by Cali MacKay
“Don’t you think I’m not putting my heart on the line too? Well, I fucking am, Hadley. You’re different than anyone else I’ve dated, and yet you keep expecting me to treat you like the rest of them. But I never have—not from the very start. And yet, that’s all you expect from me. You push me away, time and again, even though I’ve proved myself to you, proved what you mean to me. Not that it fucking matters.” The anger and hurt in his eyes, the emotional distance he’d already put between them, had her tears overflowing.
She knew she’d judged him on his past rather than his actions with her, which had been nothing but loyal and caring. Hell, he’d even gone as far as buying the place where she worked, for what was likely a small fortune, all because she’d been worried about losing her job. And instead of listening to her heart, instead of trusting that he wouldn’t hurt her, she’d let her fears, her past experiences with Matt come between them and ruin what they had. She was the only one responsible for Gabe shutting himself away from her—no one else. Her shattered heart was no one’s fault but her own.
She needed to get out of there before she totally broke down and became an absolute mess. Grabbing her clothes, she quickly threw them on, desperately hoping he’d stop her and hold her close, that he’d tell her it would be okay. He’d once given her that sort of reassurance, and she’d been a fool not to believe him. And now? Now that she could see exactly what he meant to her, there was no hope of him soothing her fears.
And so she walked out of there without him ever stopping her, without him uttering another word, tears streaming down her face, her heart shattered and the pain of her heartache unbearable.
***
Back in her hotel room, Hadley buried herself in her work, knowing that if she didn’t distract herself, she’d be on her way back up to Gabe’s suite when it was clear she’d fucked things up between them. She told herself it was likely for the best. It’d been bound to happen eventually, and maybe now she could still escape the worst of it.
Except that she was beyond heartbroken, the ache so painful, she felt as if it might kill her.
Worse still, she could still feel him—the erotic soreness from him taking her over and over again, a constant reminder of him and what they’d had just hours earlier.
How could he go from loving her so deeply to letting her walk out of his life?
Well, it didn’t matter. It couldn’t. Not when he no longer wanted her. Because if he had wanted her, he’d have stopped her from leaving.
Wiping her tears away, she forced herself to focus on the attacks, wanting to put an end to them so at the very least, something good could come out of her messy stay in Portmore, a small consolation for her broken heart.
Looking at Capaldi once more, she pulled out the financials they’d been able to obtain via a court order. There was a lot there, and far too many transactions to figure out which might be payment for the attacks, if Capaldi wasn’t doing the dirty work himself. The dates of the attacks…if she could find corresponding funds withdrawn from Capaldi’s accounts, that might be enough to get the authorization to dig deeper. Except that Capaldi likely kept plenty of cash sitting around, so there may not be any withdrawal on the books. However…Zane might very well deposit the money he received from Capaldi.
Crap…they hadn’t gotten his financials, and it was doubtful a judge would give them that sort of access without there being any real proof pointing in Zane’s direction. Maybe Murphy could speak to the judge? She called, but got his voicemail. Better than nothing, she supposed, and left him a message explaining her idea about the funds and asking if there was any way to get the judge to grant them a warrant to get to Zane’s financial records.
And in the meantime, she might try talking to Zane again. She’d be safe enough in public at the bar, and frankly, she could use a stiff drink or two to help her numb the pain of her heartache. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that she looked like hell, but she didn’t care. It’s not as though she’d be seeing Gabe again.
Luckily, it didn’t take her long to get to the Iron. Even better, Zane was working, so she’d be able to grab a seat at the bar, have her drink, and grill him with questions, while she was at it.
Loud music drifted over from the dance floor and pool tables, but luckily, she could still manage to carry on a conversation. “If Capaldi paid you for the attacks, then there’s going to be evidence, and trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to go down for this. Attempted murder, arson…those are long sentences, and you know the Ryker brothers will make sure the judge throws the book at you. Whereas, if you cooperate, we can get the man truly responsible for the attacks.”
“I’d rather not end up as fish food, lady.” Zane slid her drink in front of her and took her money.
“What if we could manage to get you into witness protection? Maybe set you up with a nice new life. It’d be well worth it to get away from Capaldi, since you know it’s only a matter of time before he turns to you for something else. Something dirtier—something you won’t want to do, but by then he’ll have you backed into a corner.” She wasn’t sure she was managing to convince him of anything, though he might eventually come around now that the seed had been planted. It might take a whole lot of string-pulling to get him into any type of protection program, but maybe Gabe’s connections could help.
“Is there anything else, lady? ’Cause I have work to do and I don’t need you talking my ear off.” Zane leaned against the counter, annoyed.
“No, I suppose that’s it for now.” Hadley checked her phone to see if Gabe had called. Nothing. Damn him. And it was like tearing open a new wound, her heartache returning with a vengeance.
She downed her drink in a few sips and mulled over any other way to persuade Zane, since he’d given her precious little to bring in front of a judge. If she couldn’t come up with more evidence, she was screwed—not that she could think straight or focus when her life was a train wreck.
Grabbing her bag, Hadley got up to go—when her head spun violently from a dizzy spell. She staggered back into her seat, and shook her head, trying to clear it, as Zane started to walk down the length of the bar so he could come around to her side and get her. Fuck…she looked at her drink and then back at him, a hard look on his face. Before her wits deserted her entirely, she managed to grab her phone and hit Gabe’s number, praying he’d answer before she completely blacked out.
“Gabe…help…” Had she actually gotten the words out?
And then Zane was at her side, an arm around her waist as he snagged her phone away from her and took her into the back room, just as the world around her went black and she passed out.
Chapter Twenty-One
Gabe paced the floor of his living room, feeling like a goddamned fool. How could he have let Hadley walk out the door—out of his life—like that, without so much as an attempt to stop her? His fear and pride—that’s how. Fear that he’d actually gone and fallen in love with someone who could break his heart, and pride that she couldn’t see how good he was for her.
The hours apart were fucking killing him. Furious with himself, he couldn’t stand to be away from her any longer. He headed down to her room and knocked on the door, desperate to see her, to beg her to stay.
Fuck…nothing. He called out to her, but she wasn’t there. Gone.
Had she left Portmore? Gone to see her ex? The thought nearly killed him.
And then his phone rang, the pain in his heart easing to see it was her, his relief overwhelming. “Babe…”
“Gabe…help…”
“Hadley? What’s going on, babe? Hadley? Hadley…?” Gabe gripped his phone, his concern increasing when there was no response from her.
Fuck. What the hell just happened? Panic knifed his chest as his fears consumed him.
She’d left over three hours ago. Three hours he’d spent kicking himself for letting her leave. Three hours she should have spent in his arms, though why she’d want to when he was a fucking asshole, he didn’t kn
ow.
Gabe pounded on Hadley’s door, not sure if she was there, but wondering if she was in trouble. Had she heard him knocking but couldn’t get to the door, so she’d tried to call?
He tried to break the door down, but it was a fire door and it wasn’t budging. He called down to the front desk, and quickly explained the situation. The manager was there minutes later to let Gabe in.
Nothing. Where the hell was she? He looked around at her room. Her laptop was out, and she had notes spread across the bed, which meant there was a good chance she’d been working. A cold dread came over him at the thought that she may have been following up on a lead and had gotten herself into trouble.
Gabe dialed the police station and explained the situation, but with so little to go on, there was little they could do. “Let me speak with Detective Murphy.”
Voicemail. Fuck!
He looked at her notes—pages of them—but the last pages were filled with notes on Capaldi, and a guy named Zane Zimmerman. Had she stumbled across information on the attacks and put herself in danger?
He never should have let her go. He’d let her walk out when she was clearly upset and trying to make amends. He’d let her leave, when he should have fought for her, should have held her close and eased her fears.
He was such a fucking ass.
Instead of admitting that he was just as scared as she was that they might fuck up what they had between them and he’d be left with a heartbreak that would never heal, he’d let their fears and doubts come between them, even as she tried to make her way back to him.
Yet his fear of getting his heart broken was nothing compared to what he was going through now. And if he screwed this up beyond repair, if something happened to her, it would be his undoing.
Where the hell was she and what kind of trouble was she in? The thought that someone would harm her left him furious, though he was just as angry with himself for being a fool, and pushing her away. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
He needed to track her down—but how? Morgan…he could track a fucking snowflake in a blizzard, and if anyone could find her, it’d be him. It wasn’t his only skill, but it was a damn good one to have.
He called Morgan to make sure he was home, and then headed over there, breaking the speed limit and praying that he didn’t get pulled over—a delay he didn’t need. He killed the engine, not even bothering with a greeting when Morgan met him on the doorstep. “I need your help.”
“What’s going on? Everyone okay?” Morgan stepped aside to let him in.
“No…I think Hadley’s in trouble, and I need help finding her.” Could they track her phone if it was turned off?
“What the hell happened?” Morgan was already heading to his laptop, his mood serious.
“What happened is that I managed to fuck things up between us, and I think she took off to follow up on the attacks.” There’d been a ton of background noise during Hadley’s phone call and her voice had been slurred, but he swore she’d asked for help. “She called me and it sounded like she was in trouble, but when I tried to call her back, her phone was turned off.”
“And you don’t think she just accidentally butt-dialed you, and then didn’t want to talk to you after you’d been a jerk?” Morgan looked at him like he’d lost his mind, though he was already zipping around on his laptop, pulling up one program after another.
“No…something’s wrong. I think she was following up on some lead.” He pulled her notebook out of his laptop bag. “Here are her notes, if it helps any.”
“If things are escalating, then we need to let Quinn and Maddie know.” Picking up the notebook, Morgan quickly flipped through her notes, heading to the most recent. He glanced at the last few pages, his gaze going from one page to the next and back. “This guy here…Zane Zimmerman…I swear I know that name, Gabe. I think he may have contacted us about an investment opportunity, but you know how it is… We get so many requests and offers, and so few are worth pursuing. The only reason the name sounds vaguely familiar is because it’s not the sort of name you hear every day—you know, with the two z’s.”
“What do you know about him? Anything, Morgan…I’ve got to find her before she comes to harm.” Each second that ticked by was a second where Hadley wasn’t safe. The thought was unbearable; his gut knotted with worry, his entire being consumed by anger.
“Honestly, he seemed rather desperate. If I’m remembering right, he’d sunk everything he had into this venture of his. Don’t even remember what it was, just that it wasn’t right for us—and the guy had a criminal past.” As a steadfast rule, Ryker Investments avoided getting involved with ex-cons. Morgan continued typing away. “Let me see what info I can pull up on the guy. I should have our emails around here somewhere. Seemed like a normal guy at the time, though, despite his past.”
“Based on Hadley’s notes, she has him somehow connected to Capaldi. Maybe this guy turned to Capaldi for funding when he couldn’t get it from us.” And there was a good chance Capaldi would leverage the guy’s needs and desperation to get him to attack the Rykers. “Can you find an address for him?”
“I doubt he’d be stupid enough to take her to his house. But…” Morgan tapped away furiously, jumping from one program to the next. “Right here—132 River Run Road. He rents some sort of workshop or warehouse there, and by the looks of it, it’s rather remote.”
Gabe was already heading for the door. “Do me a favor and call the cops. Make sure they meet me there.”
“Have you lost your mind? You can’t just go running in there, when you don’t know what’s going down.” Morgan was on his feet and heading to the hall closet.
“She’s in danger, and I can’t just do nothing and hope the cops make it to her on time. For fuck’s sake, Morgan—I love her, and I fucked up.” He had to get her back. Had to have her safely back in his arms. And he’d fucking murder anyone who harmed a hair on her head.
Morgan pulled a gun from the safe in the closet, gave it a quick once-over and then holstered it. “I’m coming with you, and we’ll call the cops as soon as we’re on the road.”
“Since when the fuck do you have a gun?” That was a conversation for a different time, but now he knew there was more to that email of Morgan’s. It might not have anything to do with the attacks, but something was up with his brother, and it wasn’t good.
“Do you want to discuss this now or do you want to go save your girlfriend so you can apologize to her for being a dick?”
“Fucking smartass.”
Morgan called the cops as Gabe sped through the streets of Portmore to the outskirts of town, each moment an eternity as he tried to get to Hadley before he was too late. What the hell did the guy even want with her? Or was it not so much his agenda, but Capaldi’s? Gabe could easily see Capaldi offering up the funding this guy needed in exchange for harassing Gabe’s family.
Morgan argued with the cops when they gave him a hard time about Hadley not missing for a long enough period of time—and Morgan gave them hell, threatening to rain down on their heads every lawyer in Massachusetts if they didn’t get some cops out there to check it out. “They’re on their way, and they got in touch with her partner, who said he got a message about her checking into Zane. They’d been at his place of work earlier, so they’ve got squad cars heading there too. We’ll find her, Gabe.”
She had to be okay…had to be. Fuck, Gabe didn’t even know what that guy, Zane, had been in jail for. Did he have a violent past? Rape? Murder? They knew nothing about him, and Hadley was likely at his mercy.
Or worse still—in Capaldi’s clutches. “I’m going to fucking tear him limb from limb if he’s hurt her.”
“It hasn’t been that long, right? She’ll be okay. You have to believe that.”
They pulled up to the address just as the cops arrived—and just in time to keep Gabe from storming in there. It took two officers and his brother to hold him back, with logic prevailing that the cops were spend
ing valuable time with him when they should be trying to get to Hadley.
Gabe shrugged free of their grasps, cursing under his breath. “I swear if she’s been hurt, Morgan….”
“She’ll be fine, yeah?” Morgan tilted towards the building with his head, though he’d yet to loosen his hold on Gabe. “Look—they’re already going in. They’re wasting no time, and I swear, Gabe, they’ll get her out of there safely.”
All Gabe could do was watch and hope that Hadley would soon be in his arms and their nightmare would be over. He lost count of the minutes that passed, though every single one felt like a lifetime.
There was a sudden bit of movement and commotion, when Gabe spotted the cops hauling some guy out in handcuffs and calling the EMTs over for a stretcher.
Did that mean she was hurt? This time there was no holding him back, even as they grabbed at him to keep him from going to Hadley.
Fuck…there she was… Dead? Or just unconscious?
But then they were pulling Gabe out of there, as he fought them, his struggles finally slowing as he watched the EMTs tend to her, slipping an oxygen mask over her face, and moving her limp body to the stretcher.
At least she was alive. For now.
***
Gabe waited for her at the hospital, each moment an absolute fucking eternity as the medical staff tended to her, leaving him in the dark as to her condition. And each infuriatingly long moment was a moment that left him to contemplate just how badly he’d fucked things up between them.
It was close to two hours before the doctor who’d treated Hadley came by to give Gabe his findings, having already spoken with the cops privately. “Ms. Moore’s still unconscious, and likely will be for several more hours. She was drugged with what appears to be a large dose of Rohypnol, which is also known as the date rape drug.”
Gabe’s heart sank as his anger boiled deep inside him, his words spoken through clenched teeth at the thought of someone violating her. “Did he fucking touch her? Because I swear, I’ll fucking kill that bastard.”