“Was Winter with them?” Vito asks and I’m thankful that he’s taking over the conversation because Polo has one more brow to raise before I split his lip.
“Winter?” Polo asks and he taps that damn chin of his once again before snapping his fingers. “No, she didn’t leave with them.”
I still.
Well, fuck.
If I thought Winter going off with Enzo and Maximo could lead to something disastrous, then her going off by herself is even worse. At least if she was with those two, the only danger that would present itself to her would be Maximo himself. He wouldn’t let anyone else do anything to her.
A weird feeling moves through my abdomen and I remain still, not allowing it to overwhelm me.
Concern.
I recognise the feeling for what it is and I know it’s because if Winter is gone then my hand is shit. My move against Maddox is mostly based on having her in my pocket. If she’s gone, or he gets her in his clutches now…
Everything goes to shit.
Polo snaps again, even louder this time. “She went to the bathroom,” he says as if just now remembering.
The bathroom.
Some kind of way I forgot that she asked me if she could go earlier. How long ago had that even been?
Fuck.
I hadn’t been paying attention other than to tell her to take Enzo with her. The small slip in memory has me clenching my fists.
I never allow myself to be distracted, how in the hell did I let it happen earlier?
“You said Enzo and Maximo left before she did?” I ask Polo.
He gives a slow nod, “Yeah, she left a good ten minutes or so after they did.”
Vito is already shouldering past Polo to head of the owner’s box. I follow, keeping my steps slow and even. I can’t show my worry on the outside, or my annoyance at my own self for the lack of diligence. I can only allow myself to feel it on the inside.
Curly black hair flashes in my head and I squeeze my jaw tight.
Nothing is going to happen to her.
At least not until I get my hands on her, because once I do I’m going to wring her neck while I fuck her and remind her that she’s not allowed to do anything without my permission. She sure as shit isn’t allowed to wander off without an escort after I’d given her clear orders to take one with her.
I shove a hand into my pocket, my nails biting into the fabric.
Vito reaches the bathroom a couple of steps ahead of me and it’s still on the backswing by the time I make it to it. I shoulder it open, listening to the satisfying crack of it slamming against the wall.
“Fuck.” Vito’s curse has my feet moving quicker.
He’s standing in front of one of the sinks, his gaze on the silver faucet. It takes me a second to see the red coating the instrument and when I do, hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
“The tracker,” I mutter, keeping my gaze on that stark red stain.
Vito pulls out his phone, his fingers moving across the screen even as his gaze is surveying the rest of the room.
My gaze drops to the floor and I frown when I see the yellow puddle on the ground.
“She pissed herself.”
Vito looks down, his gaze locking onto the smear and he lets out another swear. His eyes move over his screen. “It’s still on,” he tells me.