Page 3 of Dustin (Thunder Elites Special Ops #4)

(Dustin)

______

“You’re late,” Madison says as soon as I’m standing in front of her.

She’s wearing black joggers and brown boots, topped with a fuzzy brown jacket and sunglasses on her forehead. She looks like she’s going to a fashion show instead of spending nine hours on a flight. Her face is devoid of makeup, but she looks beautiful regardless.

“More like incredibly early,” I tell her with a smirk.

Her hazel-colored eyes narrow.

“What does that mean exactly?”

“It means…my flight doesn’t leave for another three hours,” I inform her.

“You changed your plane ticket.”

“Astute observation,” I say dryly.

It took some pleading before Sam agreed to do me a favor, but eventually, I got him to hack into the airport’s server and change my departure time.

“Can you even do that?”

I shrug. A part of me knows I’m being a little ridiculous and immature.

Shit went down between us five years ago.

I should be able to find it in my heart to forgive her.

I don’t want to be this cruel, petty person, but with her, it’s like I can’t help myself.

She broke my heart. When she left, I felt pain like I’d never felt before, and it scared me—scarred me even.

I don’t want to put myself in such a position again.

I want to do better, and if that means being a terrible asshole to Madison Thrash, then that’s what I’m going to have to be.

“What are you going to do? Tattle on me to your daddy?”

She glares.

“Fuck you, Dustin. We were supposed to arrive together. You just ruined the plan.”

“It’ll be fine. I’d rather things get derailed for a little while than spend all that time in the same space as you.”

She breathes in deeply before stepping closer to me until our chests are touching.

At 6’4, I tower over her, so she has to look up at me.

I pretend her sudden closeness doesn’t affect me.

Her scent is still as intoxicating as it was back then—strawberries and sweet-smelling perfume that clouds my thoughts. Or used to, at least.

“Dustin,” she begins, her voice low, “We’re going to be spending the next few days together whether you like it or not.

I get it. You hate me. That’s fine. But enough with the harsh words and the anger.

We’re not going to be on the same flight, and that’s fine.

You have about ten hours to work through your feelings and cut the attitude. ”

With that, she grabs her suitcase and walks towards boarding. I watch her walk away and force myself to tamper down my irritation when I see a guy check out her ass.

This trip is the embodiment of a bad fucking idea.

****

I arrive at Portugal’s airport late in the evening and immediately call Madison, but to my surprise, her phone is switched off.

I’m supposed to head to the hotel, and as I already have the address, I decide to do just that.

She's probably asleep in her hotel room and forgot to charge her phone.

Or she went to her house instead to avoid me.

Thankfully the receptionist at the hotel speaks English, so getting my key is a breeze. She also informs me that a woman already checked in on my behalf, and was waiting for me upstairs. I’m guessing it’s Madison. I’m wondering why she’s in my room though as I start heading there.

“Madison?” I call, knocking on the door of the room.

There’s no reply which leads me to assume she’s asleep.

I knock a few more times until panic begins to appear. She’s a really light sleeper. If she was asleep in there, she should have woken up.

I turn the knob of the door, and to my utter surprise, it opens.

“What the fuck?” I say to myself.

I take slow, hesitant steps into the room, my eyes peeled for threats. I look around for Madison, but she’s not there. Her clothes are scattered over the bed, and I recognize her suitcase, but she is nowhere in sight.

I grab my phone to call her number again. It’s still switched off.

Fuck!

Different scenarios pop up in my head. She could have been kidnapped or what. If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.

I head back downstairs to the hotel lobby and approach the receptionist.

“Hi, have you seen this woman? She checked in for me earlier?” I question pulling up a picture of Madison and myself that, for some reason, is on my phone.

I’m not sure why I never deleted it, and now is not the time to overanalyze that.

“Yes, she did the check-in. She went up to the room,” the receptionist replies.

“Yes, but did she come down at any point?”

The woman ponders that for a minute.

“Yes, she did. I think I saw her leave about an hour ago. There was a man with her.”

My blood turns cold.

“What man?” I question.

“I didn’t see his face. He was wearing a hoodie and sunglasses.”

The man could have been anybody. He could also have been dangerous. Maybe Madison was threatened into leaving.

My worry rises to an all-time high. I immediately dial Sam’s number.

“Dude, in case you aren’t aware, there’s something called time difference. We aren’t in the same time zone anymore,” Sam says grumpily as soon as the call connects.

“We have a problem, and I need you to do me a favor right now,” I tell him, ignoring his comment.

I hear the sound of sheets rustling, and I’m guessing he’s standing up. Hopefully heading towards his laptop.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Madison’s missing.”

Sam’s quiet for two seconds.

“Shit,” he finally says, and almost immediately, I hear the clicking of his keyboard. “Explain,” he says while he continues typing away.

“I literally just got here. I checked her room in the hotel, and it looked like it’s been ransacked. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and I couldn’t find her. Her phone is off.”

Sam curses.

“Yeah, I can see that now. Listen Dustin, her last traceable location before her phone went off is the D.C. airport. Either she switched it off, or it died before she boarded the plane.”

“What does that mean?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“It means I can’t find her. You’re going to have to look around. Ask anybody if they’ve seen her. You need to find her, and you need to find her fast.”

“I fucking know that,” I growl. “Don’t tell anyone else until I call you again,” I say before hanging up.

I run my hand through my hair as I try to gather my thoughts.

Where could she be?

First and foremost, I need a car. Luckily, there’s a car rental right beside the hotel. Ten minutes later, I’m on the roads of Lisbon, trying and hoping to God that I spot her.

It’s no use, though. I don’t know anybody, and I also can’t start walking the streets of Lisbon, showing her picture to everyone I come across. I don’t even speak the language. With a groan, I pull over onto the side of the street and rest my head on the steering wheel.

Why did I have to be so goddamn stubborn? I should have just gone on the flight with her. If I had done so, then she would be safe right now. The best thing I can do now is head back to the hotel. Maybe there’s someone there who can help me.

My last option is to ask the agency for help. General Thrash will literally murder me in cold blood if he finds out I let anything happen to his daughter.

I head to the hotel and try to explain the situation to the receptionist.

To make things worse, my chest has a rapidly growing ache. I’m terrified for her. I just wish she would walk through the hotel doors—safe and sound.

I choke when the wish actually comes through.

I blink and then blink again as I stare at Madison.

She’s strolling in here as if I didn’t just spend the last hour worried out of my mind.

She looks fine. She's embroiled in a conversation with a man wearing a hoodie and sunglasses like the receptionist’s description.

The first feeling that hits me is relief.

It’s so overwhelming that I'm not sure when my feet start moving toward her. Suddenly I’m standing in front of her, wrapping her in a hug.

“Hey,” Madison says in surprise.

“Do you have any idea how scared I was?”