the other hand, looks shook. Her eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them, and she’s gone pale. “Duke… she’s really not here. What if she’s been… you know. Taken.” She bites down on her bottom lip as soon as she suggests it.

Before I can even open my mouth, much less respond, my brother speaks up. “Nope. There’s no sign of a break-in.”

I glance his way and am about to turn back to address Shep and Ellie, who are clearly waiting for me to decide on the next plan of attack, when a jolt of realization hits me. “You never moved.”

“What?” He sounds almost bored.

Strange, even for Shep. He’s known to be a bit of a hardass, sure, but he genuinely cares about people. We all do, or we wouldn’t be in the business of saving lives.

“You didn’t move,” I repeat, the words more accusatory this time.

“So?” He lifts a shoulder, but I’m not buying this apathetic attitude.

“You know something.” I turn and face him, focusing my attention solely on my little brother.

Little by birth order only—he’s an inch taller than my own 6’1 frame, and though I’ve got forty pounds on him, every pound on him is pure muscle. Shep is built like a powerhouse because he spends hours a week honing his physique.

Shep snorts. “What are you talking about?”

---