Ruthless Bastard (Dangerous Love 3)

“Thank God,” Boone said, holding Rhett steady.

Rhett tried to get his bearings. The paramedics were working on Cameron, who began coughing; obviously he’d been knocked out. Peyton and Remy stood just behind Boone, tears in their eyes as they held each other. No, no sadness. Rhett couldn’t take it. He grabbed his phone and called her. The call went straight to voicemail. “Does she ever turn her phone off?"

Boone shook his head. “No. Never.”

Rhett took in another long, deep breath then tore the mask off and dropped it on the ground. He grabbed Boone’s arm. “The security cameras.” He took off running, with Boone hot on his heels, and the firefighters yelling at them to come back.

Every step burned his lungs a little bit more. He stormed back into the station, glancing at the chief’s empty desk. Rhett had failed to keep his promise. He shoved the shame aside. He’d find her…and the baby…his chest constricted tightly, but he shoved that thought aside too, desperate to stay sharp. By the time he was sitting behind his desk and powering up his computer, he was still coughing. He logged into Kinsley’s security system and fast-forwarded through the morning. Nothing.

“Stop there,” Boone snapped, glancing at the monitor over Rhett’s shoulder. “There.”

Rhett hit Play again but now in slow motion. A black van drove up to the back door and half a dozen men wearing ski masks got out, reaching for gas canisters. They gained entry by picking the lock. One man stayed by the door, an obvious lookout.

One minute went by…then two…and then two men charged forward out of the door. One held Kinsley by the waist, the other held her feet.

Life for Rhett stopped then.

Rhett knew pain. He knew what it felt like to have a bullet rip through his flesh. He knew what it felt like to lose people, to watch them bleed out and for the life to fade from their eyes. This…watching helplessly as men shoved Kinsley into a van was something he had no idea how to deal with. Pride filled him as she fought. Kicked and squirmed and punched, but the truth remained. They were physically stronger. And in a minute, they had her shoved into the van with the doors slammed shut. She didn’t come back out.

Kinsley. His child.

They were…gone…

Something inside him cracked and then broke, shattering until he could barely get air in his tight lungs. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. Kinsley…

Boone was on the phone, snapping at the person on the other line, “I need an Ashanti Alert issued.” Much like the Amber Alert, this act helped find endangered adults. “Victim is five-foot-five, brunette, twenty-nine years old, wearing a black jacket and dark jeans. Numerous suspects driving a black van. License plate unknown.” He ended the call abruptly, shoving his hand into his hair. “Why the fuck would they take her? Why? Where?” He frantically paced by Rhett’s desk, looking for all the answers that Rhett couldn’t find either.

Rhett rose on shaky legs. He placed his hands flat on his desk and breathed deep. Kinsley needed him sharp and strong. There would be no finding where they’d taken her fast enough. Unless they found the van, but judging by the timestamp, they were a good hour ahead of them.

Boone loosened a breath. “If they hurt her, I’m going to kill them.”

“No, you won’t,” Rhett said, finally looking up. Boone was too good. Too clean. Rhett…wasn’t. “But I will.” Planning to do whatever it took to find those men, he pushed away from his desk.

“I have—”

Rhett stopped dead, finding Asher in the doorway, looking like he’d seen a ghost. “Fuck,” Asher finally spat. He thrust his hands into his hair, his eyes fraught with worry. “I have no idea how to fucking say this.”

“Talk now,” Rhett ordered, feeling dread seeping into his bones.

Asher glanced at Boone and then back at Rhett, pity in his eyes. “A body was found twenty minutes ago on the 102 near Whitby Falls.” Rhett flopped back in his chair, all the strength gone from his legs, every bit of air squeezed from his lungs as Asher added, “She’s a brunette.”

Chapter 17

Roars echoed across the coastline and small beach area off the main road as Boone fought to make his way past the cop from the Whitby Falls PD. Rhett stood motionless, time ticking by and yet it felt like it hardly moved. They’d roped off the beach area, and from what they’d learned from Asher on the drive to the scene, the body had been dumped over the cliff. Rhett felt like he moved in a fog. He needed to find out if this new life he’d tasted was over. If the one woman who’d touched something deep in his soul was gone. If his unborn child was stolen away.

“Get fucking control of yourself,” the cop yelled, grabbing Boone by the jacket and shoving him back. “You don’t want to see this.”

Boone wasn’t muttering words anymore, just screams, veins popping out of his forehead and neck. His eyes wild with fear.

Where Boone had morals, Rhett did not. He couldn’t wait. Everything around him felt slow and unstable, and if he didn’t act soon, he wasn’t sure what he would do. When it became clear they were never going to let them on the scene, Rhett stepped forward and slammed his hand into the cop’s ribs. The guy dropped, gasping for breath. Rhett raced under the tape, dodging every cop who charged at him.

He had to know…

He had to see…

Another cop went to tackle him, but Rhett turned and maneuvered out of his reach. The cliff was right there…he was so close…

But then arms locked on to him, and Rhett roared, “She’s pregnant with my child. Let me fucking identify her.”