Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
I lick my lips, staring at him. "You're already doing that," I admit softly. "You have been all day."
"Christ." His eyes fall closed before he leans forward, pressing his lips to mine in a fierce kiss. "We're on the same page then, Red. The exact same damn page."
Yeah, I kind of think maybe we are.
Chapter Nine
Emmett
"Ishould have learned to fly the drone," Tony Gordon mutters, glaring balefully at a massive root as he yanks his boot out of it. "Dacen has the cush gig right now."
"Chief wouldn't let you near the fucking drone, brother," Evan Whitcomb says, smirking at him. "He barely allows you to drive the rig."
Tony flips him the bird before stomping off, muttering under his breath.
Evan chuckles, glancing over at me. "Ignore him. He's happy to help look for the kid. He just has a thing with nature."
"Yeah, I know," I mutter wearily. Tony's aversion to nature isn't a new phenomenon. We've been giving him shit about it since he joined the department two years ago. But I'm just not in the fucking mood today.
The last two days have been a mixed bag. Nina has recovered well from the fire. I took her back to see Belle again this morning for another checkup, and there aren't any complications that she's been able to find. And things between her and I are going well. Better than that, actually. Since we slept together on Saturday, we've only grown closer.
But Nate didn't show up yesterday. Nina waited all day for him to come home, anxious as hell. By midnight, it was pretty fucking obvious that he wasn't coming. She cried all night.
The longer he's out of contact, the worse it is. I know it. Nina knows it. It's not fucking good. And it doesn't help that his phone has been off since he left their house on Friday. Dillon has dispatch requesting updated pings every few hours, and it's the same story. He hasn't turned it on a single time since he left.
She begged me to let her go looking for him this morning, but I adamantly refused. Instead, I took her to see Belle and then sent her to Giant and Callum Carmichael so they can help keep an eye on her. And then the fire department and I loaded up two brush trucks and headed out. We've been combing through the woods for hours, checking every nook and cranny.
Dacen is flying the drone overhead, checking for the shit we can't see. Easton has the Sheriff's Department drone out, too. So far, we haven't found anything. If Nate is really out here, he could be anywhere. There are hundreds of acres of woodlands out there. It'll take weeks to mount a proper search…and we can't afford to mount a proper search right now.
If Vincent's bookies don't already know he's missing, the last goddamn thing we need to do is alert them to the fact that he's somewhere out here on his own. If we send the general population out looking for him, there's no way to keep word from spreading to them.
It's a shitshow all the way around.
We need to find them just as badly as we need to find Nate. And that search is going just about as well. Dillon has his people pulling over every black Lexus he comes across. He also put out a BOLO to surrounding agencies. So far, no one has come up with anything.
It's pissing me off. How goddamn hard is it to find two fire-starting, murderous bookies? Damn hard, apparently.
"We've got a campsite ahead!" Devon calls out.
My heart thuds against my breastbone. I quicken my pace, skirting around a massive fallen log and then through underbrush to a small clearing beside a creek. I find Devon kneeling beside an old campfire, his dark head bent as he examines something.
"What is it?" I crouch beside him.
"Condoms," he mutters, nudging one with a stick. "Any chance the kid was out here with a girl?"
"Doubt it," I mutter, shoving a hand through my hair as I rise to my feet, muttering a curse. "I'm not sure he was out here at all."
Devon sighs, hauling himself upright. "Then what are we looking for, man? You know I'll search these woods all day because you asked, but if you don't even think he's out here…what are we looking for?"
"Hope," I sigh. "We're looking for hope."
It's all I've got to give Nina right now. Hope. Some goddamn sign that he's been out here. That he's safe. That the pricks who tried to kill her don't have her teenage brother.
Devon clasps my shoulder, squeezing. "Well, all right then. Let's go fucking find it." He glances over his shoulder at the rest of the crew. "Move out! There's nothing to find here!"
An hour later, Easton's voice crackles over the radio at my hip. "IC to 133."