Breathe (Colorado Mountain #4)(166)

Fuck.

Fuck.

He moved up the hall, stopping at the mouth and tipping his head down to the phone.

Fifteen minutes, if they incapacitated her, had a car, they could be long gone.

He stared at his phone.

Four hours of air.

Chace kept staring at his phone.

Dig her out.

Chace continued to stare at his phone.

She’ll run out of breath.

Memories collided in his brain.

Faye staring at him the first time she did it with that wonder in her eyes, on the sidewalk outside La-La Land when he apologized for being a dick. He didn’t know it then but she did it because she had a crush on him and he was, also for the first time, close.

It affected her so much, just him being close, she stopped breathing.

So he’d whispered, Breathe, Faye.

And right before he wrapped her hand around his c**k the first time they’d made love, she’d been holding her breath.

So he’d murmured, Breathe, baby.

And that very night when he’d put his ring on her finger.

Baby, he’d whispered, Breathe.

She’ll run out of breath.

Breathe.

“Chace?” Tate’s voice came at him from close, his head jerked up and when Tate saw him, his face went from questioning to alert. “Christ, man, what’s goin’ on?”

“They’ve got Faye,” he growled.

“Who?” Tate asked.

“The Elite,” Chace answered tersely, those two words raw and he didn’t see Tate’s chin jerk back. He was moving toward the door, pushing through the crowd, vaguely hearing Tate shout men’s names but his mind was scrambling.

Darren Newcomb was not a bud. Chace detested the man. He avoided him as best he could. He had no idea who he’d trust. He had no idea where he’d hide that shit. He had no idea who he might give it to.

“Fuck,” Chace hissed, pushing open the door and hitting buttons on his phone.

He stopped outside, hit reply then typed in, I’ll find it, you’ll get it but I’ll need more time and then he hit send.

“Chace, talk,” Tate ordered and Chace looked up to see Tate there with Bubba, Deke, Wood, Jim-Billy and Deck.

“There’s shit out there,” he told them.

“We know,” Tate replied. Always sharp, Tatum Jackson. He knew exactly what was going on.

“They want it. From their message it sounds like they’ve buried Faye somewhere. She’s got four hours for me to find that shit and get it to them or she runs out of air.”

“Buried her?” Deck growled, his big body tense, his mood drifting dangerously through the air and Chace shoved his phone to his friend who took it but suddenly it all came clear and his eyes sliced to Tate.

“Tate, call Max. Get him to get to George Nielson, find him, drag his ass out of bed if he has to and find out what he knows or if he can find out anything. Max isn’t up for that, I need a man to go to Gnaw Bone who is,” Chace ordered, Tate lifted up his chin and stepped away.

His phone chimed and Deck hit buttons, then his eyes came to Chace. “They said you got four hours, no more,” he told him, jaw hard, eyes glittering.

Chace looked at his friend. “That number, from the text, use your superpowers. Get a lock on it.” Deck nodded, stepped back and pulled out his own phone. Chace looked to Wood. “You call Ty. I know it’s shit on a night as good as tonight for him but we need to pull him in. He needs to connect with Dewey. Dewey knows everything about everyone. Get Ty to get Dewey on the move collecting intel. Dewey can find out or even has ideas, we need to know who may be in play and how they’ll play it.”

“Right, bud,” Wood muttered and stepped away.

Chace reached out and yanked his phone out of Deck’s hand then he took off running towards Faye’s apartment.

“Fuck! Where you goin’?” Bubba shouted at his back as he ran and hit buttons on his phone.

He put it to his ear and listened to it ring. It rang four times and he was about to disconnect in order to reconnect and wake that jackass up when he heard his father’s voice.

“Chace?”

“Dad –” he started, his breath heavy but Trane cut him off.

“It’s nearly two in the morning.”

“Shut the f**k up and listen. Your buddies lost patience. They’ve buried Faye alive. I got four hours to get the shit out there back to them or she runs out of air. Get your ass out of bed on the phone or in your car or f**kin’ both and find out where Faye is.”

“Buried alive?” Trane whispered as Chace took the turn into the alley toward Faye’s apartment hearing footfalls behind him.

“Every second you waste is a second of air she does not have,” Chace growled into the phone as he made the next turn into the back alley then he disconnected.

He sprinted up her steps hearing men taking them behind him. He yanked out his keys, opened the door and surged through. He ran straight to her desk, turned on the lamp there and hit the button for her computer.

“Brother, you gotta let us in on what’s goin’ on in your head so we can move out and find your girl,” Deck told him as Chace searched through the shit on Faye’s desk, yanking at it, his hands hitting shit he didn’t need, it falling to the floor unheeded then he found it. Her address book.