21. Declan

Chapter 21

Declan

E verything was set.

Vincent had been tracked down to a hotel in downtown Charlotte. Ian’s brother, Reed, was going to tamper with the hotel security cameras at exactly two o’clock in the morning. By 2:02 a.m., Vincent’s hotel room would spontaneously unlock, allowing me access and to finish the job once and for all. Ian was going to stand by in case something went wrong, but it wasn’t going to.

I was ready. When it came to my job, I never hesitated. I knew the people I had killed deserved it.

“It’s time,” Ian said as he slid his gun into his holster.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I stood. We walked out of our hotel room and I took the stairs up one level to Vincent’s floor. Ian stayed behind in the stairwell, ready to call in the clean-up crew to take Vincent’s body away. It was all about to be over in a matter of five minutes. No one would see a thing.

When I stopped at Vincent’s door, it was 2:01 a.m. My pulse pounded in my ears as I waited for the door to unlock. There was no one in the hallway; it was eerily quiet except for my erratic heartbeat. Sweat dripped down my back and I took a deep breath, holding it in for the last few seconds.

The green light on the door keypad lit up, signaling my time had come. Slowly, I opened the door, thinking there would be darkness, but the area was fully lit. There was a living room separate from the bedroom. However, the door to that was closed.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end; there was an eerie feeling swarming around me. Something wasn’t right.

Gun in hand, I quietly made my way to the bedroom door and opened it slightly. Light beamed through the crack. There was no luggage in sight, nor was there any indication that anyone had ever been in there at all. The place was empty.

That son of a bitch.

How did he escape us ?

I kicked the door open, my body shaking with rage. On the bed was a single note . . . with my name written on it. I snatched it off the bed, my hands trembling with a mixture of fury and fear. Unfolding it, I read the words scrawled in messy handwriting:

You’re too late. I already have the one thing you love the most. Find me and we’ll finish this.

Ayla.

He had her.

And I was hundreds of miles away.

I stormed out of the room and Ian met me in the hallway, his expression confused. “What’s going on?”

Rushing past him, I held up the note and he snatched it out of my hand.

“He has her,” I growled. “I have to get back to Alabama, now !”

He followed me into the elevator and my hands shook as I called Ayla. The line rang and rang.

“Dammit to fucking hell!” I shouted and called her again. She never picked up.

The thought of what Vincent was doing to her made me blind with rage. I had to find her.