Page 96 of Striker
“To work here, no. But to work . . . yes.”
Atlas’s stomach bunched. No wonder their mission had been to take Rex alive. Not only was the bastard selling drugs—it sounded as though he was selling women, too.
“What else do you know?” he asked, tucking his phone back in his pocket. “Where did he keep these women and girls?”
Jenna backed up an inch and shook her head. “I don’t know anything else. I told you everything.”
Goddammit. They’d come here for nothing. Wasted time. He should’ve stayed at the hotel. Should’ve done anything but?—
“Think,” Viper said. “Please. How about any of Rex’s customers? Maybe someone got pissed off enough to go after our friend.”
No, that didn’t make sense. Even as Viper spoke the words, Atlas rejected them.
“I don’t see how there could be a connection. Maybe you need to look at who else would want to hurt your friend—or someone your friend made angry. I have to go. Please, don’t come back.” She opened the door and disappeared.
Atlas curled his hands into fists and wheeled on Viper. “This was a waste of fucking time,” he spat, his words swallowed by the blaring music beyond the room that only added to the pounding in his head.
Viper nudged him toward the door. “Let’s talk outside.”
They made their way through the club and received a few curious glances from patrons and servers. Exiting, they passed Del without him giving them a second glance.
Atlas kept his head on a swivel as they crossed the street to their SUV. He got in the passenger seat and slammed the door.
Viper got behind the wheel and turned on the engine. “Look, I know it doesn’t look good, but?—”
“You think she’s telling the truth?” Skepticism lashed his voice.
Viper sighed. “I think what she said made sense. I’ve said from the beginning it doesn’t add up that Rex is behind her kidnapping this time.”
“Well who the hell else would—” The blood drained from his face.
Viper leaned closer, his gaze wide. “What?”
“Her boss.” Christ. He’d been so goddamn fixated on Rex that he hadn’t read the writing on the wall.
The whole reason Rex had taken Molly in the first place. Not because she was a random woman he could exploit, but because he believed she knew something about his rival.
Molly had said she’d suspected Willy was involved in some questionable business dealings, but it hadn’t crossed his mind that there’d be a reason for her boss to go after her.
“Go back to the hotel,” he ordered. “We’ve got a lead.”
Sand kicked up as Molly ran. Waves rushed toward her feet. She leapt further up onto the pebbly shore and away from the swells that would slow her down.
She neared the dock. The boat swayed as if waving her forward. Chris’s heavy breathing grew louder behind her.
Terror crackled the backs of her legs. Stones tore apart the soles of her feet, but she didn’t slow. Her hair whipped in front of her eyes, and her clothes stuck to her as she ran. A big wave crashed against her legs, nearly taking her out.
“There’s nowhere for you to run!” Chris’s maniacal laugh swirled around her with the storm. “Give up and I won’t beat your fucking ass!”
Yeah, right.
Her breath squeaked through her lips. She wouldn’t give up without a fight. She’d die on this beach or in the inky swells ahead before she’d let him catch her.
The dock was only feet away. She pushed harder and then leapt onto the rickety planks. Her feet slapped against the slick wood. She ran for the boat. Skidding to a stop, she unwound the rope securing it in place.
She threw a hasty glance toward the beach.
Chris hit the dock, his face twisted with fury, his hair plastered to his head. Blood trickled over his face.
