CHAPTER EIGHT

It was another week before they heard anything of relevance from Chase Hart. He kept Peyton updated on his search, and she covertly kept Jace updated, too, but so far, they hadn’t found her, only that they’d tracked down her last known location and that was Nashville.

No wonder Jace’s leads through work came up empty. Once Michaela left the province, his resources to find her were limited. And if she left the country, then he was up shit creek and without a paddle.

It was a battle of conscience every time he heard more of what the Harty Boys were up to. He knew what they were doing was mostly illegal, but at the same time, it was necessary.

His moral code was strong, but the quest to find Michaela Mackinley and put an end to Tiberius’s threat was stronger. That was how he rationalized it. That was how he found the balance enough to sleep at night. What the Harty Boys were doing was for the greater good. They weren’t hurting anybody, and since Jace’s resources had been exhausted, the logical next step was to let professionals do their thing .

He was on his first night shift after two day-shifts and just woke up. He went hard at the gym after work last night, then hard again this morning before his nap, so his body was already exhausted.

He rolled into bed with Peyton last night and could barely keep his eyes open. She didn’t seem put out that he was too tired for sex.

That’d never happened to him, though.

Even with all the training he did and his busy work and volunteer schedule, if sex was available, he always found the energy reserves.

Maybe he needed to take it easy for a few days. He always thought he ate enough that he’d never have to run on fumes, but perhaps they were fumes of a different kind. Mental fumes.

Making his smoothie, he glanced out the window of his apartment at the harbor. A seaplane cruised in, the last of the day, probably since it was already starting to get dark out.

Even though he preferred milder temperatures, he still lived for summer—particularly on the island. Long, warm days and fresh, locally grown fruits and veggies galore.

Peyton told him as he drifted off to sleep wrapped around her that the last known location for Michaela was Nashville, but he was already asleep before he heard anymore. Then she was gone when he woke up in the morning. He woke up shortly after, hit the gym, came home, did some laundry, then crashed again before he needed to head out for his 6pm shift.

A knock at his door made him pause before he hit the button on his Vitamix.

Who the fuck was knocking and didn’t buzz up first?

Peyton?

There was a pretty strict rule in the building that unless you recognized the person, you didn’t hold the door open for anyone, even if they “claimed” to live in the building.

In nothing but his black boxer briefs, he padded across the kitchen to the front door and peered through the peephole. But there was nobody there .

Then he remembered that he’d ordered more protein powder online, and the mail carrier often came right to Jace’s door, knocked, then left the package.

Thinking nothing of it, he opened the door, expecting to see a box on his welcome mat, but was instead shoved in the chest by an unexpected mountain of muscle in a black hoodie.

Tiberius.

Jace stumbled backward into his apartment and Tiberius followed, letting the door shut behind him. “Haven’t heard jack-shit about my sister. Figured I’d come and see how things are going?”

Caught off guard, and basically naked, Jace had to stop for a moment to stabilize himself and get his bearings. He scanned his apartment for something he could use as a weapon. He had his knife block, but that was all the way in the kitchen on the counter. There wasn’t really anything within arm’s reach.

Sure, he was trained in self-defense and how to take down a perp, but Tiberius grew up in the foster system and had been on the streets and in prison. The man knew how to fight dirty. And even with Jace’s training and growing muscle mass, Tiberius was probably the same weight as Jace, or more.

Swallowing, Jace backed up as Tiberius stalked forward. He had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his head and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Listen, man, we are searching for her. I swear. But you need to give us more time.”

“You’ve had three fucking years!” Tiberius roared. “Almost the moment you put me away, Rhys pounced on her. Got her hooked on heroin, then she was willing to do whatever he asked her to do for a fix.” He swallowed. “And I’m guessing a smart cop like you knows exactly what he asked of her.”

“You were only away for eighteen months. Where have you been for the last year and a half?” He could already tell that Tiberius didn’t want to hurt him. The man wasn’t a monster. He was a product of circumstance. Rhys and his gang held Michaela’s safety over his head, and Tiberius was in debt to Rhys, so that’s why he committed the heinous crime that put him away in the first place. Jace actually asked the judge for leniency. Tiberius didn’t know that, though. He blamed Jace for his incarceration. And therefore, for Michaela getting trapped with Rhys’s crew.

Tiberius blinked a few times, processing Jace’s question. “Was lookin’ for Michaela, but when I couldn’t find her and ran out of money, I went to work. Got a laborer job up in the oil fields. Need money to travel to find my sister.”

“So what brought your back here?” The longer he kept him talking, the more time Jace had to come up with a plan on how to get Tiberius out of his house and call the police.

“Rhys got out of prison,” he said without any emotion. “Needed to ask him some questions .”

“Where’s Rhys now, Tiberius?” Jace asked slowly.

Tiberius shrugged. “Don’t care. Just care about finding my sister. And after he sold her, he lost track of her. So guy’s no use to me now.”

Jace knew Rhys Talbot. He was a low-level gang leader with ties to drug trafficking, and he dabbled in sex trafficking, too. Last Jace heard, before he went to prison, Rhys was getting into selling opioids and prescription drugs to athletes. However, the man was smart and knew how to keep his hands clean. He made others do his dirty work. But a conviction of assault landed Rhys in prison for a year. Now he was out on parole.

“This isn’t you, Tiberius,” Jace said, checking the man’s body for any sign of a concealed weapon. “You’re not like Rhys and the others. You’re a good guy. A good guy who is just trying to do right by his sister and find her. And we’re trying to help with that. It just takes time.” He couldn’t see a gun or anything on Tiberius, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one at his back, or a knife hidden somewhere.

“You’ve had time! Shouldn’t have happened in the first place. You all knew I was forced to do that shit for Rhys or they were going to hurt her. Then you fucking put me away so nobody could protect her.” He pointed at Jace. “This is on you, man. Whatever happened to my sister is on you. ”

A sudden knock at the door had them both freezing. But it was enough of a distraction that Jace was able to run to the kitchen and grab a chopping knife from his knife block.

“Victoria Police,” came a deep, authoritative rumble from the other side of the door.

How’d the cops know to come?

Tiberius’s eyes went wide and his gaze shot from Jace to the door and back. He was just as surprised.

“Tiberius?” It was Peyton’s voice. What the fuck? “Tiberius, are you in there? It’s Peyton.”

“Let me open the door,” Jace said, holding the knife and skirting the long way around his kitchen island and living room, keeping a wide berth between him and Tiberius. “This does not have to end badly. We don’t want to hurt you. We want to help you find Michaela.”

Tiberius’s nostrils flared.

“Tiberius, please don’t do anything rash. Please, don’t hurt Jace,” Peyton pleaded. “We know you’re scared for Michaela. But …”

Jace reached the door and gripped the handle. “Peyton, get the fuck out of the way of the door.”

There was shuffling on the other side, then he opened the door.

Two heavily armed police officers, with their guns out, came rushing in, aiming their firearms at Tiberius.

Tiberius looked terrified, but also defeated.

Peyton entered the doorway, and Jace’s heart leaped into his throat. But his girlfriend wasn’t looking at him, she was focused on Tiberius. She slowly walked toward him, her phone in her hand. “Tiberius, I know you don’t want to hurt anyone. And Michaela doesn’t want you to hurt anyone, either.”

Tiberius’s blue eyes widened.

Peyton smiled. “We found her. In Nashville. Alive. But she needs her big brother, so …” She held up her ph one. “See.”

“Ti … Tiberius?” croaked a female voice.

Tiberius’s eyes softened, and relief filled his face. “Mi-Michaela?”

“She’ll be here later tonight,” Peyton said. “She’s okay.”

Tears ran down Tiberius’s cheeks and he slowly raised his hands behind his head and dropped to his knees, unable to take his gaze off his sister. In seconds, he was sobbing.

The two police officers handcuffed him and read him his Miranda rights, then escorted him out of the apartment.

Peyton stayed behind, and Jace closed the door. She turned to him. “I was so scared.”

“How’d you know he was here?”

“Heath has been tailing Tiberius for the last couple of days. Chase just found Michaela last night and he and Brock went down to Nashville on their millionaire friend’s private jet to get her.” Wrapping her arms around his torso, she buried her face in his chest. “She was being kept as a sex slave in some Republican senator’s basement. Only reason they found her was because she got ill and was taken to the hospital. Her image popped up in Chase’s search and he was able to bring up footage from her visit and see that the senator took her to an out-of-state hospital. Then he followed the breadcrumbs back to the senator, checked his purchases over the last six months—tampons, pads, lady’s underwear and other female stuff—then he sent a tip to the local police who sent in the S.W.A.T team and they recovered her.”

Jace rested his chin on the top of her head, then pushed his fingers through his hair. “Holy fuck.”

“She’s going to need therapy. I’ve already contacted Joy—The Harty Boys’ mum—and she is prepared to work with Michaela. I’m also working at placing her in a transition house, but truthfully, I think she just needs to be in a home where she feels safe. She hasn’t felt safe in a long time.”

Pulling away from her for a moment, Jace gazed down at the incredible woman in his arms. “You’re amazing, you know that? ”

She smiled at him. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I’m glad he didn’t hurt you.”

“I don’t think he wanted to hurt me. I don’t think he wanted to hurt anyone. He’s just a broken man. A victim of a broken system and desperate to find the one person who meant something to him.”

Peyton nodded. “I’m going to look into some resources for her, see what I can do. See what kind of subsidy and help I can get her—or both of them.” Then she frowned. “What is going to happen to Tiberius?”

“I’m not going to press charges or anything. He didn’t hurt me—or you. I’ll make sure he’s released—but with conditions—and that he and Michaela are reunited.”

They resumed their tight hug. Her cheek to his chest, his chin on her head. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Jace Shepherd.”

“Oh, I’m head over fucking heels in love with you, Peyton Doucet.”

She squeezed him tighter. “Good thing our zodiac signs are compatible. I’m not sure I could love you if you were a cancer.”

He snorted and started to back her up toward his bedroom. “Then it’s a good thing I’m a Libra, huh?”

She fell to the bed, and he collapsed on top of her. “It’s a very good thing you’re a Libra.”

“I’m your Libra.”

“You sure are. And I don’t plan on letting you go.” Then, just to drive home that point, she locked her legs around his lower back and kissed him crazy.