Page 50 of For Cowgirls and Kings

“The girl, they were at her house again. About thirty minutes ago.” His words echo through my brain, like a bell in a hollow church and I shiver with the severity of their weight. I jog for the door, and grab his collar as I pass, pulling him with me.

The girl—Dale.They—the man we saw on the camera only days ago.

There’s a gasp behind me, but I don’t bother acknowledging it.

I take the stairs two at a time, McCrae hot on my heels. “Are they still there? What do you know?” I pull out my phone, already calling her number.

It’s ringing as McCrae hisses, “It was three, not one this time. And there were four when they left.”

Four?My blood chills. “They took her.”

“Yes, I believe so. All four had masks and were wearing black sweat suits, so I can’t know for sure. But, the one was considerably shorter than the others.”

I smash the ignition button, the truck roaring to life, my foot already punching the gas. The tires squeal but I barely hear it over my roaring heart. The phone rings and rings, and finally goes to voicemail, “Hi, this is Dale. Unfortunately I’m busy, and Queen Tut doesn’t have thumbs so you’ll have to leave a message. Before you do, enjoy this snippet from my favorite song. Cheers!” Before I have a second to end the call, the familiar lyrics of a song blares through, singing about a pink pony and dancing at a club—the words joyful and ridiculous for the seriousness of the moment.

I throw the phone against the dash, needing the music to stop. The memory of that night not long ago, dancing around her living room, for the excuse of being near her is like a knife to the gut. It’s a happy memory, one I cherish, in that hidden part of my heart that’s quickly filling with memories of only Dale.

“Call Nick,” I hiss, urging the car to go faster. We have a three hour drive ahead of us, and I know Dale doesn’t have that kind of time. Not if I want to find her unharmed. “Get him to her house now. Have him fucking break in if he has to, butfigure out if she’s there or not. Don’t let him touch anything else, I don’t want him ruining anything of hers.”

I see McCrae nod, but he doesn’t speak. Numbness spreads like wildfire through my body, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

I stand in the entry of her house, my men and a few local police officers milling around the outside looking for any signs of who might have taken her. The door remains hanging open, just like it was when Nick arrived, the kitchen table overturned, a bowl of what looks like melted ice cream smearing the floor. A picture frame lays shattered on the floor—she fought them—Tut’s bowls overturned, cat food littering the tile.

“Fuck,” I growl, barreling into the house. If her cat is gone when I get her back, she’ll kill me. “McCrae, get in here now and help me look for this cat.”

McCrae wanders up towards the open door, his body a little more than a shadow looming in the entrance. He peers inside, his eyebrows racing toward his hairline. “Uh, this is an interesting house.”

“Shut the fuck up, and get in here.” I drop to my knees looking under the velvety couch.

“Boss, I don’t really like cats.”

I close my eyes, baring my teeth towards the hardwood floors. A growl rips from my chest as I stand up. “I don’t fucking care. We find this cat, or you loose your fucking job. Got it, tough guy?”

He grumbles something unintelligible, but I don’t acknowledgehim any longer as I move toward the ajar door of her room. I’ve never seen inside, she’s only invited me as far as the main part of the house.

I feel like I’m invading her privacy, and even if I hate the circumstances, and can barely think straight past the panic clawing at my throat, I can’t stop the spike of curiosity about her room. She’s so private.

I push the door open, the hinges creaking, and I cringe. Shadows swirl around the small room, but even with the lights off I can see a plush purple bed with fuzzy pillows piled a mile high at the head. I take another step in, and spot a lamp, which I switch on.

Instead of soft yellow light, like a normal human, she has a hazy purple bulb which spreads plum light like a blanket over every surface. I feel like I’m on the inside of a cotton candy machine.

“Queen Tut?” I drop to my knees to feel around under her bed. I hear a small chirp before I feel the fuzziness brush my fingers, and I drop my head to the carpet. “Hey buddy, you okay?”

I pull the life size teddy bear from beneath her bed, putting him up to the light to check for any injuries. His eyes ping around the room like giant marbles rolling around, but otherwise he looks fine.Nervous but fine.

I sit down, my back leaned against her bed, and pull the cat to my chest. I can tell he wants down, his back paws pushing against my chest, but he doesn’t cry or claw me. So I keep holding him, allowing him to calm my racing nerves, just a little.

“Boss?” McCrae pushes into her room, and I have to keep from snapping at him to get out.

“What?” I look up, Tut still clutched to my chest eventhough he’s now squirming more. Like he’s nervous of the newcomer—not that I blame him.

He looks down, clearly uncomfortable. “I found her phone.”

Releasing Tut, I stand up. “Shut that fucking front door so he doesn’t get out. If he escapes, it’s still your head.” He nods, and retreats. I open her phone and groan at the photo background.

It’s Dale, Stetson, and Faith, all glassy-eyed and riding a mechanical bull.I wonder when that happened?

With shaky fingers, I open it. There’s no password, which surprises me because she’s so private, but I’m grateful all the same.