Page 72 of Abducted

“Lana?”

No. It couldn’t be. His hands fisted at his temples.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He dug his fingertips into his scalp and paced the garage. She was gone. While he’d been wasting time getting information from Stamos, someone had taken her.

An iron fist gripped his heart. He had to get her back. God, how had it happened? He needed help. The police were here, but he needed someone with more resources. Someone who could act now.

He searched his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and stared down at it. Lana had his phone…he had Stamos’s. His fingers hovered on the buttons. His brain told him to call his own phone, but he couldn’t. If it rang, it would alert whoever had her that she had a phone on her. And if they found it on her, they would destroy it and he would have no chance of finding her at all. It was a shot in the dark without it. He dialed Nate’s number. It rang and rang.

Goddammit, answer the phone, you asshole.

On the fourth ring, a breathless Nate came to the phone. “What is it?”

“Lana’s gone.” His words came out rough and broken. Rage shot through his veins, and every syllable required effort.

“What?” Nate rasped. An annoyed woman’s voice sounded in the background. Nate shushed her. The fucking guy was getting laid while all this shit was going down. A sharp pain pierced behind his eyes, the headache nearly blinding him. Cal pinched his temples together with his thumb and forefinger and willed it away. He had to find Lana.

“Stamos and some other guy came to the house. I told her to wait in my truck, and when I went to get her, she was gone. Along with my truck and my phone.”

“She has your phone?” The sound of a belt buckle clanked.

“Yes. Please tell me you’re getting dressed and not the other way around.”

“Of course, you dipshit.” Nate’s muffled voice sounded in his ear. He whispered something appeasing to the woman, then came back on.

“I can trace your phone. I just have to get my equipment up and running. Call E, tell him to come to your place and call me when he gets there. By then I should have a location.”

Dammit, he hoped to hell Ethan could get there fast. He never should have taken Lana so far from town.

“Done.” Cal disconnected, placed a call to Ethan, and after he promised to be there as soon as possible, Cal raced back inside. One of the cops, a shorter one with close-cropped reddish hair, propelled the man from the kitchen toward the door.

Fear tightened its evil fingers around his soul. If someone had been waiting in the garage, she would have been grabbed the moment he’d sent her in there. Cal glanced at his watch. That had easily been twenty-five minutes ago. Christ. If they’d driven as fast as the cops, they could be anywhere by now.

He stepped in front of the red-haired cop and the sonofabitch with the broken nose and blackening eyes. Cal’s fists bunched at his sides. The need to hit him again roared through his body.

“You,” he spoke low, his voice even. “Who else was here?”

“Easy.” The buff cop with short blond hair stepped in. His hand extended to part Cal from their prisoner.

Cal ignored him. He wasn’t going to wait for a goddamn judge or some two-bit cop to question the stupid sonofabitch. Not while Lana could be anywhere—with anyone.

He didn’t take his eyes off of his one good eye. “Who hired you?”

“Sir, you have to let us do our job.”

Cal held his hand out. “One minute”—then, under his breath to the guy—“if I were you I’d answer the damn question, and fast.”

He shrugged. The left side of his mouth lifted with indifference. “The old lady. S’all I know.”

The redhead sidled past him, the other man in tow. Cal reached out for the other cop. “My girlfriend is missing. She was hiding in the garage when they broke into the house. Someone took her and my truck.”

The cop scratched the beard on his face. His pale blue eyes watched Cal carefully. “Did she have access to your keys?”

Cal’s brain crackled with frustration. “Of course she did.”

“Could it be possible she just left? Maybe she was scared?”

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