Chapter 23

Bennett

I flew across town, only stopping long enough to pick up a bouquet of flowers for Tori. They weren't much. Not even a fraction of the gifts I wanted to buy for her. But it was a start.

My heart raced, and an uncontrollable smile took hold as I zeroed in on the club. My phone rang when I pulled into the parking garage across the street. I cursed when I saw Pax's number on the screen.

"What?" I said, snapping up the call. "Did the asshole finally make a move?"

"No such luck," he answered. "But he made a call on the phone you bugged."

"Who'd he call?"

"Reed Parkston."

A nagging suspicion was still clinging to my opinion of Reed. So far, I hadn't been able to connect him to any of Richie's dealings, but something was holding me back from clearing him off the persons of interest list.

"What'd they talk about?"

"Don't know," Pax replied.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"All we know is who the call was to and when it was placed. You got any idea where Parkston is? Maybe they're setting up a meeting. Any chance Parkston is interested in the weapons?"

I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. I hadn't considered that angle before. What the hell would Parkston want with a rocket launcher? Or a cargo box full of automatic weapons? It didn't fit.

"I doubt it. All my digging hasn't turned anything up to suggest he's in on Richie's shit. He appears to be a legit businessman. But I'm at the club. If he's here, I'll find him and see if he knows what his little pal is into."

"All right. Be careful, Bulldog."

"Always am," I said, grinning as I clicked off the call. My eyes snagged on the bouquet of flowers. They'd have to wait. I'd give them to Tori when we got back to the truck. Yeah, that would work.

I hopped out and hustled across the street, dodging a speeding sports car hauling ass up the road. I pushed inside the club's main entrance and hung back half a step as I scanned the main room and bar area.

A trio of pretty women sat at the bar, dressed to the nines, with a drink in front of each of them, but they were all busy looking around and not picking up their glasses. I cocked my head, wondering what they were waiting on. Then again…in Parkston's On the Hill, maybe I didn't want to know what—or rather who—they were waiting on.

Reed wasn't in sight, but that was normal. He was probably in the office. I made my way across the club as soon as I assured myself that Richie and his men weren't hanging around in the shadows, waiting for my return. I stopped at the bar and a blonde approached me, leaning over to display her tits as she offered up a welcoming smile.

"Evening, sir. What can I do for you?"

"Is Avery here?"

The blonde backed up half a step as her lips twisted into a pout. Obviously, she'd been hoping to keep me company for the night. "Avery's in the office."

"Would you please tell her that she has a customer here?" I asked, not leaving room for argument in my tone.

The blonde nodded. "Sure."

She hurried off to the phone on the opposite end of the bar, and I watched as she picked up the receiver. The three women I'd noticed were a few seats away, still glancing around and not touching their drinks.

"Should we start without her?" one of the women asked her friends.

The blonde shrugged her shoulders. "I guess so…it's been a while, though."

The other two murmured their agreement. I watched as they all turned on their stools to glance at the narrow hallway that led to the club's office space.

"That poor girl must really be having a rough time," one of the dark-haired women added. "What was her name? Avery? I don't think Paige's mentioned her before. Maybe she's new."

Avery? Paige?

My pulse slammed back into hyperdrive. The blonde bartender strutted back over and offered an apologetic smile.

"No one's picking up. Avery might have gone home for the night. I'll take excellent care of you, though," she smiled, showcasing a dimple on her left cheek. "I promise."

"Where's Reed?" I asked loudly enough that the three women to my right all swiveled around.

The blonde sighed. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll be back in a few minutes once you've had a chance to look over the menu." She stalked off to tend to customers at the other side of the bar.

"You know Reed?"

I pushed off from the bar and went to join the trio of ladies, addressing the pretty woman with the long, dark waves. "I do. Are you a friend of his and Paige's?"

They all smiled and nodded. "Longtime friends with Paige, and we've adopted Reed as an honorary member of our little club."

"And you're here to see Paige?" I prompted.

The blonde said, "We're here with Paige, actually, but she was helping an employee and told us to go ahead without her. But it's been a while. We were just considering sending out some kind of search party but don't want to interrupt if there's something…delicate…going on."

"Where was she?"

"The office."

I glanced back at the bar where the blonde bartender had informed me no one had picked up the office phone, my stomach twisting into tighter knots by the second.

"Thanks, ladies," I said, already three feet away as I stormed across the club to get to the office.

I bypassed the Employees Only sign and slammed the door open.

"What the fuck!" An angry Reed Parkston shouted, glaring at me. "If Richie sent you to rough me up, I only have one thing to say?—"

The distinct sound of a gun cocking echoed through the room, and half a heartbeat later, Reed raised a piece from under the edge of the desk as he shot to his feet.

I held my hands up, palms out. "Back the hell off, Parkston. I'm not here to rough you up. Put the gun down. Now."

Reed's eyes narrowed to thin slits. "Where is she? Where does he have her?"

"Who?"

"Paige!"

I noticed a slight tremor of the gun. He was scared shitless.

"Listen to me, Parkston, I'm not in the mood to fuck around. I can help you, but you gotta put the goddamn gun down."

Reed considered me for a moment and then lowered it to the desk. He collapsed back into his leather chair and frantically raked his hands through his hair as though trying to rid them of the sensation of holding the cold metal in the first place.

"I don't know what's happening to me. I'm losing it."

I eyed the gun. It was still within his reach, but I took a gamble and kept my own piece tucked into the back of my jeans as I stalked into the room. I planted my hands on the desk.

"Start at the beginning."

"Who are you?" Reed demanded. "Don't you work for that piece of shit, Dalton?"

I tugged my FBI badge from my back pocket and dropped it open for him, letting it answer his question about my loyalties. "I'm one of the good guys, Parkston. I won't get into all the details right now but rest assured that I'm on your side. Now, if you're done asking questions, how about you start answering some of mine."

Reed stared at my badge and then at me as though comparing the image to my face. I looked slightly different than the picture, but it was close enough. The photo had been snapped a few years back, and I was clean-shaven with lighter hair. Bennett. Not Eric.

Reed made up his mind and offered a slight nod. I snapped the badge shut, re-pocketed it, and planted my hands on the desk.

"What happened? Where is Tor—" I stopped myself, mentally kicking myself from almost giving up Tori's name. "Where is Avery?"

"I don't know," Reed replied, his voice still shaky. "If she was with Paige…oh God. She was probably taken, too. He didn't say on the message, but?—"

"Taken? What do you mean?"

Reed rubbed his hands over his face. He was a man close to the brink. I could see it. Feel it. He was about to crumble under the weight of the situation. My heart rocketed into triple time as I waited for him to continue. It took every shred of control not to launch myself over the desk and rattle him until his teeth chattered together.

"Dalton has her. Them."

Dark, ugly hate curled inside me and instantly ignited into a bonfire of rage. "What?" I boomed, losing grip on my own leash.

Reed shot to his feet. "He wants the club. He's been after me about it for a while now. I figured he was just a persistent businessman. You know, the assholes who won't take no for an answer. Damn it!"

He stopped and spun around to slam a fist onto the desk's smooth surface. "I should have seen this coming!"

I shook my head. "Rewind. How do you know he took Paige and Avery?"

"He called and left a message on my cell. If I don't send over the signed contracts for him to take possession of Parkston's, he'll hurt Paige."

"And Avery?"

"She and Paige are close. Paige's friends said the last time they saw Paige, she was in here talking to Avery. Avery was upset about something."

Hot guilt slid down to the pit of my stomach. I was the reason she'd been upset. She watched Richie's men all but drag my ass from the club. She'd probably been terrified, and I hadn't been able to explain anything or tell her that I was all right once the deal was done. I'd been so consumed with returning to the outpost and checking the trackers that I hadn't called her until…until it was too late.

"When was this?" I barked.

"Forty minutes ago. He said I had an hour."

"Did you call the cops?"

Reed shook his head. "He said he'd kill her."

His voice was thin, barely above a whisper.

"Okay. We're going to get them back."

"Do you need to call it in? Get back up?"

I hesitated a moment. I knew Richie—far more than I'd like to—and if I knew one thing about him, he was a man of his word. In the worst way. If he said he'd kill Paige—and Tori—he meant it. And God forbid he had some of his other idiots there, wherever he held them. Richie liked to put on a show, to display his power and prominence within the Sanderson family.

A shiver snaked down my back. If Dalton held Tori, there was a good chance that someone would recognize her from the Paul Sanderson bust. And if that happened, there was no question Richie would kill her on the spot.

"No," I snapped. "That'll take too long. Let's go."

It went against every protocol in the book, everything I'd been trained and taught, every command I'd ever been given. And I didn't give a shit. This wasn't business as usual. This was fucking personal, and I was going to handle it…personally.

And I knew just where to start the hunt.

"Come on, Parkston. Let's go kick that son of a bitch's ass."