Page 21 of Declan's Dove

Gabe: What do you mean missing? Where’s the kid?

Me: With me and Ethan. I’m taking him to my place.

Gabe: Cops know?

Me: No. She left a note, but something isn’t right. Wyatt’s skimming the camera footage now. I asked him to get Hawk on it with him.

Gabe: Get the kid situated. Church tomorrow seven a.m.

Me: Make it nine. I have to get the kid to school first.

Gabe: Nine then.

“I’m going to check her room. See if she left any signs of where she’s headed. Watch the kid for me,” I tell Ethan.

Violet’s room is nothing like I would’ve expected. It’s plain, except for the floral cover on the bed. There are no other accents that would suggest this is a woman’s space. No colorful pillows or curtains. No photos on the walls or the nightstands. Even the lamps are white, nothing special.

It’s like she doesn’t want anyone to know she lives here.

Opening her closet door, I shift the clothes around. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but something in my gut tells me I need to find it. I slide her clothes to the side and see her shoe rack on the floor, neatly organized by color. The top shelf of the closet has a couple of small duffle bags folded over and a box marked Christmas, but the rest of the shelf space is relatively empty. Turning to the other side, I find several jackets hung up in a row with a few dresses. Again, nothing fancy, but again not what I would expect to find in a woman’s closet.

I’ve seen women’s closets. Even the club whores’ closets have more clothing in them than Violet’s does.

Moving over to the bathroom, it’s the same. Tidy and plain, except for a couple of light blue rugs on the floor. I check the drawers. Nothing seems to be out of place. It’s all typical girly shit. It doesn’t even look like she took her toothbrush with her. And I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have left without her birth control pills unless she was in a hurry and just forgot.

My hackles are raised.

I don’t know enough about my dove to know what could spook her enough to leave her son, and not tell anyone what’s going on, or where she’s gone.

On my way out of the bathroom, as I’m passing the dresser, a shiny piece of black paper catches my eye. It’s sticking out from under the lid of a box made of colorful popsicle sticks with a sticker glued to the top that says Happy Mother’s Day, and I’m sure Carter made for his mom. I lift the lid and grab the piece of paper out. It’s a business card for the Velvet Pearl. It’s not uncommon for the women to go watch the shows there from time to time, so I don’t find it particularly concerning. But what I find laying under the black card has my protective instincts on high alert and my blood running hot. It’s another business card—one I recognize immediately—one that belongs to someone my dove shouldn’t even know exists.

Trident Elite Forces

Kayce Eaton

Owner

“Fuck!”

My life just took a turn I never saw coming, and my little Dove has some serious explaining to do when I find her.

CHAPTER FIVE

Violet

The flight out to Baron’s Edge took less time than I anticipated. Vincenzo had his men waiting for us at the top of the Rose Garden Hotel. We were escorted down to the penthouse, where Vincenzo rattled off instructions in Italian to his men while I waited impatiently to go get my friend.

We’re taking the elevator down to the parking garage where he said his men will meet us in his SUVs. The doctor is coming along in case Mili needs immediate care on site.

When we exit the elevator, two men, Matteo and another of Vincenzo’s soldiers I don’t know, flank my sides until we reach the vehicle. Matteo opens the rear passenger door and ushers me inside, then crawls in beside me and closes the door. The other man takes the front passenger seat and begins talking to the driver.

“What do you know about the men who attacked your friend?” Matteo asks, surprising me.

“Oh, so now you want to talk to me?” I snark. Matteo raises his brow. I throw my hands up and drop them back into my lap. “Everyone has been speaking in Italian since I arrived at the house unless telling me what to do.”

“It’s for your own safety. It’s best if you don’t know what we are planning and follow whatever instructions you are given.”

“So, you expect me to blindly obey.” It’s not a question, nor is it something that appeals to me. “I’ve been the good girl and done as I was told before. It didn’t work out so hot for me in the past.” I turn away from Matteo and watch as the city goes by.

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