Page 134 of Retribution

I don’t trust anyone in this city.

Saying my goodbyes, I hurry back to Grant. Leila is refusing the bottle, so I put on the carrier and pop her inside while I sing softly to her. Leila’s gorgeous eyes gaze up at me as we walk across the floor, the harsh fire alarm finally going silent. I’m surprised she didn’t freak out during it.

Paula takes her hand off the emergency fire alarm and speaks into the radio before nodding.

“The elevators are operational again, sir. I’ll make sure the detectives are taken care of,” she says.

“I appreciate it. Thank you,” I say. “I’ll be at home calling in some favors.”

“I didn’t hear that,” she says easily. “I’ll reach out as necessary.”

Paula not only divulges everyone’s secrets, she occasionally keeps mine too.

Grant and I make our escape out the elevator once it arrives, my mind running a million miles a minute.

I still can’t feel any hint of Isolde, and I’m worried she’s too far away.

Hold on, darlin’. I’m going to find you.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Oliver

“The police lost the van,” I growl, my blood boiling. My ears are ringing from how high my pressure is and how hard my heart is pounding.

Alesso has the police scanner on, and we are listening while I follow the van on video cameras around the city. Isolde’s kidnappers were passing cars at an alarming speed to get away from the police cars. Now, I’m doing my due duty of changing every intersection light to red that I can, cursing as they blow through each one.

The van finally turns down a road and I attempt to find them but can’t.

“This isn’t happening right now,” I rasp, checking the different camera angles. “The van disappeared, Alesso.”

“Vehicles don’t disappear,” he says, his voice cracking with strain. “Did it duck into a parking garage or an alley? They would be stupid not to change vehicles soon.”

I take the images of the faces of the men who kidnapped my girl and feed them into a program to find them.

“I’m working on it. Get me the number you have for the Kelly’s, please,” I say.

One inherent problem with my program is that if the men significantly change their facial features, they won’t be picked up. I need to fucking do something before I lose my damn mind.

“Yes,” Alesso says tightly, pulling up the number. Both our phones ding, and he blinks down at his. “Grant, Lucas, and thebambinaare on their way home as well.”

“Good, good,” I grunt. “It means the police aren’t holding them for questioning. I found a report that one of her kidnappers was killed on scene.”

“She didn’t leave without a fight,” Alesso says. “Isolde will keep fighting for us.”

She shouldn’t have to.

Taking his phone, I enter the number into my phone since he somehow pissed off the brothers. I’m the last person to throw stones. I’ve managed to piss off a lot of people in Minneapolis.

“We all had a bad feeling about this outing,” I mutter. “I think that?—”

“Hello?”a deep voice answers. “Why do you have this number?”

Glancing at the contact, I see that it’s Duncan’s number.

“Hi, this is Oliver,” I say, knowing I haven’t given more information than this to them. “This may be odd, but we met at Slick Dreams. My pack needs a favor.”

“Back up. Pack? Since when do you have a pack?”Duncan asks.