“Shut the fuck up.”
“He’s eleven.”
I rolled to the floor when he suddenly stopped the car, pain shooting up my shoulder and across my hips, both of which hit first.
By the time I twisted my head to look up, he was leaned around the driver’s seat, pointing his gun at me.
“I said,” he whispered, “shut the fuck up.”
I shut the fuck up.
He waited.
Then he turned back around and drove.
* * * * *
Garrett
“She didn’t run.”
Garrett stood in the parking lot of Bobbie’s with Colt, Mike, and Sully, listening to Susie Shepherd talk, Mia standing next to her but not close. Both of them were visibly freaked right the fuck out, but surprisingly, it was Susie who had it together to report what had happened.
He tried to stay locked on Susie, but he couldn’t.
His eyes wandered to the back of the Equinox. The hatch up.
She’d been loading bags when Mia confronted her. Interrupted by his fucking ex-wife, then abducted by an unknown man with a weapon.
Six shopping bags he could count.
Fucking six.
She was excited for Christmas. Christmas with him and her boy.
Pink ornaments.
“It was too late, though. He was right on her. Snuck up the side of her car. She didn’t see him because she was dealing with Mia, and I didn’t see him because I was too. Cher didn’t have time to run,” Susie finished, and Garrett looked back to her.
“Merry,” Mia whispered.
Abe ran up. “BOLO out on the vehicle. They’re settin’ up roadblocks. Everyone’s been called in.” His eyes fell on Merry. “Everyone, dude. Everyone’s out lookin’.”
Even though the man had shot three rounds into the air to make his point, everyone getting that point and scattering, Susie had managed to have it together enough to see what car the man took Cher to. Make, model, but she got no plate.
Now they had a BOLO.
“Merry,” Mia whispered again.
“Describe him again,” Garrett clipped at Susie.
“Dark hair. Receding. Gray in it. Same with his goatee,” she described. “Good clothes. Blue shirt, nice jeans, nice leather jacket. He had some heft, but it worked on him.” She glanced at Colt before she returned her attention to Merry. “You know my type, so just to be helpful, I wouldn’t fuck him. He’s too short, he wasn’t all that, and he’s clearly a psychopath, shooting gunshots in the air in a fucking garden shop parking lot.”
Garrett turned to his partner. “Find Ryker.”
“You got something?” Mike asked.
“Just find Ryker.”
Mike nodded and stepped back, pulling out his phone.
He looked to Colt and Sully. “Call Warren. Nowakowski. Find out if Walter Jones was FBI.”
“Jesus, Merry, you think—?” Colt started.
Garrett looked back at Susie. “You said his vehicle looked like a rental?”
She nodded. “I saw a decal. Didn’t see it clearly, but it didn’t say dealership. It said rental. Just didn’t see which company.”
Garrett turned to Colt. “Description matches, Colt.”
“I’ll call Nowakowski,” Sully murmured. “You call Warren.”
They pulled out their phones.
“Merry,” Mia whispered.
Hearing her repeat his name, he felt it snap. It was a twinge right at his heart, small but not insignificant, seeing as it reverberated through his frame, exploding in his brain.
Compelled by the explosion, Garrett turned to her and roared, “Not now, Mia!”
Her pale face turned ash.
“You love her,” she kept whispering.
“Jesus, fuck,” Garrett clipped, turning to put distance between himself and his ex, not to mention get to the goddamned car so he could look for his woman, doing this while ordering to a hovering Marty, “Get that bitch away from me.”
He could not go apeshit crazy. He had to keep it locked down. If he lost his mind, he couldn’t use it to find his woman. And when he found her, he’d be in no place to be there for her.
He had to lock it down.
“Uh…Mia, if you’d—” Marty started.
“I’m gonna go out and look for her.”
Garrett turned back at his ex-wife’s words.
“I’m gonna look for her,” she declared again.
She lifted her chin and caught hold of Susie’s hand.
Mia Merrick, spoiled rich girl, holding fucking Susie Shepherd’s hand, Susie being spoiled bitch girl.
“Me and Susie. Me and Susie are gonna go look for Cher,” she kept at it.
Susie yanked her hand away and looked down in disgust at Mia, demanding to know, “Have you lost your mind?”
Mia looked up at Susie. “You said you were sisters.”
Cher and Susie, sisters?
“We are, but I’m not doin’ shit with you. I got nothing to prove. And anyway, might be a good idea you let the people who know what they’re doing do it without you in the way,” Susie returned, and looked to Garrett. “Are we done?”
“Keep your phone close,” Garrett told her.
She nodded, glared at Mia, and stomped away.
“Well, I’m gonna look for her myself, then,” Mia declared.
“You impede this search, I swear to fuck—” Garrett started.
“I want to help,” she returned.
She wanted to make a point. She wanted to make a play.
And now was so not the time, it wasn’t fucking funny.
“Then how about you shut up and go home,” Mike asked, phone still to his ear, irate eyes on Mia.