Hunt attempts to snatch the device. “Put the cell down and tell us what the fuck is going on. Was Layla talking about Robert? Has she been running her mouth to him?”
“Give me a minute.” I turn my back to him. “I need to make sure Penny got home.” I listen to the ringtone, each unanswered trill poking my pulse back into agitated territory. When she doesn’t answer, I try again.
“Who you callin’?”
“Sarah. And she’s ignoring me.” I start for the cars, only to remember she took my fucking Suburban. “I need some wheels.” I swing around to face the two enforcers now staring at me with raised brows.
“What the fuck is going on?” Hunt demands.
“Nothing.” I huff out the congealed air thickening in my lungs. “Can I borrow a car or not?”
“Don’t look at me, fucker,” he grates. “She trashed mine, remember? And besides, we have to talk about what the hell just happened first.”
“Not now. I need to get to Penny.” I switch my attention to Decker. “How about yours?”
He eyes me for long moments, his narrowed focus judgmental as he reaches into his pocket, then lobs his key fob at me. “I’m coming with you.”
“Why?” I catch the offering and start backward toward his truck. “Your parents are still inside.”
“I don’t like the look on your face. You seem to know a lot more about what’s going on than I do, and I have a feeling Penny’s involved.”
“All I know is that Sarah isn’t answering her phone. They should be settled at Torian’s by now.”
Deck flicks a glance to Hunt. “Call her.”
I keep trekking backward, unwilling to wait as the big guy huffs and pulls out his cell to dial.
I’m beside Decker’s truck when Hunter lowers the phone. “She’s not answering me either. I bet she’s already in the shower.”
“Tell Torian I think something is wrong.” I yank the driver’s door open. “And get in contact with the lookouts. Make sure nothing is on the radar.”
Decker races toward the passenger side of the car. He’s barely in his seat when I gun the engine and slam my foot down, sending us screaming backward out of the parking space before shoving into drive.
“Keep trying to call her.” I clench the steering wheel as I increase my speed through the streets, taking the back roads, cutting corners and flying through amber lights.
“Jesus Christ.” Decker grabs the side of his seat in one hand and the rail above his head with the other. “I’m sure they’re okay. Sarah’s smart.”
Props from the glorified tech guy don’t mean much when pitted against the sinking feeling in my stomach. I never should’ve let Penny out of my sight. I never should’ve brought her to the restaurant in the first place. It was her curiosity—her fucking hope—that made the risk seem insignificant.
“Is she still wearing that wrist cuff?” Deck reclaims his phone.
“Yeah, why?”
“I’ll check the GPS. Saves you wrapping us around a pole if they’re at Torian’s.”
I lean over, briefly focusing on his device. “You’ve got access to the tracker?”
“Who do you think installed it? Hunt doesn’t know dick about tech.” He falls quiet for a moment, pressing buttons repeatedly until he flashes the screen my way. “See? There’s nothing to worry about. They’re at the house.”
I squint at the red dot in the middle of a map, the tiny writing indicating Torian’s street.
“Now maybe think about laying off the gas,” he drawls. “I don’t appreciate you setting a time trial while I’m in the car.”
I ease off the accelerator and relax into my seat, but the twist doesn’t leave my gut. If anything, it intensifies.
“Like Hunt said, Sarah’s probably taking a shower.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I don’t buy it. The raised hair on the back of my neck tells me otherwise. But paranoia isn’t uncommon when I think about Penny. “Once we get to the house, you should drive back to the party to keep an eye on your folks. Robert’s still out there somewhere.”
He nods, remaining focused on his cell as I turn onto Torian’s street.
“How are they anyway?”
He ignores me, raising the device closer to his face.
“Deck? I asked about your parents.”
“Slow down.” He sits straighter and shoots a glance out his window. “I need to check something.”
“What is it?” I ease off the gas. “What’s going on?”
“The GPS isn’t syncing.” He glides his finger over the screen. “Now that we’re closer, it’s saying she’s next door.”
“Why wouldn’t it be syncing? How accurate is this thing?”
“Accurate. It’s previously pinpointed Sarah to within a