Bait & Switch (Alphas Undone #1)(42)

The memory blurred at the edges, my mind still foggy so the details were just out of reach. My heart galloped at the memory. I’d struggled with a man much bigger and stronger than I was, trying to scream, trying to make a scene so that one of my neighbors would notice. But it had all happened so fast. Before I knew it, I was being shoved into the back of a car in the parking lot. The white sedan I’d seen a few times before. A second man in the driver’s seat had sped off just as I lost consciousness.

Studying my surroundings, trying to gather up every detail I could, I strained my eyes in the gloom, ears pricked for the smallest sound. But there was nothing.

A chill of dread crept down my spine. This had to do with Troy; I just knew it. And this time, there would be no running away. I had a horrible feeling I was going to die here.

No, no.

I fought back a wave of tears and nausea, forcing myself to calm down and keep listening. My captor was probably upstairs. But I couldn’t hear any movement or talking. It was dead silent, only the whoosh of my heartbeat thudding in my ears.

I checked myself over for injuries. Lifting my bound hands, I felt a lump under my hair on the back of my head. Ouch. I winced and pulled my hands away from the tender skin. But other than having to pee terribly, I seemed to be fine. For now.

God, I’m such an idiot. Why hadn’t I told someone—my dad, Nolan, anybody—about what was going on? Thinking of Nolan made my chest ache and my eyes sting. I wanted him to hold me so badly.

My stupid goddamn plan had failed. He had no idea where I was, and even if he could somehow figure it out, did I even deserve for him to rescue me? I’d f*cked everything up beyond belief. One way or another, our relationship was almost certainly over. His life with Daniella would go back to normal, our whole brief affair forgotten.

Heavy footsteps thudded overhead and I froze. My heart pounding, I sank back against the wall, bracing myself for whatever came next.





Chapter Twenty


Nolan

It’s my daughter, Lucky. Those four simple words had sent adrenaline surging through me.

Barton had lost too much, seen too much action, and buried too many men over the years. If it was me he trusted to save his daughter, I was sure as shit bringing her back alive, and not in some body bag. At least I’d do my best, and if I died trying, so be it. It was a fair trade, as far as I was concerned. I didn’t know much about his children, only that he had two grown daughters he was immensely protective of.

My assignment was simple. Barton had been tracking these *s for a while. Apparently they were connected with that same Oklahoma City drug ring I’d assisted the police with a few weeks ago. His informant said the kidnappers drove a white sedan and were at a house in North Dallas, near Ridgecrest and Hemlock.

I grimaced; the Five Points area was one of the city’s worst neighborhoods. But with a little help from a friend, I’d be more than up to the task.

Daniella had been confused at the sudden interruption, but she understood why I couldn’t always share the details about my job. After she wished me luck and resumed packing, I called Greyson to tell him I needed backup. Barton trusted me to build my own team, and Greyson was the best choice. Having spent so many years working closely together, we operated as each other’s shadow. I picked him up at his house and debriefed him while we drove to Redstone.

We checked out a pair of handguns and bulletproof vests from the company’s armory. Barton had pulled some strings to equip his employees with firearms identical to those they had used in the service. It wasn’t just for sentimental value; even after retraining, operating a different gun from the one you were used to could cost precious milliseconds or crucial accuracy. So I got a shiny new SIG P226 Navy pistol. Small enough to conceal, but big enough to kill anything that moved. I could only pray this assignment wouldn’t come to that.

Once Greyson and I were fully outfitted, we headed to the intersection of Ridgecrest and Hemlock. From there, we drove in widening circles, keeping an eye out for a building that fit the informant’s description. It didn’t take long to spot a small, dilapidated ranch house with a white sedan parked out front.

Keeping low, I crept across the overgrown yard to look in the window. I saw a mostly bare living room with mold-stained walls. The single naked light bulb on the ceiling cast more shadows than it banished. A man sat on the couch, hunting knife in hand, watching the front door. The skin on the back of my neck prickled.

This was definitely the right place. I turned my attention to the layout of the room. Its only access points seemed to be the front door and the kitchen. If they had a hostage here, I was guessing she and her guard weren’t the only ones present, since Barton had told me the kidnapping was gang-related. More people were probably waiting elsewhere in the house. But how many, I had no idea.

I signaled to Greyson and we moved to the front door. We weren’t the police; we had no obligation to announce ourselves or give the enemy a chance to come quietly. We would use the element of surprise to get in and out as fast as possible.

With Greyson close behind me, I shot through the lock and kicked the door in.

The guard jumped to his feet. He took one look at our gear and bellowed, “Cops!”

His warning shout confirmed the presence of his allies. No intimidation tactics, then. Even if I managed to threaten him into dropping his weapon, it would just waste enough time for his buddies to show up. But I also didn’t like killing people if I could help it, and I wanted some answers from these *s.