Page 66 of Unstable

Rutland’s gaze flicked over him, still holding the paper towels to his head, before dropping to the battered furniture strewn over the living room. He skirted the damage and headed toward the kitchen. Roman followed just a step behind him, and Rutland searched for a light switch, then flipped it on and turned to him. “You hurt?”

Roman pulled the towels away from his head and made a face at the blood he found there. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Head wounds tend to bleed like a bitch anyway.”

Rutland’s lips pressed together in a firm line as he made a circular motion with his finger. “Turn.” Roman tossed the towels on the counter and did as he was asked. Rutland made a low humming sound in the back of his throat. “Might need stitches for that one.”

Roman threw a scowl over his shoulder at him. “I’m not going to waste time in some hospital getting stitches while my girl is gone.”

Rutland inspected him shrewdly. “Tell me what happened.”

Roman heaved a breath and told him everything he could remember. “I was still out on the patio when Irina went inside. I was locking the cabinet on the side of the house when someone must’ve snuck up on me and bashed me in the back of the head. The next thing I remember was waking up and hearing voices from inside. By the time I made it into the house, they were already getting in the car.”

He told Rutland what she’d been wearing and his speculations about her phone. “She might still have it on her. One of our guys is working on tracing it if it’s still active.”

Rutland was already pulling his phone from his back pocket. He relayed the information Roman had just imparted, then requested a medic be sent to the house. Roman slanted a look at him. “Tell me what I can do.”

Not bothering with false hope or worthless platitudes, Rutland gave a slight shake of his head. “Give it some time. My guys are checking every car leaving the island and watching for anything that looks suspicious.”

Roman growled low in his throat. “That doesn’t really help.”

“There’s no magic formula to these,” Rutland replied.

He was a straight shooter, Roman would give him that. Although he knew Rutland was telling the truth, he hated the answer. His girl was out there somewhere—and he would tear this island apart to find her if he had to.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-THREE

Aster whipped the car around a turn, and Irina was thrown sideways under the force of the acceleration. The man, Dale, roughly gripped her biceps to yank her upright. She wriggled in place until she was sitting and tried to pull away from him, but his hold was too strong.

Aster drove within the speed limit, careful not to draw undue attention to them. Irina could see Aster's reflection in the rearview mirror and glared at her. Aster had been her best friend, the closest thing she had to a sister, for nearly two years when they had sung backup for Christina Tucker together. Irina couldn’t begin to imagine what had possessed Aster to do this.

A set of flashing red and blue lights through the windshield caught her attention, and her heart gave a hard thump in her chest. The police. From the driver’s seat, Aster swore.

“Relax,” Dale spoke up. “Just drive normal.”

The officer sped by, headed in the opposite direction, and despair settled over Irina. Deep down, she had been hoping that Roman had called the police and they were already on the way to save her. Less than twenty seconds later, another car whizzed by.

“Dale?” There was no mistaking the worry in Aster's voice this time.

“Follow them,” Dale directed.

Aster’s head whipped around to look at him. “Are you crazy?”

“Do it.” His tone was hard and commanding, and Aster reluctantly slowed the car, then turned at the next intersection. Irina's heart thumped erratically as they circled back around and fell in behind the police, who were now far in front of them.

Red and blue lights pierced the dark night sky, heralding their position. As they got closer, Irina could see several police cruisers blocking off the road to the south end of the island that led to Longboat Key, as well as the bridge back to the mainland.

“They’re shutting down the island,” Dale said softly. “Turn right up here and head back to the house.”

Aster did as he said, but Irina watched her fingers clench around the steering wheel. It was clear she was nervous, worried about being caught. Irina thought maybe she could use that to her advantage. Dale was definitely the one in charge here. She would have to isolate Aster and see if she could talk some sense into her.

Irina watched their surroundings as Aster wound her way through the side streets before turning back onto the main drag and heading toward the very tip of the island. A few minutes later, Aster turned left toward the beach and pulled to a stop along the side of what appeared to be a small condo complex.

The only light came from a street lamp on the corner; there seemed to be no life within any of the units. Judging from the shape of the building, Irina guessed there to be at least three condos. With the windows dark, it was hard to tell. They were either uninhabited during this slow season, or the occupants were out enjoying themselves. Irina prayed they were just out and would be returning soon.

Dale threw open the door, then grabbed Irina's arm and hauled her out behind him. She didn’t have time to move her feet, and she fell from the car, landing on her hands and knees on the rough pavement. Her cry of pain was muffled behind the duct tape covering her mouth, and he picked her up like a toddler and set her on her feet. One hand fisted in the back of her shirt, he marched her forward, toward the door on the right side of the complex.

Aster unlocked the door, and Dale led Irina through the dark condo. She stumbled a couple of times, bumping into furniture, and Dale roughly jerked her around until they reached a room at the very back of the unit. Lit only by the faint glow of the streetlight filtering through a small, frosted glass window, Irina could tell that it was a bathroom.