Page 103 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Chapter Fifteen
Ezra
“Just head toward the industrial area,” I reply, pulling out my phone to check the tracker again. “She was last seen near the old warehouses. I’ll guide you.”
Elijah nods, his eyes focused on the road as he pulls out of the lot. “Got it. Let me know when to turn.”
I keep my gaze glued to the screen, watching the dot move steadily across the map. “Okay, take a left at the next intersection. We need to cut through the side streets to avoid traffic.”
He obeys without hesitation, navigating the car with precision. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through me, my heart racing as I track Wren’s movements.
“Now, right here!” I shout, pointing as we approach the turn. “We can’t let her get too far ahead.”
Elijah swerves into the turn, tires screeching slightly against the asphalt. “Hold on,” he says, his voice steady despite the urgency. “I’ll get us there.”
We speed down the road, the city lights flashing by in a blur. I can feel the tension building between us, a shared sense of urgency driving us forward. “Keep going straight for a few blocks, then we’ll need to take a left at the next light.”
“On it,” Elijah responds, his focus unwavering.
I glance at him, noting the determination etched on his face. He’s always been the level-headed one, but tonight, I can see the worry in his eyes. “We’ll find her,” I say, trying to reassure both him and myself. “We have to.”
“Yeah,” he replies, his voice firm. “We will.”
As we approach the intersection, I can see the glow of the warehouse lights in the distance. “That’s it! Turn left here!” I direct him, my heart pounding as we make the turn.
Elijah accelerates, the engine roaring as we close the distance. “I can’t believe she’s out here alone,” he mutters, his gaze fixed ahead.
“Neither can I,” I reply, my stomach churning with worry. “But we’re not letting her face this alone. Not again.”
We round the corner, and I can see the warehouse looming ahead, dark and foreboding. “Pull up close to the entrance,” I instruct, my voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. “We need to get out fast.”
Elijah obeys, parking the car with a screech of tires. “Let’s do this,” he says, determination etched on his face. I grab the Glock 19s from the glove box and dash out of the car. Hold on merlotta, we’re coming for you.
“Call Evan at CPD and get us some assistance,” Elijah grits out, his voice low but intense as we approach the entrance of the warehouse.
“I’m not waiting for them to get in there. Wren needs us,” I reply, urgency lacing my words as I glance at the darkened doorway ahead.
“I know, brother,” Elijah responds, his eyes narrowing with determination. “I’m saying for after we beat the shit out of whoever is in there.” I can’t help but crack a small, grim smile at his words.
Elijah pulls out his phone as we reach the entrance. “I’ll call him now. Just keep an eye out.”
I stand close to the door, peering into the dimly lit interior. The shadows seem to dance, and every creak of the warehouse sends a shiver down my spine. “Hurry,” I urge, my heart racing as I scan the area for any sign of Wren.
After Elijah dials, I can hear him speaking to Evan, his voice steady but urgent.
“Hey, it’s Elijah. We’re at the old warehouse on Fifth Street.
We think our girl is being held here, and we might have company.
We need backup, fast.” I hand Elijah one of the pistols as I aim the other toward the warehouse.
As Elijah finishes his call, I can see the tension in his shoulders. He slips the phone back into his pocket, his expression resolute. “Alright, we go in now. No more waiting.”
I nod, gripping the pistol tightly in my hand. “On three,” I say, feeling the weight of the moment. “One… two… three!”
We push the door open, and it creaks ominously as we step inside. The air is thick, filled with dust and the faint smell of oil. Shadows loom around us, and I can hear the faint sound of dripping water echoing in the distance.
“Stay low,” Elijah whispers, his voice barely above a murmur. We move cautiously, our footsteps muffled by the grime-covered floor. I scan the area, my heart pounding as I search for any sign of Wren.
“Wren!” I call out, my voice cutting through the silence. “Where are you?”
No response. Just the eerie stillness of the warehouse.
“Let’s check the back rooms,” Elijah suggests, his eyes darting around. “If she’s here, she might be hiding.”
We make our way deeper into the warehouse, moving past stacks of crates and old machinery that loom like specters in the shadows. Every creak of the building sends a jolt of adrenaline through me. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re not alone.
As we approach a doorway leading to a dimly lit corridor, I hear a faint noise—a soft whimper, barely audible. My heart races. “Did you hear that?” I whisper urgently.
Elijah nods, his expression serious. “It’s coming from down that hall.”
We move toward the sound, adrenaline surging. I peek around the corner, and my breath catches in my throat. There, in the flickering light, I see a figure slumped against a chair. Her long black hair shields her face but I can see her bound wrists and legs as rage ricochets through my body.
“Wren!” I shout, my heart racing as I rush forward, but Elijah grabs my arm, pulling me back just in time.
“Wait!” he hisses, his eyes darting around the room. “We don’t know if Richard is still here.”
I can barely contain my anger, but I nod, trying to rein in my emotions. “We have to get her out of here,” I say, my voice low and urgent.
Elijah scans the area, looking for any signs of danger. “I’ll cover you. Just get to her.”
With that, I edge closer to Wren, my heart pounding in my chest. As I approach, I can see the fear in her eyes, and it fuels my determination. “I’m here, Wren. We’re going to get you out,” I whisper, kneeling beside her.
“Ezra…” she breathes, relief flooding her voice. “How did you–”
“We will always find you, Wren.”
“I thought… I thought he was going to kill me.”
“Not a chance,” I reply, quickly assessing her bindings. “I’m going to get you free. Just hold on.”
I fumble with the knots, my hands shaking with urgency. I can hear Elijah moving cautiously behind me, keeping watch for any threats. “Hurry, man,” he urges, his voice tense.
Finally, I manage to loosen the ropes around her wrists. “You’re almost free,” I say, glancing up at her bruised and bloodied face. “Just a little more.”
As I work on her legs, I hear a noise behind us—a soft shuffle, then a low, mocking laugh. My heart drops as I turn to see Richard emerging from the shadows, a smug grin on his face.
“Did you really think you could just waltz in here and take her?” he taunts, raising his weapon.
“Get away from her!” Elijah shouts, stepping in front of me, his own gun aimed at Richard.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Richard sneers. “This is your last chance to turn back.”
“Not a chance,” I growl, finally freeing Wren’s legs. “We’re not leaving without her.”
Wren looks at me, her eyes wide with fear and gratitude. “You shouldn’t have come,” she whispers, but I shake my head.
“We’re not leaving you here,” I insist, standing up and positioning myself protectively in front of her.
“Backup is on the way,” Elijah adds, his voice steady. “You’re surrounded, Richard. You can’t win this.”
Richard’s expression shifts, uncertainty flickering across his face. “You think they’ll save you?” he scoffs, but I can see the doubt creeping in.
“Yeah, I do,” I reply, my grip tightening on my gun. “And you’re about to find out just how wrong you are.”
The tension in the air is palpable as we stand ready, prepared to fight for Wren and for our lives. With every second that passes, I can feel the stakes rising. The sirens are getting closer, and I know we just need to hold on a little longer.
“Let’s end this,” Elijah says, his voice low and fierce.