When Holden had pulled into a shopping center and parked, Charleigh had followed. But, there was no missing the tentative steps she took to stand before him. She’d never looked more beautiful. And when the words “I’m pregnant” fell from her lips, Holden’s life ended. Totally and completely imploded. Despair wound around his heart and his soul died.
His life was over and he’d lost the woman he adored. She was having another man’s baby. Irrational hate had consumed him. He hated Paul Towler. Hated the world. Hated himself. Pure unadulterated hate enveloped him as he came to the understanding his future had vanished.
And in all the years since, all of the days he’d live without Charleigh, he’d never stopped loving her. All the minutes that had passed had never stopped him from wishing that Faith was his. But he’d been right that drunken night—the truth couldn’t set him free. It killed him. The doctor hadn’t made a mistake. And a DNA test would’ve been the nail he couldn’t withstand.
11
An hour later, Holden, Jameson, and Rhode stood in Patricia Towler’s kitchen shuffling through a stack of legal documents. Their play to kidnap Faith becoming more apparent with every page they turned. No amount of money was going to help them win a case against Charleigh. Holden had read a letter from a lawyer outlining the reasons his firm wouldn’t take a case they’d deemed unwinnable, therefore Hodgkin and Associates believed it would be ethically wrong to file the suit.
Holden had to admit, he was surprised a lawyer had turned down a case. However, the Towlers had found a new law firm, one that didn’t care if they couldn’t win. And after racking up the billable hours, they’d recently sent the Towlers a letter explaining that after further examination, there was very little possibility the court would find in their favor and urged them to drop the case.
So why’d they send the PI to Kent County to follow Charleigh after they’d received the letter from the attorney?
“What do we know about the PI? Chad Bullock, right?” Holden asked.
“He’s mainly a fuckwit,” Rhode said. “Ambulance-chaser type.”
“How did Patricia and Beatrice hook up with him? Does he work with the lawyer?”
Jameson’s gaze lifted from the loan documents he was looking at. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m trying to piece this together. The lawyer advised them to drop the case, then they hired a PI. I want to know where they found him. I want to understand who this guy is and if he’s an accomplice, or if Patty and Bea used him to keep tabs on Charleigh until they could strike.”
“You think he nabbed Faith for them?”
“Yes.”
The admission made Holden’s stomach knot up. It was one thing to run every possible scenario; it was another to conclude that an unknown man had taken Faith. Somehow, thinking the Towlers had the little girl was an easier pill to swallow. They were total money-grabbing assholes, but Holden didn’t believe they’d hurt Faith, they’d keep her safe until they could ransom her. Faith being held by a strange man made him sick.
“How much of a mess can I make?” Rhode asked.
“What do you mean?”
“In here. Do you care how we leave the place?”
Rhode’s intentions became clear. Holden gave zero fucks how big of a mess they left. He knew the Towlers were behind Faith’s kidnapping, and the sooner they found her, the better. If that meant Rhode tore the place apart while he searched, so be it.
“Do your worst, brother.”
A satanic smile formed on Rhode’s face before he stalked down the hall toward Patty’s bedroom. The house was decent enough, not great, not horrible. However, it was better than he’d expected since Patty didn’t believe in working all that hard. One thing Holden did remember about Paul was he despised his lazy family. He’d complained about them ad nauseum. Apparently, one or both of the women would hit him up monthly for money. He’d also bitched about his sister’s poor choices in men. More than once, Holden had heard about the deadbeats Patty brought into her life, and Paul hated how he always had to clean up the mess after they took what little money she had—which was probably Paul’s money—and dumped her.
During those times, Holden had been happy he was an only child, and while his parents had divorced when he was a teenager, their split had been perfectly amicable. Compared to some of his teammates, Holden’s family life had been utterly boring.
Holden’s mind whirled with possibilities. But he knew down to his bones Patty had a connection to the PI and it had to be personal. Rhode said the guy was a fuckwit, ambulance-chaser type, not a criminal mastermind. No, the architect would be Patty. She was a conniving bitch, but she’d need muscle behind her.
Jameson’s voice filtered through the living room but Holden ignored his friend’s phone conversation and glanced around the room looking for any signs a man lived there. Anything that would tie Chad to Patty.
“Nixon’s going to the hotel now. We’ll know in twenty minutes if Chad’s still in Kent County,” Jameson said as Rhode came back into the living room.
“A man’s living here. There are clothes in the closet.”
Holden’s heart rate ticked up and he strode to the kitchen. Jackpot, the garbage can was full. Without delay, he dumped the contents on the kitchen floor and used the toe of his boot to shift through the mess. He knelt and picked up a balled-up receipt and smoothed it out. Seconds later, Holden tossed the grocery receipt and continued to comb through the trash.
Once the trash in the house had proved to be useless, Holden and Jameson went to the garbage can outside and tore through those bags.
It took twenty minutes for Holden to finally find something. But when he did, he hit paydirt.
“They’re in Charlottesville,” Holden announced, holding a wrinkled, sullied booking confirmation. “Reservation under Chad Bullock.”
“Before we head out, let’s have Micky work her magic,” Jameson suggested.
Holden didn’t want to wait another second. He wanted to get on the road and go get Faith but he knew Jameson was right. McKenna Swagger could hack into the hotel’s security feed and computer systems to find out if Chad had checked in. They’d also have a clearer picture of what they were walking into.
His every instinct screamed for him to run to the little girl as fast as he could. She had to be scared out of her mind, even if her grandmother and aunt had her. Holden closed his eyes and remembered the last time Faith had been forced to see them. The Towlers had filed for visitation, and a guardian ad litem had been assigned to Faith. The overworked GAL had meant well when she’d set up a series of supervised visitations. According to Charleigh, the first two visits had been awkward but not traumatizing. No, the Towlers had saved that for the third visit, when they’d explained to Faith in front of the court-appointed social worker that from then on, Faith would be spending more time with them. Beatrice made her faulty play when Faith had expressed she didn’t want to spend weekends with her grandmother, and certainly not the whole summer, which was what the Towlers had wanted. Bea didn’t back down—she argued with Faith, then turned to Charleigh and bitched her out, accusing her of a whole host of nasty shit.
That was the last time Faith had been in the same room with Bea and Patty. But, it had left a lasting effect. One that Holden had gone down to Virginia to deal with when Patty and or Bea kept showing up at Charleigh’s condo, demanding to see Faith.
Holden had thought he’d made himself clear the last time he saw Beatrice. A pang of regret hit his chest. Beatrice Towler was a Gold Star Mother, her son had given his life in protection of his country. That meant something to Holden; even if he didn’t personally like the man, there was no disputing he’d died a hero’s death. Paul had been a teammate, and Holden had held his hand while he died.
And during Paul’s last moments of lucidity, he’d given Charleigh back to Holden. He’d also asked Holden to take care of his daughter. The memory was so vivid, Holden could smell the stench of sweat and blood, he could hear the artil
lery blasts, taste the fine-powdered sand and debris in his mouth as he tried to swallow the inhuman request.
Paul could’ve asked Nixon.
But he didn’t—he’d burdened Holden with more regret, more pain, more torture.
So in the end, Paul Towler had won. He’d instigated the biggest fuck you he could, then died.
Since that day in the desert, Holden had broken every promise he’d made to the dying man. But today, he’d finally start fulfilling it. Holden would get Faith back, and once she was safe with her mother, he’d protect her any way he could. Charleigh could try to stop him, but Holden was done licking his wounds. He’d been a coward for far too long. Now Faith’s life was in danger and he had to wonder if that was his fault. Had he done everything he’d promised Paul, would Faith be missing?
Fuck, no, she wouldn’t be.
If he hadn’t been such a dumbass, he would’ve checked his ego and made things right with Charleigh, even if right only meant taking care of Faith.
Holden’s eyes came open when his phone shrilled.
Kennedy’s name flashed on the screen.
“Charleigh okay?” Holden asked by way of greeting.
“Holden,” Charleigh breathed.
“Leigh-Leigh, are you—”
“Please find her.”
“I will,” he promised. “We have a lead.”
“I know McKenna’s looking at security tapes from a hotel. I saw her.”
“Saw who?”
“Faith.” The word came out as a whispered sob. “That PI was carrying her.”
Christ Jesus. Why had Micky allowed Charleigh to see that?
“Charleigh, you don’t need to see that. Let Nixon and the guys handle everything. You need to relax. You have a—”
“No. I need to help. Nixon’s not here and McKenna wanted me to ID the guy. He was carrying Faith, but she wasn’t moving. Do you think… oh, god…what if…”
“Stop, baby, don’t do that. I’m gonna go get Faith and bring her home to you, and when I do, she’s gonna be just fine.”
That was a lie. Faith wasn’t going to be okay—she was going to be emotionally traumatized. The poor girl had probably been drugged as well.
“My parents are here,” she moaned and Holden almost cracked a smile.
Charleigh had never had a good, loving relationship with her parents; they were both too domineering for that, her mother especially. The woman always had something to say about appearances and keeping the family in good standing with their country club friends. Holden had found it exhausting but he’d kept his mouth shut because Charleigh loved them.
No longer the dutiful boyfriend who felt the need to make a good impression on the people whom he thought would one day be his in-laws, he felt no such responsibility. He also had nothing to lose.
“I’ll talk to Chasin, he can run interference. Kennedy’s level-headed and she can help.”
“I think Kennedy’s not so level-headed when it comes to my mother,” Charleigh whispered.
That meant Zoe Axelson was behaving badly. Holden gritted his teeth in an effort not to say something that would make the situation worse. Once his jaw started to ache, he unclenched and said, “You do not take on their bullshit, Leigh-Leigh. Use Chasin as a buffer—you know he’ll do anything you ask. Right now, all you need to do is relax so you can recover. I’ll bring Faith to you as soon as I can. But fair warning, when I get there I will not stand for anyone—and that includes your mother—bossing you around and making things worse. I get I’m not her favorite person, but for now, all of that shit will be set aside for Faith.”
“Please, just bring her home.”
“I will, Leigh-Leigh, that’s a promise.”
He heard her suck in a breath and a fresh sob tore through her.
“I’m so scared.”
“Know you are, honey. But you’re surrounded by good, strong people. Use them. Let them keep you solid until I get there.”
“Okay, Holden.”
“Gonna let you go so I can get on the road.” There was a long pause, and as much as Holden didn’t want to rush her, he needed to talk to Jameson and Rhode and make a plan. “Leigh-Leigh?”
“Be safe, Holden. I’ll be waiting.”
His eyelids drifted closed and his heart burned. But before he could respond to her plea, Charleigh was gone.
God, how many times had she whispered those exact words to him before he’d left on an exercise?
Too many to count. But it never got old. It meant she cared, she loved him, and wanted her man to come home to her. And every time he did, she was always waiting.
12
Holden’s hands shook with pent-up aggression.
“Almost,” Jameson muttered from his seat behind the wheel.
They were parked behind the Glen Hotel on the western side of Charlottesville. After a two-and-a-half-hour drive, almost wasn’t good enough. Faith had been away from Charleigh for going on ten hours.
Holden was fresh out of patience, and each minute he had to sit in the car and wait for Nixon’s call felt like he was enduring the worst torture. Faith was so close, yet they couldn’t rush the building. They planned on grabbing the girl without disrupting the hotel guests nor did they want to put Faith in anymore danger than she already was.
Jonny had made some calls to the Albemarle County Sheriff’s Office. The sheriff herself would be meeting them with three deputies to haul Beatrice, Patricia, and Chad in. That was not Holden’s first choice. He wanted to beat the ever-loving fuck out of Chad. He wouldn’t have laid a hand on the women but he would’ve happily landed a verbal smackdown before Rhode called the police to turn them over.
“The sheriff is on her way,” Jameson unnecessarily reminded him. “They’re going in soft. If Faith’s awake, they don’t want to scare her. Rhode and I will cover the back, the deputies will cover the front. You’re going in with Sheriff Knox. Faith’s coming home with us. Just stay calm.”
Holden wanted to remind Jameson he had not been calm when Kennedy had been kidnapped. But that would’ve been an asshole thing to do, so instead, he nodded and stared straight ahead.
A black SUV pulled into the parking lot and Jameson’s phone pinged with a text.
“They’re here. It’s go-time.”
Before Holden could move, Jameson grabbed his bicep. “I mean it, keep your shit. Faith’s gonna be scared, so she needs you calm and collected.”
Unsure if he’d be able to remain calm, Holden turned to look at Jameson.
“Maybe you should be the one to go in.”
“No. It needs to be you.”
Arguing meant wasting time. Time that Faith didn’t have.
Jameson’s phone dinged again and his face went hard. “Chad’s on the move. McKenna’s still monitoring the cameras. Go. We gotta get into position.”
Holden jumped out of the truck and headed toward the sheriff. Jameson went the opposite direction.
“Holden Stanford,” Sheriff Knox greeted.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’ve been briefed,” she continued. “I’ve been told you have a permit to carry but I’m going to ask you to keep your weapon holstered and let me take the lead.”
Nothing about the rescue was going as he wanted. Keeping his weapon holstered meant he was vulnerable, Faith would be unprotected, and he’d have to trust someone he didn’t know. His mind rebelled at the thought, but he still found himself agreeing. He’d do anything that would get him in that hotel room and to Faith faster.
“Ma’am, I will keep my weapon holstered with the caveat that if I feel my life, your life, or Faith’s life is in danger, it comes out.”
“That’ll do,” she sighed. “I have more units on standby. As these things go, I felt a show of presence would endanger the child and other guests.”
“I understand. But you should know, Chad Bullock has left the room.”
The woman’s face went tight and she quickly called in the update to her deputies.
“Let’s head up.”
The walk into the hotel was silent and he was happy for the reprieve. Jameson was right, he needed to find it in himself to remain calm for Faith’s sake. She didn’t need to witness him going gonzo on Beatrice and Patricia. No, Faith needed him steady, in control. He needed to be her safe place until he could get her back to her mother.
The manager met the sheriff in the lobby. They exchanged a few hushed words while Holden scanned the area. No Chad. Where did that fucker go? Finally, the manager handed Sheriff Knox a keycard and the man went back behind the desk. Holden followed behind the sheriff and waited for the elevator. Once they were inside, Sheriff Knox quickly gave Holden a rundown.
“The rooms beside the Towlers have been vacated. Mr. Null called them and upgraded the guests to suites. The rooms across from them are vacant. That doesn’t mean this is a free-for-all, but the rooms are empty.”
Holden bit back his smartass retort, remembering his only objective was rescuing Faith.
“I’ll knock and you stand out of sight. If they don’t answer, the front desk will call and explain there’s a problem with their room and they need to be moved. I don’t want to enter blind. But I will if it comes to that.”
Again, the night was not going how Holden wanted. It would’ve been so much easier to just kick in the door, knock some heads—well, knock one head, zip tie two bitches up—and take Faith. But to end this once and for all, Charleigh needed the Towlers arrested.
“Understood,” Holden acknowledged.
“Mr. Stanford, I’ll get your daughter back.”
Every cell in Holden’s body froze. His daughter? What the hell had Jonny told the sheriff? Old wounds threatened to take him to a place he couldn’t go. If he needed to pretend to be Faith’s dad to get her safely home, he’d do it. The pain that the thought created was secondary to getting into that room.
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