44. Something

Foxx knitted on autopilot as he stared at the TV, fully engrossed in the true crime show he was watching, when his gaze happened to slip down and catch the time on the cable box. Needles freezing, he stared at the numbers—7:30pm.

Frowning, Foxx tossed his project aside and grabbed his phone off the couch next to him to call Harlow. He tapped his free hand on his thigh as it rang…and rang…and rang some more. When the voicemail message clicked on, and he heard Harlow just bark out his name instead of an actual recorded message, his stomach dropped.

He tried again, as the phone rang and rang, and once again went to voicemail, the hair on the back of his neck stood.

Something…was wrong. He just…knew something was…

He bit his lip and called Tony.

The call picked up almost immediately. "Please tell me you aren't calling to tell me that one of you has been injured again," Tony begged.

"I need you to turn on Harlow's tracker and tell me where he is."

"Uhh…what?! Why?"

"Because he said he'd be gone at most two hours and it's been over four, and he is not picking up his phone."

"Foxx…you realize he could just be ignoring you."

"He's not."

"You can't be sure of that."

Foxx hissed. "He's not ignoring me! We're supposed to go on a date when he gets back from whatever appointment he had, but he hasn't actually come back yet! Something is wrong!"

"A date, with who?"

He pulled the phone away from his ear in bafflement before putting it back up. "With me, of course."

"With you, of course, what?"

Foxx rolled his eyes, and as if he was talking to an idiot, he spoke slowly. "Harlow was supposed to come back and then WE were supposed to go on a date, TOGETHER."

"Why…?"

"For fuck's sake, Tony! Harlow and I are dating! Understand?! Good! Now, fucking track his ass down!"

Tony made a groaning sound. "You two are such a headache."

"Tony! Track him down!"

"Before you go crazy fucking stalker on his ass, let me check where his Jeep is."

"You have a tracker in his car?!" Foxx hissed.

"Don't get huffy, he knows about it. His Jeep got stolen once during a hunt, and it's been in there ever since."

"Of course it has," he deadpanned.

Foxx heard typing, a pause in noise and then even more typing.

"Ah…I know where he's at. Likely, the appointment just ran over."

Yeah, nope, Foxx didn't buy it. His gut was telling him to find Harlow, so that was what he was going to do.

"You know what appointment he was going to?"

"I know who he's seeing."

"Well, I know nothing about it, but what I do know is that something is wrong. So again, turn on the personal tracker."

"Foxx…he's fine."

"He's not. He's not answering. He always answers, no matter where he is or what he's doing—whether he is in the middle of taking a shit, fucking, or offing someone. Therefore, something is wrong."

"If I give you the damn address so you can see that I'm right, will you let it go?"

Foxx ground his teeth before huffing. "Fine! Give me the damn address!"

* * *

Foxx arrivedat the address Tony had given him as quickly as he could without getting pulled over. Turning into the lot, he glanced around, looking for Harlow's Jeep, his shoulders tensing as he spotted it on the far right, next to what looked like a forested area.

Parking a few rows over, he grabbed his phone and Harlow's extra set of keys, dropping both into his front dungaree pocket before jumping out. Foxx kept his eyes and ears open while he approached the vehicle. On finding no one nearby ready to attack him, he tried the door.

When it opened, his breath caught in his throat. Harlow…would never leave his Jeep unlocked. The weapons he kept inside it alone ensured that. Pulse thudding in his ears, when his vision started to narrow, darkness encroaching along the edges, Foxx closed the door and took an unsteady step back.

His head swam as his breathing became faster and more erratic with each second. When his vision started to shrink more and more, Foxx screamed, "NO!"

He didn't have time for this! Foxx forced himself to take a slow, deep breath. Sweat formed on his brow, and was dripping down by the time he managed to force the panic back.

Swallowing hard, breathing heavy but no longer panicked, Foxx pulled out his phone and tried Harlow's again.

He spun around when the ringing started. Just a few feet away on the ground, laid the man's flip phone.

Ending the call, he pocketed his own, almost stumbling in his rush to pick it up.

Opening it, Foxx eyed the cracked screen with a frown. It took a moment before he remembered how to navigate on it, but eventually got to the call log.

His lip trembled at the repeated missed calls from My Brat. Harlow…had even claimed him in his phone. Shoving down the swelling emotions and worry, he scrolled, frowning at the calls that were missed before his.

There were several from someone who Harlow had nicknamed, Nosy Fucker, and also one outgoing to the same person from last night. Besides those, there was one more incoming call between the time Harlow started to miss calls and the last one he made, from Racheal BMW. The call only lasted a minute, but it was around the time Harlow likely would have arrived here. Unless this wasn't where he'd initially been going? He hesitated and then decided to disregard the likely unimportant call and called Nosy Fucker.

Surprisingly, someone picked up after the first ring. "Harlow, is everything alright? Did you change your mind?" a man asked.

"Who is this?"

The guy went silent for a moment before asking the same question back. "Who is this?"

"I'm Harlow's boyfriend and partner, Foxx," he said stiffly. "Now, who is this? And I expect an answer this time. Because I found his phone on the ground just feet from his very unlocked Jeep, which by the way, is no doubt full of weapons. So talk!"

"That…is concerning. Foxx Honeywell, right?"

"Yes…?" he said hesitantly.

"Well, Foxx, I'm Dr. Wes Ackerman, Harlow's psychiatrist. I can't tell you too much more than that. But I will say that he had an appointment with me at 3:45pm, but never showed up."

Foxx's eyes widened. That…had not been what he'd expected the man to say. "His…psychiatrist… Are you fucking with me?"

"Ha… No, I'm not."

"I…Well, fuck. I don't have time for this. Since you don't know what happened, I'm hanging up. Bye," Foxx snapped, and he was about to slam the phone shut when he noticed that Harlow had a new text.

Opening the inbox, he eyed the weird number before opening the new message. Foxx's brow rose on seeing a picture of himself at the door of the apartment, with a time and date at the bottom. "What…"

Frowning, he scrolled up, his eyes widening on finding more pictures of his front door, with a mix of him, Harlow, and even Alastair further up. Shaking his head, he closed the phone.

"Whatever that is…it"s likely just fucking Harlow being himself. Focus, Foxx!" he told himself, before taking a deep breath and pulling out his phone again.

Foxx was about to call Tony when he spotted a security camera above the convenience store near where Harlow's SUV was parked.

His gaze flicked back and forth between the camera and where the phone had been, before he made the split decision that it was worth checking out.

Pocketing both phones, he sprinted over and into the store, gasping, "I need to see your outside security footage!"

The tall, lean man standing at the checkout counter blinked a few times, but said nothing.

"Hello?! Anyone home?" Foxx hissed, snapping his fingers. He cursed when the man continued to stare dumbly at him, looking for all intents and purposes like he either didn't hear him, or he just really gave that little of a fuck about everything going on around him. Pulling out his hunter's badge, he demanded, "Get your damn manager."

The man stiffened at the flash of his badge, and finally started to act like he wasn't braindead. Foxx tapped his foot impatiently as the man got out from behind the counter and headed into the back. A few seconds later, the guy returned with a man who was balding and shorter than Foxx.

"Can I help you with something, sir?" the short human asked with a stiff smile.

"Official Hunters Guild business. I need to see the security footage from today around 3:30pm from the camera you have looking out over the parking lot."

"Ah…okay…follow me."

The man spun and Foxx followed him back to a tiny room with a wall of banned customers, a desk, and a computer. Foxx stood behind the shorter man as he sat in the chair and pulled up the footage.

"Here is the time you requested," the man said before standing up and waving him towards the chair.

Foxx quickly sat and used the mouse to slide through the video, stopping and pressing play when Harlow's vehicle pulled in. His heart thudded away as he watched Harlow park, the thing speeding faster and faster with each second that ticked by while he waited to see the moment something went wrong… And something did go wrong.

Harlow got out, took a few steps away and then paused to look around, as if he sensed that someone was there. But seconds later, he pocketed something in his hand, before reaching into his jacket and pulling out his phone. The last answered call...

When the call ended and Harlow started to lower his flip phone...that's when it happened.

The human suddenly went stiff, the phone falling from his hand as he grasped at his neck. Harlow appeared to pull something off himself before throwing whatever it was away. Spinning around, the human took one step back before collapsing.

The store owner behind him gasped. Foxx ignored him, his eyes glued to the feed, his hands clenched into fists as two figures appeared almost out of nowhere, the camera too slow to capture them entering. Seconds later, both Harlow and the figures were gone.

Taken… Someone had taken Harlow… His vision once again tried to close in, but Foxx fought it back.

Taking a deep breath, he rewound the video, squinting this time, trying to see what Harlow had tossed away, but found the feed was just too grainy to tell.

"Thank you," Foxx mumbled.

Standing by sheer will alone, he once again forced back the terror that tried to take hold of him and left the store, speed walking back to the spot where he'd found Harlow's phone. He kept going in the direction of where the man had thrown whatever had hit him.

Taking a deep breath, on catching the faint scent of Harlow's blood, he found what he was looking for. Crouching, he picked up the small object. It was…a dart—a tranquilizer dart.

He let out a shuddered breath as his shoulders sagged… Harlow was alive…he had to be. They…wouldn't just take him with them to kill him, would they?!

Even if they had…it would be a while before whatever they shot him up with would wear off. They wouldn't just kill him in his sleep… What would the point be?!

Foxx pulled his phone out and took a deep breath, in an effort to stop his hands from shaking, before finally calling Tony again. As soon as the call connected, he let loose. "Harlow has been taken! TURN ON HIS FUCKING TRACKER. And before you fucking tell me things are fine, I found not only his cell phone on the ground, and his car unlocked, but also store security footage literally showing him being fucking kidnap. SO, TURN. IT. ON!" he screeched.

Tony remained silent for a brief moment, before slowly asking, "Did you get a look at them?"

"The footage was grainy! I was lucky to notice that Harlow had ripped a damn dart from his fucking neck. Turn it on!"

"I'm doing it now, Foxx. Calm?—"

"DO NOT TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! JUST DO IT! If you would have done it in the bloody fucking first place, I would have probably found him by now. Instead of wasting Goddess knows how much time coming here!"

"It's on. You have the tracking app on your phone already. But before you run off on your own, let me send a team to go with you."

"I'm not fucking waiting." Foxx hung up without another word and blocked Tony's number when he continued to call.

Opening the app, he tried to not get angry on seeing the address was only thirty minutes from the apartment, but fifty minutes from where he was right now.

Foxx jumped into Harlow's Jeep. Pulling out the second set of keys he'd brought with him, he started the car, backed out of the spot, and peeled away.