The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(82)

She shot a look at her sister in the hospital bed. Bad things had been happening for a long time. She wasn’t going to let Elliott take anything more from Eliza—from any of them. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, hit that buzzer and call Anderson.”

“Jo!”

But she was already moving, striding to the door and slipping into the hallway. Ethan stepped in front of her, his hand up as he spoke into his phone. He hung up and slipped it into his pocket. “There’s no reason to panic.”

“People say that directly before they give you a reason to panic.” She looked up and down the hallway, but there didn’t seem to be anything amiss. Certainly nothing to explain the alarm bells pealing through her head. “What’s going on?”

“Mateo just called to ask if Frank came here instead of the office.”

She stared. “Why would he come here?” She charged back into Eliza’s room and dug her phone out of her purse. Journey dialed Frank, even though she knew Mateo would have tried to call Frank already. It wasn’t as if he was screening his calls. She was so focused on waiting for the voice mail to click over so she could move onto the next step that she didn’t realize someone had answered until breathing skated across the line. Journey froze. “Hello?”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Every single nerve in her body froze solid and encased her in ice. “Where is Frank?” She spoke through numb lips, her mind struggling to reconcile her father’s voice coming through the line when she was sure she’d been calling Frank’s number.

Elliott spoke as if she hadn’t asked a question. “You never were particularly good at doing what you’re told. Ever the disobedient daughter.”

“Where. Is. Frank?”

“You took something I valued greatly.” He trailed off, as if musing to himself. In the distance, a familiar sound shushed through the line. “You had to know that would require punishment.”

That got her moving. She snapped her fingers at Ethan, who fumbled to hand her a pen and paper. Journey scrawled out He’s near water and held it up for Ethan and José to see. As they rushed for their respective phones, she took what passed for a steadying breath. “If you hurt him, you’ll be the one who’s punished.”

He laughed. “Please. We both know better.”

“Elliott—”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said good-bye.” He hung up before she could say anything else.

Journey cursed. “This is bad.” She glanced at Ethan and José but they were on their phones, in the middle of two different conversations. As much as she wanted to rush out of the hospital, she couldn’t do it until they had a plan in place. Hold on, Frank.

Ethan hung up first. “Elliott’s got his yacht docked at the marina. If he’s somewhere near water, that’s got to be it.”

“Mateo’s tracing Frank’s phone.” José paced from one side of the room to the other. He opened the door enough to check the hallway and shut it again. “Thanks, Mateo.” After slipping his phone into his pocket, he turned to face them. “He’s at the marina.”

“Okay.” Journey ran her hands through her hair. She turned to find Eliza watching her. “I have to go.”

“I know.” Eliza might have smiled, but it was hard to tell with all the bandages. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” She was going to need it. Journey motioned to the men and they headed out. It wasn’t until they hit the parking garage that she spoke. “We need cops and we need your men there.” One look at their faces said what they thought of that, but she didn’t give a fuck. “We need cops,” she repeated. “They can’t ignore the possibility of a shootout or murder in such a public place. They can’t afford to.”

Ethan jumped into the driver’s seat, and José held the door open for her in the front. Neither of them said a word about her accompanying them, which was just as well.

If they tried to stop her, she’d go through them to get to Frank.

She listened to José start making calls, waiting long enough to ensure he had, in fact, called the cops, and then Journey called Anderson. Voice mail. She cursed. “I don’t know where the hell you are, but I need you. Elliott has Frank. They’re at the marina. I’m going after him.” She hung up. It was only then that the reality of the situation sank in.

Elliott had Frank.

He wanted to kill him.

To punish her.

She gripped her slacks with shaking hands and stared straight ahead as Ethan navigated through Houston’s streets. Not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough. If Elliott got to open water, it would significantly delay their ability to stop him. He’d have all the time in the world to hurt Frank. To dump his body into the ocean once he was finished with him. To sail away to some un-extraditable country.

If he hurts Frank, there’s nowhere on earth he can go where I won’t find him.

She clenched her jaw until black spots danced along the edges of her vision and red washed over everything. There was no room for fear.

In the backseat, José cleared his throat. “Backup is roughly fifteen minutes behind us, maybe more. I can’t speak to the police timeline.”

Journey closed her eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again. “We can’t afford to wait for them—any of them.”