Page 46

The corner of Ethan’s mouth lifted. Man, he had good friends. He followed Nate out of the bedroom. He stopped at the bathroom but again, it was clear. Michael waited with his arms crossed over his chest, his back pressed against the kitchen counter.

“I see you didn’t find what you were looking for.” A muscle in Michael’s jaw twitched.

Ethan’s stride quickened as he crossed the kitchen. Michael threw his hands out in front of him. Ethan closed his hand around his windpipe and gave him a shake.

“Listen up, Dr. Ball. I know you took Riley, and I know you did something with Hanna.” He raised his gun and pressed it to Michael’s temple.

His breath hissed out through his teeth.

A tiny cut, barely visible, peeked out from Michael’s bottom lip.

Riley had gotten in some good shots—but that didn’t reassure him.

“The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because I don’t know where she is.

But that won’t stop me from pulling the trigger.

I can put a dozen bullets in you before it becomes life threatening, and eventually, you’ll talk.

Trust me.” A bead of sweat rolled over his temple despite the air conditioning.

Michael’s eyes seared into Ethan’s. His brown irises were nearly black—dead.

This close to him, Ethan’s instinct grew stronger.

Hate and satisfaction emanated from Michael’s thin body.

The lines around his eyes crinkled, but smug determination etched the plains of his face.

A hint of amusement sparked the dark shallows of his eyes.

“You think so?” The words were faint, barely loud enough for Ethan to hear.

But he had.

Rage shook through him.

“You motherfucker.” He bent Michael over the counter and ground the mouth of his Glock against his temple until his hand ached. “Where is she?” His voice boomed throughout the small space.

Michael kept his hands beside his ears. “I don’t know what—”

He flipped the gun over in his palm and beat the butt of it against Michael’s skull. He cried out, and yelled something ineligible. Ethan did it again. This time, the thin skin at his head split.

“Dammit—”

“I can do this all day, Dr. Ball. Thing is, I don’t think you can. Looks like Riley already gave you a beating.” He tossed his gun in the air and caught it in his hand, this time the mouth of it pointed a Michael. “You have five seconds before I shoot out your kneecaps.”

“I don’t know any—”

“One.” Ethan’s voice was steady. His fingers itched for the moment he’d get to pull the trigger. “Two…”

“Would you—”

“Three—”

“Ethan, drop your weapon!” A voice echoed through the air.

Michael exhaled on a sigh, his body going limp in Ethan’s hold.

Ethan’s hand shook and the Glock tapped against Michael’s head with unspent rage. His gaze lifted from Michael. Joe and three officers stood in the open doorway. He didn’t back down. Nate’s hand closed over his shoulder.

“Come on, dude. Drop it.” Then low, so only Ethan could hear, “We got this.”

Ethan’s grip tightened on Michael’s throat until he thrashed for air. He lifted the gun, pointing it at the ceiling.

“Back away, Ethan.” Joe cautioned as he took a step into the apartment, his gun trained on him.

This was fucking bullshit. He shoved Michael away and straightened.

His teeth cut into his tongue and blood spread through his mouth.

His hands hung at his sides, his shoulders hunched as he approached Joe.

Every urge in his body told him to put them in their place and finish with Michael. But he didn’t need to get shot. If it came down to it, he’d kill everyone who stood in his way of finding Riley. But he couldn’t get himself killed before he found her.

“You’re making a big fucking mistake.” The words vibrated in his throat.

Joe’s jaw tensed as Ethan brushed past him and shoved his way through the officers. Nate followed close behind.

He shut and locked the front door of Riley’s house, his head pressed against the wood. Nate paced down the hall, his phone pressed to his ear as he shouted orders for the warrant to come in. His words didn’t register with Ethan. He was stuck. Every minute that ticked by weighed him down.

Ethan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, but didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?” he barked.

“Ethan, it’s Jenny.” Her voice raised an octave. “What’s going on?”

Ethan cursed. “She’s gone.” The words slowed his heart, and his chest tightened.

“Oh my god.” Her voice trembled. “Have you—”

“I’m doing everything I can. I know who has her, but the cops won’t let me near him. They’re at his house and just made me leave.”

A beat passed. “I can get them to leave.”

Hope spread through him. “How?”

“Leave that to me. Just make sure he doesn’t escape once they’re gone.”

“Will do.” He disconnected, dropped the phone in his pocket, and moved the blinds at the front window.

Nate paced back down the hall, his phone hung limp in his hand and his eyes sharp. “Ethan, there’s banging coming from one of the bedrooms!” He jerked his head toward the end of the hall.

Ethan’s heart rate shot up and his stomach twisted. “Stay at the window and tell me when the cops leave.”

He sprinted down the hall and entered Riley’s bedroom.

Silence greeted him. He balled his hands into fists and he moved soundlessly across the floor.

Michael’s apartment was much smaller than Riley’s.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

It didn’t add up. His brows pinched. From the outside, both units appeared to be of equal size.

How was it possible that Michael’s was so much smaller?

He grabbed the chair from the wall and placed it under the attic access. He thumped the bottom of his fist against the solid wooden door. It didn’t budge. He rested his hand on it, and pressed his ear as close as he could. It had probably been covered with new flooring and—

Thump, thump, thump.

The wood shook against his hand. His heart leapt into his throat, his breath stalled. It was her.

“Ethan!” A muffled scream sounded.

He banged his fist against the wood in response. “I’m coming, Riley!” he bellowed. He leapt to the ground, the chair toppled to the floor. He tore down the hallway, his heart pounded in his chest.

She was alive.

Nate turned from the window as he ran down the hall. “The cops just left with their sirens going.”

“It’s her man. She’s up there.”

“Sonofabitch.” Nate opened the door and Ethan bolted through it without slowing. He jumped down the steps and landed on his feet on the grass. Nate charged behind him. He pulled his Glock from his pants and raced up the stairs. The wooden steps shook beneath his feet. Ethan burst through the door.

“Riley!” he screamed as he stepped through the kitchen. Nothing. Where the hell was she? He paused, and mapped out Riley’s unit below in his mind. Her room should be right next to Michael’s, but—

Michael rounded the corner, a shotgun held firmly in front of him. His finger moved on the trigger and Ethan dove.

Bam.

A shot rang out. His shoulder careened back and pain exploded through his back and chest. His body slammed into Michael and they went down.

He tore the shotgun from Michael’s hands and sent it sliding across the floor.

He positioned the Glock to Michael’s temple, his free hand closed over his throat.

Ethan bared all his weight on his hand. Michael’s legs kicked beneath him and his hands gripped Ethan’s wrist.

“Where is she?”

Nate came up and moved Ethan aside. “You go find her. I’ll take care of this.”

Ethan released his hold and Michael sucked in one breath before Nate’s foot slammed down on his windpipe.

“Oh we’re going to have fun.” Nate laughed.

Ethan raced for the bedroom. The dog greeted him with a soft whine when he opened the door. “Where is she, boy?”

The dog went to the closet and spun in a circle. What the hell? He’d already checked there. He opened the door and the dog went in and scratched the back wall, then whined again. Ethan shoved the shirts aside. In the center of the wall was a handle. His heart lurched.

She was in there.