Page 120 of Temptation
A gun. Holster.
A…star. On a brown shirt. A deputy’s shirt. A deputy’s star on his uniform.
“Hi, ma’am,” Deputy Eugene Calvin greeted her. “You think you’re going somewhere?”
“I—”
A guttural roar sounded behind her. It was followed by a hard, brutal grab of her hair.
“You bitch!” Adam snarled.
You bastard.
He slammed her face into the dirt.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
He couldn’t drive the vehicle fast enough. A security guard at the hospital had found the Range Rover’s keys and given them to Preston, and he was hauling ass. Noble rode shotgun with him. Noble had also alerted Atlas Bennett and Lily. Atlas had been pissed as hell even before he’d been given the news about Sloane because, apparently, some jerk had slashed the tires of his friend Desmond’s ride. Desmond—the guard that Atlas had brought in to keep covert watch on Sloane.
Sloane should have been protected. She should have been safe.
I failed her. He’d let Sloane down. She’d been taken, but he was getting her back. There was no other option. He would get Sloane back. She would be alive. She would be safe.
“Yeah, okay, buddy…” Noble gripped the dashboard. “Just because a vehicle can go this fast doesn’t mean that it should?—”
Preston growled.
“Fine. Go fast. But how about—don’t kill us? Don’t kill anyone else? No innocent bystanders?”
“Turn right at the next road.” Josie’s voice drifted through the car’s speaker.
“That means you have to slow down,” Noble informed him. “Otherwise, you take that turn at this speed, and we will be leaving Sloane on her own. You don’t want that, do you?”
“I’m feeding the same driving instructions to the Feds,” Josie informed them. “Got a link with Dominic even as we speak. Someone will be saving Sloane. Atlas and Lily are closing in, too. They are getting the directions, as well. My friend is not dying today.”
No, Sloane was not.
Preston slowed, just so he could take the right.
“If we go in with tires screeching and the engine snarling, he might kill her right away.” Noble maintained his grip on the dashboard. “Maybe we should try to sneak up on him. Not like we want him slitting her throat or shooting her or?—”
“You are not helping,” Preston gritted from between clenched teeth. “No one is shooting her. No one is slitting her throat. Sloane is going to be fine.”
“Right. Check. Fine. Better than fine.” Noble exhaled. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”
Did this look like the time to ask him a personal question? Preston took the right.
The vehicle lurched.
“Motherfu—keep us alive!” Noble bellowed
He was. He had to stay alive so he could kill the bastard who’d taken Sloane.
“Go straight,” Josie told him. She was tracking him based on his phone’s location. “You’re five miles away from the ambulance. It’s stationary. You have this. You’re going to get her.”
“Yes.” That was all. Yes. He’d find her. He was going to get her. He would have Sloane again.
“I’m going to assume that ‘yes’ was in response to me,” Noble rushed to say. “Can’t help but notice you barely seem to be keeping your control in place. Not something that typically happens with you. Are you on the edge because?—”
