Chapter Nine

Cameron

Ace, who usually wore on my nerves when I took him with me on the days I worked at InkLore, was quiet. The only words he'd spoken to me this morning were to ask me if he could ride with me to the tattoo shop so he could work on some art and have a change of scenery. No one had spoken to me much—not when they figured out I was in a pissy mood. My attitude had been shit since Abbie and I had fallen out.

I wasn't supposed to start falling for her, but I had. And now, I had to deal with that shit as a consequence. Didn't matter how I felt about her—me and a cop were never going to work out. Not when we lived on two different sides of the law.

Shaw knocked lightly on the door. Sighing softly, I looked up at him, feeling tired to my fucking bones. I hadn't slept much in the three days since our split, and I was beginning to feel the fatigue weighing heavily on my shoulders.

The expression on Shaw's face was grim, his lips a flat line. I sat up straighter and cleared my throat. Ace looked up at me before looking at Shaw, sitting up immediately.

Something was wrong.

"What's going on?" Ace asked, setting his iPad pencil down on the plush rug beside his tablet.

Shaw watched me for a moment. I steeled myself. But still, nothing could have prepared me for his next words. Not a damn thing.

"Abbie's partner is in the hospital—critical condition. He was found laying on the side of the road three miles from the patrol car. They don't know if he's going to make it." He stepped into the room and gripped my shoulders, his fingertips biting into my skin through the fabric of my shirt. "Abbie is missing."

Abbie is missing.

Abbie is missing.

Abbie. Is. Fucking. Missing.

Those words spun around and around in my head. The pencil in my hand snapped in half from my grip on it. My hearing went all staticky, and my heart slammed against my chest bone.

My woman was fucking missing.

"We need to find her," I rasped, my throat tight. I jerked back from Shaw's desk, the chair rolling back and slamming into the wall. I yanked the ponytail holder out of my hair before yanking the strands back into a bun, my movements jerky. I looked at Shaw, my hands trembling. "We have to find her, Shaw."

He nodded. "I know. We will. Come on. Ace will drive your truck home. You're in no condition to drive."

I just nodded as I slid my things into my backpack, not even caring about bending the pages like I normally would. Shaw pressed a hand to my upper back between my shoulder blades, leading me out of his office and to the back door of the shop where we parked our vehicles. Without a word, I slid into the passenger seat of my truck, my mind still spinning. Reeling out of control.

I barely remembered the drive back to the clubhouse. All I knew was that one moment, I was sliding into the truck, and the next, Shaw was leading me into the chapel. Blakely walked in and set a mug of coffee in front of me without a word. And when I sipped it, I coughed, surprised by the amount of Kahlua she'd poured into the drink.

"Drink it," Arlo ordered, his tone gentle but forceful all at once. "You're as white as a ghost, Cam."

I lifted the mug to my lips again, downing the somewhat cooled coffee in three gulps. Jax snorted in amusement, leaning back in his chair, his bulky arms crossed over his chest. Konrad entered the room last, shutting the door behind him before taking his seat at the table.

"Anatoly is on the line," Konrad announced, setting his burner phone on the table.

"Not like you to want anything to do with him," I muttered. I was itching for a fight, and I was hoping Konrad would give it to me. He was the easiest to rile up these days, and all this pent-up energy needed to go somewhere. I needed a fucking outlet.

"This is bigger than my hatred of the man," Konrad told me calmly. "Your woman is missing."

I just kept my mouth shut. I could tell when Konrad was going to be an unmovable wall, and today was one of those days.

Because of fucking course, it was.

"We're all here," Shaw told Anatoly.

"I have men looking for any news of her as we speak," Anatoly began, cutting straight to the chase. I tightened my hands around the empty mug, staring down into it as if it held the answers of Abbie's whereabouts. "All I know so far is that she was sent out on a call with Trent to check out a suspicious vehicle—a white van with no plates and no markings." My gut cramped. I was pretty sure I was about to be sick. Not much bothered me anymore, but knowing she was probably alone and scared somewhere, thinking no one was coming for her, fucking tore my insides to shreds.

"Vehicle is gone. Cruiser was left where it was parked. Partner was dumped three miles away from the vehicle, beaten unconscious. Spleen ruptured. Brain bleed. Two broken legs. Stab wounds in the back."

Christ.

"That kind of beating is personal," Jax spoke up. "There's anger behind that."

Beside me, Konrad nodded in agreement. "Multiple stab wounds? Breaking bones? Yeah, Jax is right—there's a message in that," Konrad rumbled in agreement.

I jerked back from my chair, the mug clattering to the floor when I yanked my hands away from it. It broke into two pieces. Everyone watched me, but I just paced back and forth on the side of the table I'd been sitting at, my mind spinning.

Multiple stab wounds. Broken legs—didn't want him to wake up and run, obviously, which meant they wanted him found. But by who? And dumping him away from the cruiser—that meant he couldn't call for help if he woke up.

"Did Trent have his radio on him?" I asked, stopping to stare at the phone.

"No," Anatoly said after a moment. "Cell phone and radio were gone."

"They didn't want him calling for help if he woke up," I said. "They wanted him to be found." I looked at Shaw, then Konrad. "Do you think this is retaliation against us? If someone had eyes on me and Abbie, then they would've seen I was somewhat nice to Trent. Could even be considered friends if someone was just watching us."

Ace looked up at me. "Makes sense." He looked at Shaw, then at the phone. "Where exactly was Trent found at?"

"Out on Old Washington Road," Anatoly said after a brief pause, more than likely checking his information.

I cursed, looking at Shaw. "I take that route from Arlo's when I work on his books. I like the scenery. It's quiet, peaceful." My gut churned. Vomit rose in my throat. I barely managed to swallow it back down. "They were targeted because of me." I gripped the back of my chair, my knuckles white, my nails biting into the leather. "Abbie was taken because of me."