Page 88 of Crave
I flinched and jerked my gaze up from the GPS location somewhere outside Benneton Park. For a second I’d forgotten about him…I’d forgotten about everything…except chasing her. “Nothing.” I turned around and started walking, heading for my bedroom. “Keep me updated if you hear anything.”
“Sure and you do the same.” His words followed me as I walked out.
But would I?
Maybe before seeing the messed up comforter entangled with her t-shirt. But not now. No, now I was going to make our brother understand—our lying, betraying fucking sister was mine.
I stopped on my way out to my bedroom, grabbing my Sig from my safe and slipped it under the waistband of my jeans before making for my bike. The blinking light of the tracker called to me. If little Angel was going to run, hands down she’d run to this weasel.
She thought he could protect her from me…
She was wrong.
A heady gust of wind picked up from nowhere, leaving to duck my head as I pulled away and headed across the city past glistening moonlights of glass and steel where power-hungry titans pulled the city’s strings and headed for their homes instead.
Nestled behind wrought iron gates and manicured hedges was a disgustingly opulent neighborhood dripping with obscene wealth. My family might’ve taken our money from men just as dangerous, but these men…these men were a whole new breed of bastards.
Not only did they lie and manipulate, they stole from the most vulnerable, bleeding them dry with predatory health funds created for one purpose and one purpose alone…to make every single one of them rich.
But they weren’t content with siphoning cash from these people. Oh no, they had their claws deep into the drug companies too. The same vultures that inflates prices of life-saving medications, turning sickness into a lucrative and foul business. One they excelled at.
I slowed at the gates, eying the pristine, pot-hole free streets and towering monoliths in the distance. If our sister was running anywhere, I’d bet my fucking life it’d be here. I slowed the bike, the growl of the engine swallowed by the thick layer of trees that surrounded the perimeter. One scan of the gates and I aimed the bike for shadows between the gaps between the trees.
This cocoon of privilege wasn’t a barrier…not to me.
It was a fucking challenge.
I nosed the bike into the thick of the forest and climbed off before pulling my helmet free. The gun scratched my back as I started walking, leaving the Ducati behind. I was betting this place was guarded by more than just locks, cameras and sensors. No doubt armed security patrolled every inch of this place. But all I needed was a few minutes, and a perfect blind spot leaving this cesspit of luxury wide open.
The wind howled between the trees overhead, almost driving me backwards. Thump. The sound came from up ahead. The closer I came, the more I saw the damage. Part of the fence swung free, no doubt from the storms we’d had recently, leaving nature to rip and tear, exacting her wrath.
I grabbed the section of iron fence as it swung outwards, pulling it wide enough for me to slip inside. Once I was in, I lowered my head and headed for the thick brushes of the nearest backyard and grabbed my cell. The red blinking light was up ahead, drawing me onward.
My focus shifted. The feel of the gun in my hand and the brutal strength of the wind howling in my face slipped away. All I saw was her in that recording, her eyes glazed with a look of pure fucking desire. One she gave to another man.
No, it wasn’t slipping away…I was. Rage consumed me. Cold, bitter rage.
I clenched the gun and followed the beacon, stopping at one of the oldest houses in the estate. This wasn’t just a house, it was a monument of old money, its grandeur unmistakable. I scanned darkened window after darkened window between the ivy-clad walls of weathered stone searching for any sign of life. But there was none. I headed to the rear of the house before I stopped halfway along.
There was a door open, one that entered some conservatory. I quickly glanced over my shoulder then stepped. Checkerboard polished marble tiles gleamed under soft overhead lights. The air was thick and pungent, each breath drawing in the earthy scent tinged with sweetness. Exotic orchids, delicate and vibrant, clung to mossy branches. I pushed past and headed inside.
I didn’t give a fuck about their flowers, or their money. There was only one thing I was after and as I stepped out of the conservatory and into the house it felt like I moved between two worlds. Cold, serene grandeur greeted me. My steps echoed softly on the polished wooden floorboards, each board a deep, rich mahogany that gleamed under the light of a crystal chandelier that was switched on, even in the middle of the day.
Antique furniture was arranged with careful precision—wingback chairs upholstered in a rich brocade, sat around a black grand piano, its glossy surface reflecting the soft glow of the lights. The air was colder here, the scent of flowers replaced with the tang of wood polish. Every detail of this place spoke of history and wealth. The Hargreaves of this city didn’t just come from money…they came from old money. The kind that didn’t disappear in any goddamn lifetime.
The sound of voices drew my focus—a sound the clearest, one that sent a jolt of adrenaline surging my veins. My stepsister’s name was like a spark igniting the smoldering rage I barely kept leashed. Every fiber of my being was focused on the one thing: finding her, getting her out and making sure the man who hid her paid for it.
I followed the voices, my hands clenched in fists, every step calculated and silent until I reached the second floor and stopped. The voices…now silent.
My pulse boomed as I tread slowly, step-by-step until I came to a closed bedroom door. Energy crackled inside. I didn’t need to check the GPS beacon to know I was standing right over it. My fingers trembled as I reached out, grasped the handle and slowly turned, pushing it all the way in…and froze.
The bedroom was empty. The voices a faint echo bouncing off the cold, stoney walls of this place. I unleashed a curse under my breath, frustration fuelling the savage energy coiled tight within him.
He was here…I knew it, hiding somewhere, like the coward he is.
That meant Angel was here too.
Somewhere.
