Chapter 22

Harry headed to Bear’s place that night, and the rest of the guys eventually showed up. They were searching for any information on Rory. There was nothing. No crumbs of information, no details about any woman being taken.

It was close to midnight, and the rest of the team was preparing to leave. None of them knew how to find Rory without something to go on. The police hadn’t made any progress that they knew of, and there was no new information. Whoever had taken Rory had covered it up.

That didn’t bode well for Rory. If they weren’t bragging about taking Rory captive and hadn’t posted anything on the message boards where the most depraved hid, that meant she probably hadn’t survived the initial attack.

“Sleep on the couch,” Bear said as he squeezed Harry’s shoulder.

“Thanks, man.” He didn’t want to think too hard about how she could be dead.

“We’ll find her,” Bear said .

Harry shook his head. “What if there is nothing to find?”

“Do you really think she’s dead?”

“There’s a vast ocean out there. People get lost in it all the time. The water washes away evidence. It would be easy to get rid of her, and we would never know.”

Bear pulled him into a hug. “We don’t know what happened. Keep the faith, man. We might find her yet.”

Harry closed his eyes and struggled with his thoughts. He didn’t want to lash out at Bear, but the words triggered something inside. Did he have any faith to keep? He had faith that the men in his unit would do what they could to make sure all of them came home. He believed in his ability to take down enemies and get out of bad situations. But did he have faith that Rory would come home?

Sleep didn’t come easy. He lay staring at the ceiling for a long time. He’d failed Rory. What could he have done differently? They were in that early period of their relationship where he knew he liked her, could easily fall in love, and could see her by his side for years to come, but he didn’t know everything. They’d purposely kept their interactions light, well, until they’d had sex.

He thought about how good it had felt to be in her arms. She had taken what he thought he knew about lovemaking and twisted it up, making it so much more. She had made everything more. The colors, the feelings, the touch of her skin all of it had been so much more when they’d been together.

Harry turned over, facing the window. They needed to find her, but he wasn’t sure how they would get her back. A deep pit of despair hit as thoughts of her being dead floated through his mind. If that were the case, he would make sure whoever took her down suffered mightily. He knew a thousand ways to kill someone, and he would carry through with the actions. Rory would be avenged, no matter how long it took.