Page 52 of Untamed Hunter Daddy

I’m sitting up. The IV pulls. The cast catches on the bed rail and white-hot pain shoots from wrist to shoulder. I don’t go back down.

The nurse leaves. Kane comes through the door thirty seconds later. I know before he speaks. His face tells me everything. Kane’s face shows almost nothing under normal circumstances. Right now there’s a tightness in his jaw and a flatness in his eyes.

“She’s gone,” I say.

“Two men. Came through the service corridor. Dressed as orderlies. Used Dr. Engel’s name to get close. I was on the phone with Mason in the parking lot. Four minutes. I was gone four minutes, Ryker.”

Four minutes. Two hundred and forty seconds. The length of time it takes for the world to end when you’ve left the one person who matters sitting in a plastic chair under fluorescent lights.

The image forms behind my eyes. Zoe. Taken. In a van. Wrists in zip ties. Being moved by men who don’t see a person when they look at her. Delivered to Tyler like a package.

I pull the IV out. The sting is nothing compared to the thing living in my chest.

“How long have I been under?”

“Three hours since they took her. We’ve been working the whole time. Security footage shows a white cargo van leaving the loading dock heading south on Route 7. Partial plate. State patrol has the description out.”

“That’s not enough and you know it. If they’re taking her to Tyler they’re going to Alpha Range. A white cargo van on rural roads at night is invisible.”

“I know.” His voice cracks on the second word. One crack. One break in the stillness I’ve never seen fracture in nine years. “I was four minutes away. She was sitting in a chair and I walked to the parking lot and when I came back the chair was empty.”

I stop. The rage pauses long enough to recognize something in his voice that isn’t just professional guilt.

“It’s not on you,” I say. The words cost me because I want a target, but the target isn’t Kane. The target is Tyler. It’s always been Tyler. “They were professionals. Hospital scrubs. Cover story. They would’ve gotten past anyone.”

“They wouldn’t have gotten past you.”

“They got past me on a mountain road with a push bar. Nobody’s bulletproof. Get Mason on the phone. Now.”

Mason answers in half a ring.

“I know,” he says before I speak. “I know she’s gone. I’ve been working it for three hours. Here’s where we are.”

Paper rustles. Even now he prints everything.

“The flash drive data gave us three locations. Operating sites. Geographic codes in Tyler’s spreadsheet correspond to physical addresses within a fifty-mile radius of Alpha Range. We’ve identified two of the three. One’s a decommissioned lumber mill south of Bridger owned by a shell company. The other’s a warehouse complex on the outskirts of Alpha Range, leased under a business that doesn’t exist in any state registry.”

“The warehouse,” I say. “That’s where he’ll take her. His territory. Close to Ridge Auto. The operation he’s been rebuilding.”

“That’s our assessment. Jax ran the address. Four buildings on eight acres, one access road from the south. Property tax payments started three months ago. Matches Tyler’s timeline.”

“Get me there.”

“You’ve got a broken arm, Ryker.”

“I’ve got a broken arm and a woman in a warehouse. I’m going. Get me there or I’ll get myself there and you know which version you’d rather manage.”

A beat of silence. The same calculus he’s been running since the day I called him from the cabin porch during a blizzard and told him I’d found someone.

“Jax has a vehicle staged at the hospital. He’s been waiting for you to wake up. Kane drives. You ride. Your arm stays in the cast and you don’t do anything stupid until the team is in position.”

“Define stupid.”

“Running into a building alone with one arm because the woman you love is inside.”

“I don’t recall using that word with you.”

“You didn’t have to. I’ve known you eleven years and I’ve never heard you talk about anyone like this before.”