“Where’s yours?” she asks as she digs her key out of her handbag.
“Dash has it, and she’s not answering her phone.”
Danny frowns at me. “That doesn’t mean you have to go all alpha on her. Let the girl enjoy her lunch.”
Scowling at Danny, I take the keys from her. “She was supposed to meet Mom thirty minutes ago.”
“Shit,” Danny mutters. “I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s stuck in traffic.”
“I hope so.” As I leave the office, I bring up the app to track my car, and when I see the location, I phone Mom. The second she answers, I say, “You’re at Beverly Boulevard, right? Is Dash there?”
“I’m here, and your car is parked across the road, but there’s no sign of her. Did you reach her?” Mom asks.
“I’m on my way,” I say as a fist of worry clamps around my heart.
She’s fine. Stay calm.
Rushing to Danny’s car, I slip behind the steering wheel. It’s hard keeping to the speed limit as I navigate the vehicle through traffic. I keep trying Dash’s number, and with every unanswered call, it feels as if the grip on my heart tightens.
Coming down Beverly Boulevard, I see my car up ahead and park behind it.
Getting out, I glance up and down the street, but there’s no sign of Dash. I walk to my car and trying the driver’s side door, by blood chills when it opens, and I see Dash’s handbag on the passenger seat and the key in the console between the seats.
I grab her bag and opening it, I find her phone.
Fuck.
“Christopher?” I hear Mom call. Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as she crosses the road.
“Still no sign of Dash?” I ask.
She shakes her head, and it has me looking up and down the road again. It’s already been an hour.
She wouldn’t leave the key and her handbag in the car.
Fuck, something happened.
Pulling my phone out, I dial my brother’s number.
“This is a surprise,” Tristan answers.
“Dash is missing.” Just saying the words out loud makes my stomach churn and my heartbeat speed up. “I need you.”
“Where are you?” Tristan asks.
“7415 Beverly Boulevard,” I give him the address.
Ending the call, I climb into my car to check the dashcam. I press the button to get the playback menu, and then I watch as the car comes down the road.
“Christopher,” Mom whispers, her voice tight with worry.
“Give me a minute,” I mutter, my jaw tense as I watch my car come to a stop. I hear Dash move, and then she gasps, ‘What the hell?’
My muscles tighten as I hear a muffled scream, and then the footage stops.
It becomes hard to breathe, and then I hear Mom say, “Carter, you need to come right now. Something happened to Dash.”
I can’t take in anything else and closing my eyes, I try to process what happened.
Feeling caged in, I get out of the car, and glancing up and down the street again, panic bleeds through me.
Where the hell is Dash?
Lifting a hand, I rub over my face as the realization that she’s been kidnapped shudders through me.
I’m going to kill whoever took her.
God.
Dash.
Mom wraps an arm around me. “Dad’s coming.”
I nod, unable to process the fact that Dash is missing, that she was taken.
I have no idea who would take her.
Is it to hold her ransom?
When Tristan’s car comes to a screeching halt behind Danny’s, I stalk to him.
The instant he’s out of the car, he asks, “Do you know anything?”
“She was taken here, but the dashcam footage doesn’t show anything.”
“Let me check. She was probably followed.” He pulls his phone out, and then I hear him say, “Alexei, can you get me any CCTV footage near 7415 Beverly Boulevard for the past two hours?” A couple of seconds later, he mutters, “Thanks.”
“We should call the police,” Mom says.
I shake my head. “Once we call them, our hands are tied.”
I climb back into the driver’s side while Tristan gets into the passenger side. We go to the footage of when Dash left Indie Ink.
Chapter 15
DASH
Coming to, there’s a slight pounding in my head, and I feel disorientated. I try to search my memory, but the last thing I remember is driving to meet Aunt Della.
“Finally,” I hear a man grumble, and it makes my eyes snap open. It takes a moment for my sight to focus, and then a frown forms on my forehead as I stare up at Josh.
“Josh?” I slur, still feeling out of it. “What happened?”
“You don’t get to talk,” he growls at me. When my eyes connect with his, and I see no emotion in his irises, fear ripples through me.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Scared of what’s going to happen next, I struggle into a sitting position, which makes my head spin.
Josh slowly walks around me, like an animal stalking its prey.
Oh, God. This is bad.