Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(7)

Probably an axe.

My heart raced like a motherfucker, anger and protectiveness and fear this blistering heat that churned a thousand tons of adrenaline through my veins.

My chest cinched tighter with every step as I inched forward.

It made it harder and harder to breathe.

Hit with the overpowering urge to make sure she was close, I reached back for Nikki.

Not sure whether to wrap her up and run with her or rush the fuck inside and take out any asshole stupid enough to still be in there.

Take out any piece of shit who might threaten her.

A fucking landslide of jagged rocks scraped at my throat, and I looked back at Nikki who was watching the whole scene through wide, horrified eyes.

Totally shocked.

My insides curled. Every worry I’d ever had surfaced. A surprise attack.

“You still got 9-1-1 up on your dial?” I gritted through clenched teeth, inclining my ear toward the door, trying to listen for any movement inside.

The frame was splintered. Lock knocked loose. Door hanging open an inch.

“Yes,” she whispered, voice choked.

“Call it. Tell them to hurry,” I urged, nudging the door open with the toe of my boot and taking a quick peek in to look around her tiny apartment.

Stillness echoed back.

But the place . . . it was trashed.

Pictures had been torn from the walls. Lamp knocked to the floor. Couch flipped, ripped apart. In the kitchen, which ran along the far back wall, boxes and cans of food were strewn across the floor.

Ransacked and ravaged.

I roughed a shaking hand over my face, trying to see through the red blaze of hate that clouded my vision.

I could feel my control slipping.

My sanity shifting.

Fuck. It’d been shifting all along—since the night my sister had gone missing and I’d become an entirely different man.

My cool had been nothing but a front as I waited.

As I watched.

As I forced myself to hang back, feign patience, until a debt came due.

It was what kept me moving every day. Hunting for my sister.

It was the singular focus of my life. What I’d devoted myself to.

Could feel a splinter of that focus breaking off as my hands curled with the crushing need to chase down any fucker who would even think about hurting Nikki.

Nikki.

Nikki. Fucking. Walters.

This girl threatened to be my undoing.

From behind, I listened to one side of Nikki’s conversation with the 9-1-1 operator. “Yes, that’s the correct address. The door is busted in, and it has been spray painted.”

“It looks like it was splintered with a sharp object.”

“Second floor apartment.”

I cringed with every detail she reiterated.

Like I was having to see it for the first time.

“No, I don’t think anyone is inside.”

“No one is hurt. There’s no need for an ambulance.”

At least not until I found them.

“I’m not sure,” she said.

Nikki nodded and whispered at me, “She said to wait outside and not touch anything.”

I gave a restrained nod.

It was painful.

I wanted to charge inside. Do a little of that hunting I was made to do.

Protect her.

Just like I’d had the overwhelming need to do earlier, running over here to check on her since she hadn’t returned my text.

I was the dumbass who’d showed up here unannounced.

But what if I hadn’t?

Dread spiraled through me. A slow stir of something that had simmered forever.

Heat igniting beneath it.

All of two minutes passed before we could hear sirens approaching.

My eyes remained on that indigo gaze, refusing to lose sight, wanting to sink deeper.

Search for the secrets I could so clearly see hiding there.

I forced myself to stand still.

Her lips moved slowly as she spoke into her cell. “Yes, thank you, they’re here.”

She ended the call and pulled the phone from her ear.

“Who did this?” The question was nothing but shards of hatred from my tongue.

Slowly, she shook her head, blinked in a confused, agitated fear.

Didn’t matter. I was certain I saw a moment of clarity doused with worry flit through her expression.

Her own intuition meeting with mine.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

I wanted to grab her by the shoulders, shake her, demand more, but two officers were climbing from the cruiser that had just pulled into the parking lot below, their lights spinning through the desolate night.

Couldn’t help but feel grateful when I saw the face of the man who started climbing the steps.

Seth Long.

He was an old friend from high school who’d gone into the academy right after graduation. A good guy. A good cop.

Surprise had him faltering a step when he realized who was standing in front of him. “Nikki . . . Ollie . . . God. The last thing I expected was to roll up here and find you two. Are you okay?”

The obvious answer was no.

But true to form, Nikki turned and plastered on one of her smiles. “Yeah. Thank God. We’re fine.”

Bright, blinding light.

Motherfucking sunshine.

A taste of sweet, sweet lemonade.