Page 18 of The Bodyguard's Innocent Obsession
Hurried footsteps echo down the stairs to the basement, and I whip around as one of the security guys appears. The look on Rick’s face makes my blood run cold.
He’s pale. Breathing hard.
“We’ve got a problem,” he says. “One of the cars just left the garage.”
Every muscle in my body locks.
“I went to check,” Rick continues, “and... she’s not here. Arabella’s gone.”
My vision narrows to a pinpoint. The world doesn’t just stop. It fucking shatters.
“What the fuck do you mean, she’s gone?”
“She took one of the sedans. I checked the feeds, and it’s only her on camera. No one took her.”
I shove past him, storming into the hallway as panic claws up my spine. “Tell me we can track it.”
Rick is already pulling a tablet from under his arm. “We put a tracker in every vehicle the day we arrived. I’ve got her signal.”
He taps the screen and holds it up. A single red dot blinks steadily, already off the property and heading east.
“She’s moving fast,” he mutters. “Rural roads.”
I snatch the tablet from his hand, my thumb flying across the screen. Every instinct I have is roaring now. Blood screaming. Pulse pounding.
“She didn’t just decide to go for a fucking joyride,” I growl. “Someone got to her. She wouldn’t leave without telling me unless she thought she had no choice.”
Rick nods grimly. “You want me to call it in?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Tell the cops we need backup. Say it’s urgent. Senator Prescott’s daughter is involved and every available unit needs to be moving now.”
I turn for the door, but Rick grabs my arm.
“Lachlan, what about him?” He jerks his head towards the makeshift interrogation room. “You want me to keep working him?”
“He’s done,” I snap. “If he knows anything, it’s buried deep, and I don’t have time to dig. Get what you can if you want, but I’m going after her.”
I’m already moving. I don’t remember the stairs. Don’t remember the hallway. Just the burst of sunlight as I throw open the front door and sprint to the driveway.
Seconds later, I’m behind the wheel, the engine roaring as I tear out of the garage. Dust kicks up behind me in a cloud as I hit the main road, the GPS flashing red on the passenger seat.
My jaw is clenched so tight it aches. My grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled, locked down hard enough to snap the leather. The world around me blurs.
But I see her.
Arabella, singing in the kitchen as she iced her cupcakes. Curled up in my arms. Laid out beneath me while moaning with pleasure. Every moment with her flashes before my eyes.
And now she’s out there. Alone. Thinking she has to fix something by herself. Thinking I won’t burn down every mile between us to get her back.
No. No fucking way.
Please be okay, princess.
I’m coming for you, Arabella.
Chapter Eight
Arabella
