Page 102 of Wicked Intentions (Wicked Games 3)
“She took the diamond!” I holler as I take a corner at top speed, tires squealing. “She’s gone, Mariana’s gone!”
The Bluetooth in the truck emits a crackle, then silence. “Well, that fucking sucks,” Connor says.
“I’m on my way to Metrix right now! We need to scramble th
e team and get everyone locked and loaded—”
“The team?”
“—and ready to go within thirty minutes!”
“Sorry, I’m not following. You know where she went?”
“Thirty minutes!” I shout at the top of my lungs and disconnect the call.
* * *
I fly so fast through the streets of lower Manhattan, it’s a miracle I don’t kill anyone, including myself. By the time I arrive at Metrix, I’ve achieved a tenuous grip on my fury and am able to slow at the gate and punch in the security code instead of gunning it and trying to crash straight through like my adrenaline would like. I park, jump out of the truck, and hump it across the parking lot without even closing the driver’s door.
Connor has already beat me here.
The big steel door slides open, and he’s standing with his arms folded over his chest, wearing his usual black boots, cargo pants, T-shirt, and Glock, along with a credible poker face—although I can tell he’s on high alert.
“What’s the 411, brother?”
I hold up my cell phone. “Let’s get the satellite up. I’ve got a bead on her.”
He turns and strides beside me as I head to the war room. Even at this hour, all the computer stations are manned. We don’t even get a single curious glance as we blow past the crew. They’re used to seeing us in combat mode.
“You wanna tell me what happened?”
“You know what happened,” I growl. “She took the diamond and left.”
“Uh-huh. And what precipitated that?”
I stop dead in my tracks, swing around, and stare at him. “Precipitated? Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”
Connor spreads his hands wide in a placating gesture, so I know what’s about to come out of his mouth is gonna be something I won’t like.
“All I’m asking is, did you two have a fight?”
“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” I grind out.
“’Cause when you guys were here earlier, I was getting the vibe that she was basically…in love with you.”
“Of course she’s in love with me, dickhead!” I roar, my face exploding with heat.
Connor blinks. He drags a hand over his dark hair, shorn short like he always wears it. “Yeah, you lost me again, brother.”
I lift a hand and start to count the obvious facts on my fingers. “One: everything was peachy keen one minute, afterglow like a motherfucker painting my bedroom walls pink; the next minute, she’s gone. With the diamond. Two: she left a cryptic fuckin’ note with some weird Peter Pan quote her and Tabby were yakkin’ about the night they met. Three: She made a call on the cell phone I gave her right after I went into the shower and right before I discovered her gone. A call that lasted exactly forty-six seconds before bein’ disconnected from the other end. Guess who she called?”
“Reynard,” Connor says immediately.
“Bingo. Only the number she dialed was rerouted all over the fuckin’ place and bounced off practically every fuckin’ telecom satellite we got up in space before bein’ encrypted and obfuscated all to hell, then pingin’ back to a Chinese restaurant a block away from my house.”
Connor’s eyes turn poison black. Crazy-person black. The black of a man who’s getting ready to go to war. “Vincent Moreno. And that ping-back was his way of telling you he knows where you live.”
“And Mariana’s headed to him with the diamond in exchange for Reynard’s life.”
