Page 139 of The Moments You Were Mine

Why the fuck hadn’t I checked the plane for bombs? Because I’d been too distracted by Theo’s blank face, and Fallon’s fear, and Puzo’s goddamn games.

I forced my legs to move, racing across the tarmac just as the plane exploded behind me, sending me to my knees once again.

Fire engines lit up the runway, heading toward the flames.

I jerked myself to my feet and sprinted toward the hangar.

The side door was locked when I yanked on it. The roll-up door was down and bolted. I jogged in the direction the sedan had gone.

The tower. They’d have cameras. They’d have an ID on the license plate.

Something bright and shiny caught my eye. The realization of what it was hit me in the chest with the strength of a fist. Several of the beads from the bracelet Theo had insisted on buying Fallon were scattered on the ground.

He’d taken her.

She’d been taken on my watch.

I reached into my back pocket for my phone and came up empty.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I’d wasted too much time already. The sedan was long gone. He was at least five minutes ahead by now. My truck was locked in the goddamn hangar, which meant he’d be at least ten minutes away by the time I found a vehicle to go after him.

I turned back to where the fire truck had stopped by the plane’s wreckage. They’d already hauled their hoses out and were dousing the fire with foam retardant. An ambulance screeched to a halt next to the truck. Voices shouted out orders.

As I tore back across the tarmac, an EMT turned toward me. His eyes went wide. “Sir. Sir. Were you in the plane?”

“Phone. I need a goddamn phone!”

“Have a seat. We’re trying to find the other person. Do youknow where she is?” he asked.

I shoved his hands aside as he tried to propel me toward the back of the ambulance. “She’s gone. He took her. I need a fucking phone!”

“Calm down. You’re bleeding. Confused.”

I swiped at my aching forehead and came away with blood. I’d have a knot that matched hers when I found her.

And I would. I would fucking find her.

I grabbed the man by his shoulders, flipped him around so his back was to my front and my arm was pressed into his neck, and demanded, “What I need is a phone. Hand yours over.”

“Parker? It’s Parker, right?”

My eyes jerked up to see a firefighter making his way toward us. His eyes were narrowed as he glanced from me to the EMT I had in a chokehold. The firefighter was the guy who’d been at Fallon’s side the day of the cabin fire. He put a hand out as if to calm me down.

“I’m Beckett. This is Fallon’s plane, right? Can you tell me where she is? She was onboard with you? Piloting?”

“She’s been taken. I need a fucking phone.”

Beckett’s eyes narrowed. “Taken. Kidnapped?”

“For fuck’s sake. Yes. I need a goddamn phone.”

He whipped his out of his pocket. “Let Jon there go,” he said with a nod toward the EMT. I shoved the man away from me, and he stepped back, anger pouring off him as he grabbed his throat.

Beckett placed a call. Wylee. He was calling the damn sheriff. I needed my team! I needed Cranky and Sweeney.

“I need to get to the ranch,” I bellowed, but no one moved. No one listened. I wasn’t their commander. I wasn’t their teammate. I needed mine.