Up in Smoke - Tessa Bailey Page 0,102

stood with her hands up, tightening the muscles in her legs so they wouldn’t shake. “Lead the way.”

Luther cracked open the door and looked out before pulling back. “Ladies first.”

Erin swallowed hard as he shoved her through the open door. The hallway was a funnel of noise captured from the bar, but it was deserted of people. She thought of Connor kissing her there just minutes before and wanted to wail at the ceiling. The cold muzzle of her stepfather’s gun dug into the middle of her back, directing her in the opposite direction of the bar. A gated back door stood partially open, just beside the kitchen. The cook’s back was turned to them as they passed, his focus on a tiny television screen above a giant fryer.

They walked through the door and into a dim alley, music and laughter from the bar following in their wake. She peered through the night’s freshly fallen darkness for Luther’s car, but only saw a white panel van with no windows. He shoved her toward it so suddenly that she stumbled.

As if she’d never made an iota of progress, the wings started beating in her head, drowning out rational thought. Trap. He was going to lock her in that airless van and trap her. No, no, no.

When they reached the van, he threw the back doors open. And she saw it.

A cage.

“Get in.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

It was an odd feeling, being exasperated over the amount of time your girlfriend took in the bathroom. Was it stupid that something so typical felt…good? Sure, there was an invisible countdown clock over his right shoulder, tick-tick-ticking away the seconds since the last time he’d put eyes on Erin. It would always be that way, because looking at her erased the bad in him. She was a signal of peace he need only think about, and the rapids inside him became a still pond. She’d turned his constant craving for control into something positive, because she’d given him the power to be in control of himself. A feat he’d had to accomplish to be with her.

And that made it his life’s accomplishment. This internal head-shaking versus pacing the floor was a healthy change. They would build on small milestones, like allowing her out of his sight for extended periods of time, until they had a fucking city.

“Erin must have fallen in,” Polly remarked with a smile and a good-natured elbow in his side.

Connor put the kibosh on his tingle of nerves. “She needs her space sometimes. Needs to…”

“Feel unfettered?” Polly nodded. “I get that.”

Connor picked at the beer bottle label with his thumb to avoid glancing toward the bathroom. Baby steps. “You don’t think it’s possible to actually fall in, do you?”

Polly’s answering chuckle cut off when her gaze fixed on something over his shoulder, the smile leaving her face in degrees. Connor pushed back from the table and jumped to his feet before his brain registered the command. Derek stood just inside the entrance. The captain held a cell phone up to his ear, speaking into it sharply as his razor-like gaze raked the table. He looked over and locked eyes with Connor.

“Where’s O’Dea?”

Connor was running for the bathroom before Derek had even finished posing the question. Knives twisted in his gut as he careered through the door and turned in a circle. Switchblade. Her fucking cell phone. On the ground. Bathroom empty. No Erin.

Gone. I let my guard down and now she’s gone.

Fear tearing at his insides, he turned and lunged at Derek, grabbing him by the shoulders. “How? How did you know she was gone?” His voice cracked. “Where is she?”

Derek pried Connor’s hands off, but there was a hint of empathy in his eyes. “We’ve been following Luther’s car since yesterday. He ditched it in a lot. Best we can tell, he picked up a different vehicle.” He checked his phone and cursed. “We don’t know for sure he took her. It’s just a hunch. You know her, she likes to take off once in a while.” Even as Derek said the words meant to calm him, his eyes were grave. He knew what the ditched cell phone and knife meant.

“No,” Connor felt the need to reiterate. He swiped a hand through his hair, denial over the entire situation coursing through him like bolts of electricity. “No, she wouldn’t have left like this. She doesn’t need to. Not anymore. He has her. Jesus, he fucking has her.”

Connor shot toward the exit, intending to drive