The Mogul And The Muscle

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He looked around frantically, then turned to me again. “I’ll go for help.”

“What?” I whispered.

“Just stay here. I’ll get you out of this. We can talk about the company later.”

I watched with disbelief as Bobby tugged on the lapels of his jacket and sauntered toward the door.

“Bathroom,” he said, gesturing out to the hallway. “I don’t think the one in here is even hooked up. But I have to take a shit the size of a Coke right now, and trust me, you do not want me to hold it or I’m going to burn the nose hairs off everyone on this floor. The can in the lobby still works. I’ll be right back.”

The henchmen exchanged irritated glances, then one nodded for him to go.

I looked at Inda and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Held captive by the Russian mafia in a dilapidated hotel and Bobby Spencer—the dumbass who’d orchestrated the whole thing—was our best hope of rescue?

Yeah, we were fucked.

33

JUDE

C ameron’s phone seemed to stare back at me, the glossy rectangle sending a spike of alarm through my entire body.

She wasn’t here.

With a deep breath, I banished the panic. I was good in a crisis. Calm. Cold when it was necessary. I drew on my training and years of experience to push aside the fear that something bad had happened to her.

Besides, just because she’d left her phone behind didn’t mean she was in danger.

A voice in the back of my head screamed at me that she was. She was in danger, right fucking now, and I needed to get to her.

My instincts had gone haywire, and I knew exactly why. I’d been compromised. I loved her and it was making me irrational.

Logic. No emotion. Focus on the mission.

I grabbed her phone and stuffed it in my pocket, then jogged downstairs.

“Nicholas,” I called.

He was still in the kitchen. Meat sizzled in a pan on the stove and if I’d been in a normal state of mind, my stomach would have growled at the mouthwatering aroma.

“Yeah?”

My voice was completely calm. “Cameron left her phone. Would you mind calling Inda? I really need to talk to Cameron.”

“I’m sure they won’t be gone too long,” he said, stirring the meat.

“Just call her.”

He stopped stirring, his eyes lifting. “Okay, man. Sorry.”

I took slow breaths while he pulled out his phone and called his wife.

The seconds ticked by and I could tell she wasn’t answering. He turned off the burner and moved the pan.

“That’s weird,” he said. “Her voicemail picked up. Should I leave a message?”

“No. I’m going to look for them.” I headed straight for the front door.

Nicholas followed. “Dude, you’re freaking me out right now. They just went down to the village. They haven’t even been gone very long.”

“I know.” I locked the front door behind us and bounded down the porch steps.

“Then why are you acting like this is an emergency?”

“Because it might be.” I got on my bike. “And if it is, we’re losing time. Are you coming?”

“Crap,” he muttered, and got on behind me.

The two of us barely fit on my bike, but we didn’t have far to go. We followed Cameron’s driveway out to the street, then crossed the bridge over the canal. The road wound around and the village came into sight up ahead.

Cameron’s golf cart was in the middle of the street. Empty.

I stopped the bike and we both jumped off. Nicholas was babbling something, but I ignored him. I took in the scene, looking at every detail. No sign that they’d been hit. No tire marks or tracks. The foliage on either side of the road was undisturbed.

“Inda’s phone,” Nicholas said, holding it up. “She must have dropped it. Should we go look down at the Tiki Hut?”

I checked the golf cart again and realized the almost silent electric motor was still running. They hadn’t broken down and left it here. They might not have stopped intentionally at all.

“No. Someone took them.”

“Shit, are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

“What are we going to do?” he asked. “Call the police?”