Rescuing Jenna - Anna Blakely Page 0,72

I do think standing here arguing about who should’ve told who what, is a pointless waste of time. Time you, yourself, said we don’t have.”

Damn. The tech nerd was right.

Swallowing his anger, Adrian turned back to Ryker. He started to ask him for Ortiz’s LKA when the burner phone that had been left for him dinged.

“Holy shit.” Nate grabbed the phone from the table where he was sitting. His eyes rose from the screen to meet Adrian’s. “You just got a text.”

About fucking time.

He plodded over to the table and snatched the phone from the other guy’s hand. Tapping the screen, Adrian held his breath and opened the text. Only it wasn’t actually a text.

It was a picture.

“No.” The image before him blurred from the red haze filling his vision.

Baby, no!

The other men gathered around the phone to see what had him so upset, but Adrian didn’t notice them.

All he could see was Jenna.

She was in a chair, her wrist and ankles bound to it by thick rope. Her long, gorgeous hair was disheveled and there were bruises and dried blood on her beautiful face.

Someone had hit her. More than once, by the looks of it.

“Motherfucker,” Gabe lashed out from behind him.

The phone shook in Adrian’s fist. His murderous gaze rose to meet Ryker’s. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to find him and make what I did to his father look like a goddamn cake walk. Then I’m going to fucking kill him!”

Ryker yanked the phone from his hand and handed it to Nate. “See if you can run a trace on that picture.”

Adrian’s insides were an inferno of rage. He felt sick to his soul for what had been done to his sweet Jenna. And the fact that she’d been hurt because of him…

Ah, God.

A jagged blade ripped into the center of his shattered heart. The pain sharp and vicious, unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Rubbing a hand against his chest, Adrian tried to ease the tormenting sensation. To fill his starving lungs with air. It didn’t work.

Nothing was working, and Christ Almighty…was he having a heart attack?

He felt himself sway, but a set of strong hands grabbed hold of his upper arms and kept him steady.

“Whoa, brother.” Zade kept his grip tight. “You’re looking a little pale. Maybe you should sit down.”

Matt added, “And take a damn breath before you pass out.”

Despite the well-meant offer, Adrian shook Zade off and regained his composure. “I don’t want to fucking sit. I want to find the son of a bitch who sent that picture!”

“You need to lock it down, Walker!” Ryker pointed a finger at him. The hardened agent’s eyes zeroing in on his. “We’re going to get your girl back, but in order to do that, you need to calm your shit and keep your head clear.”

He heard the other man’s words. Knew what he’d said was true. But fuck.

“Hey, I’ve got something,” Nate spoke up, right on cue.

All eyes went to the man behind the computer.

“It’s not much”—he bit his lip as he typed— “but it could be a start, at least. The number from which the text originated is a burner phone. No surprise there. But it looked familiar, so I cross referenced it with the reports I’ve been running and...” He turned the computer around for Adrian and the others to see. “The same number called Chief Campillo’s private office line at the precinct around the same time you and Jenna got there for your meeting with him. According to the time stamp on the security footage from inside the building, the number called Campillo again, right as you and Jenna were walking out.”

Adrian remembered he and Ben joking about the call. He’d told Ben he’d been saved by the bell. Ben’s response held a whole new meaning, now.

Saved or slaughtered. Depends on who’s calling.

He blinked, fighting the urge to deny the undeniable. “That’s how they knew. Ben told them we were there.”

“And he told them when you were leaving,” Ryker stated what was now clear to everyone.

Sonofabitch. Ben had sold him out. Him and Jenna both.

Adrian closed his eyes and forced some much-needed air through his nostrils. Nausea from both his friend’s betrayal and what he’d seen in that picture hit hard and fast. It was all he could do not to throw up.

Or punch something.

Or shoot someone.

He’d survived a lot of shit in his day, with both the Marines and his deep cover days. Adrian had seen and done things most people