Lance was the best tracker I knew. If there was any evidence of Henri being brought to the building, he would find it.
When we approached, I pointed to the side door where Charles had stood when he was shot. There was no one around. No cars were parked in the alley or on the street in front of the building like there had been before.
Lance motioned for me to wait. He moved carefully, looking at the ground. I was vibrating inside, but I held myself still. I didn’t even breathe as he studied the area. Finally, he motioned for me to join him. Had he found something?
He pointed to the ground. There were two sets of footprints visible in the muck of the alley. There were cigarette butts thrown down by the steps that led to the side door. They were still white and perfectly round. If they’d been there long, they would have been dirty and crushed. It wasn’t much, but someone had been there recently.
Lance’s phone buzzed, and he held up a finger, signaling me to stay where I was. A moment later, he held up his phone and showed me a text from Blackjack. Charles alive. Death faked. Working with gunrunners. Planned a takeover.
Shit, he’d double-crossed his twin brother. “He’s mine,” I whispered.
Instead of responding, he grabbed my arm and pointed at something shiny that lay to the side of the stoop. I bent and retrieved it. Henri’s phone.
Lance raised his brows, and I nodded. I wanted to rush in. I didn’t care who or what was in that building. I was going to take them out and get my man back, but Lance tugged me back down the street.
“We need a plan,” Lance said.
I could only nod in response. I was seething with anger, and I knew I was lost to reason.
42
Henri
The dark-haired man delivered a sharp kick to my chest. I thought the searing pain I felt might be from a cracked rib. I bit down on my lower lip, trying to stay quiet, but some of my agony crept through anyway. The man loomed over me, laughing. He was enjoying my misery. I wondered again when it would end, then something creaked, a man shouted, and gunfire erupted.
The man torturing me pulled his gun, but before he could aim it, Remington appeared and grabbed him. The man’s gun went flying, and Remington wrenched his neck. There was a sickening crack and Remington dropped his body to the floor and raced to me.
“Henri, are you okay?”
I couldn’t find my voice. I stared at the man who had tortured me. He had to be dead. No one’s head could hang at that angle if they were alive.
“Henri! Look at me. Please.” Remington’s hands skimmed over me. I cried out when he touched my arm. “Shit. I’ll take care of you. I promise. I wish I could kill that fucking bastard again.”
Lance appeared then. “It’s finished. I know you wanted Landry, but I killed him for you. Henri needed you more.”
He nodded as he ran his hand over my hair. “I’m right here, cher.”
Lance cut me free from the tape that bound my wrists and ankles. I cradled my left arm against my abdomen, trying to breathe through the pain.
“We need to get him out of here, Remy,” Lance said. “He needs a doctor.”
Remington cupped my face. “Henri, I love you. I’m so sorry about… everything.”
I looked up at him then and tried to free myself from the daze I’d been in. He’d just charged in to save me. He hadn’t cared that the man who was hurting me was armed. He hadn’t cared about anything but—“I love you too.” My voice was rough and weak, but his smile told me he understood.
“Oh, cher, I love you more than anything. I was wrong, so stupid and… wrong and…”
There were tears in his eyes, and I was certain Remington rarely, if ever, cried.
“Come on. Show me where you’re hurt other than your arm.”
“I… um… I may have a cracked rib.” When I pointed to my chest, Remington saw the burn marks. He turned my arm over slowly and examined it, then he kicked the man who’d tortured me so viciously. His body slammed against the wall.
I frowned. “Isn’t he already dead?”
Lance smiled at me. “It never hurts to make sure.”
Remington picked me up and held me against him, careful not to jostle my arm. “Lance, you drive. I’ll send someone back for my car.”
Lance frowned. “I’m not sure your car will still be here when we come back. If it’s even still here now.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the car. All I care about is getting Henri out of here and having his injuries seen to.”
I stared at him. “Did you drive the Ferrari?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter.”
He’d referred to the car as his baby, and now… I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed. “I don’t want to go to the hospital. I just want to stay with you.”
“I have no intention of leaving you even for a minute,” Remington said. “There would be too many questions if we went to the hospital. We have a doctor on retainer who will come to my house.”
Lance patted his brother’s shoulder. “I’ve already contacted him.”
Remington held me in the back seat as Lance drove. They both wanted to know exactly what had happened, so I explained about the men grabbing me. A sudden memory had me trying to sit up. “They shot someone. There was a man. I think he was trying to help me, and they shot him.”
Remington glanced away and let out a long breath.
“What is it? Did you find him? Did he die?”
“He’s fine. I… I had him following you. I needed to know you
