No Limit (Armed & Dangerous #1)(55)



“It’s in my car.”

“Good, I’m going to need it.”

Pulling up to the front of the hotel, the valet attendants gave us a wide berth; especially me considering my shirt was covered in blood. I ran through the lobby straight to the elevators with Ryan on my heels.

“What if I’m too late?” I rushed into the elevator, pacing like a caged animal. “Fuck, how could I be so goddamned stupid?”

“We’ll find her. Just do what you have to do and we’ll be on our way.”

“I sure hope you’re right.” The elevator doors opened and I ran to our room. Once inside, I booted up my laptop and rushed to find a change of clothes. My hair was matted with dried up blood but I didn’t care. Ryan grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and set it beside my laptop.

“Drink something. I can’t have you dying on me before we get there.”

I sat down and my fingers went ninety miles an hour as I typed in the codes. It was something I’d learned a long time ago.

“What are you doing?”

“When Aylee was brought into this mission, I put trackers on her personal items. It was the only thing I knew that would work.” I continued to type away and was almost there.

Ryan slapped me on the shoulder, figuring it out. “Well, I’ll be damned. Does she know?”

I shook my head, remembering that night all too well. “We argued one night and I left. I didn’t really leave, I just went downstairs and blew some money away. After my head cleared, I snuck into her room and inserted trackers into her things. The main one being her gun but that doesn’t help, considering she doesn’t have it. Now all I have to do is pray that she’s wearing one.”

Taking a deep breath, I typed in the last button and waited on the results to calculate. One by one, the trackers started to show up on the screen. Most of them were in the hotel with one out in the parking deck that was most likely her gun still in my car.

“Is that all of them?”

“No . . .” I zoomed out and found a blinking light. “There she is,” I said, zooming back in so I could pinpoint the address. It was three f*cking hours away. “Jesus. We need a helicopter, now. Can you get one?” Slamming the laptop down, I put it under my arms and stormed toward the door.

“Where is she? I’ll call it in.”

Rushing down the hall, I felt everything crushing in all around me. If anything happened to her I was going to make sure someone paid for it. The elevator door opened and I marched inside, my body coiled and ready to fight. “Arizona. Now get me the f*ck there.”





I drifted in and out of consciousness, not knowing for how long or what day it was. My head still hurt but I was actually on a soft bed this time and not just thrown on the floor. What I really wanted to know was if it had been Jason beside me in the car. And if it was, was he okay?

My arms felt heavy but my wrists weren’t tied like they were in the vehicle. Air conditioning blew across my bare skin, making me well aware that I was only in my bra and underwear. I was afraid to open my eyes for fear of what I’d see. When I opened them, I was met with darkness. Only a small amount of light was filtering into the room through a crack in the door. There were no windows; no possible route of escape.

Voices could be heard in the next room and I immediately recognized the high pitched whine of Georgia Blackwell. I remembered her voice in my ear and the smell of her perfume. As soon as I got the chance, I was going to put a bullet through her f*cking brain. The other voice, however, sounded vaguely familiar, but it definitely wasn’t Drake.

The bed creaked as I moved across it, my feet touching the cold and smooth floor. My stomach rolled with the smell of death permeating the air. Not many people could pinpoint the odor, but after witnessing horrific murder scenes it was a smell you couldn’t forget.

Georgia was speaking. “What the hell are we waiting for? Let’s finish this and get out of here. The sooner they find them, the sooner this can be over and we can be together.”

I moved closer, hoping to hear the other person’s voice. The only reply from him was a grunt. I finally got to the door and peeked through the crack. I could see her with her arms crossed, a disgruntled look on her face, leaning against a long wooden table in her black lingerie.

Considering there were no windows, we had to be in a basement. However, that wasn’t my biggest concerned. For when she moved away from the table, I got a good view of the ropes and chains on both ends, stained red. The source of the stale blood smell. It wafted to my nose and I threw a hand over my mouth to stop from gagging. I breathed through my mouth, trying desperately to think up an escape plan. There were two of them and only one of me. I couldn’t even see the stairs leading to the upper levels. Fuck, f*ck, f*ck.

Georgia stormed over to a corner, but I couldn’t see that far. “Are you even listening? Turn around and talk to me, dammit!” The next thing I heard was a slap and the sound of her choking. With a hand around her throat, she was hauled back to the table and I hid out of sight, putting my back against the wall.

“Why don’t you shut the f*ck up for once,” he growled. Clothes ripped and she yelped, but it wasn’t in pain.

“Oh my God, yes,” she moaned.

The sound of bodies smacking together made me sick. What the hell just happened? I peered around the side and that was when I got a good look at the man who was f*cking her from behind, jeans halfway down his legs. No f*cking way. I may have only seen the guy once, but he was the spitting image of his father.

L.P. Dover's Books