Unethical, maybe? He didn’t care.
Returning a woman to a violent husband was even more unethical, so his current plan trumped that idea.
Carson had a feeling that Elon, the religious freak, was the worst kind of violent husband, one who hid behind the cloth. Damn it, his blood pumped just thinking about it.
The second the plane touched down, Carson was out of his first-class seat, rushing the door to get out while turning on his phone. As soon as the thing powered up, it started to vibrate with messages. What the fuck?
Asher? Strange…why would he call me now?
Carson pressed the LISTEN TO MESSAGE button immediately as the plane’s door finally opened and he made his way up the Jetway. When he heard the agony in Asher’s roar, his stomach dropped out from under him.
Carson, dude. I’m sick to leave a message about this but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t even know if I should trust you to tell you this, but fuck, if you’re at all involved, know this. We’re on to you, and if not, you got to know. Sienna is missing. MISSING! I spent the night at Natalie’s after you and I talked at the bar. I thought you were at Sienna’s so it would be okay, but this morning when I got back home, Sienna’s door was ajar and a few things were broken in her place. Doesn’t feel right to me. Jesus, my Sienna is GONE!
Staring at this phone, trying to collect his thoughts and contain his emotions, Carson saw a number of texts from Asher and Mike, basically relaying the same information as the voice message from Asher.
Once inside the concourse, the big, bad PI stood back and pressed his weight into a wall, attempting to cage and contain himself from throwing a full-on rage in the middle of a very public place.
Carson ran his hand through his short hair, the same hair Lila had run her fingers through the day before. He tried to make sense of the whole fucking mess while trying not to be consumed by waves of loss. His entire being felt empty and cold.
Sam Charles. It had to be him. Carson had misread who he actually was, and the serious ramifications of his underestimating him was hitting home like a ton of bricks. Carson just knew that fuckface had his gorgeous and innocent Lila, and was doing God only knew what with her.
Needing to vent, he turned and slammed the toe of his boot against the wall, which earned him a few concerned glances from passersby, but he ignored them. He was going to murder the asshole with his own two hands.
Carson needed to regroup. He no longer needed to rush back to Lila and make her safe. Because Lila wasn’t safe, and she wasn’t there.
Now more than ever, he needed to rid himself of the case and fast, so he could find Lila before the worst happened. He stalked toward to the rental car desk like a madman with zero regard for anyone who dared cross his path.
Little did he know that while he was flying in first class, the woman he never thought he wanted or deserved was probably being kidnapped by someone he had dismissed as being irrelevant.
And it was all his fault.
CARSON’S NEED to find Lila was as basic as taking his next breath. Obviously, he had to call in more favors from Ray in order to get his hands on some quick information. Time was of the essence, and he had to operate on all cylinders.
With a few keystrokes on his phone, he had his old FBI buddy pulling flight records, pictures from toll booth cameras, and everything there was to know about Sam Charles, right down to his tax forms and birthmarks on his body.
Jumping into a rental car he had waiting for him, Carson drove straight to Brooklyn to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with Lila’s family, and then he was going to hunt down Elon while he waited for the information on Charles.
As for his mood, he was trying to steel himself against reality. Gripping the steering wheel as if it were the bastard’s neck, he imagined choking the life out of Elon.
Was there the possibility Lila had left of her own volition? The damage in her house certainly didn’t suggest her leaving on her own. Which meant she could be hurt, dead, or being tortured at that very moment. Carson’s mind was running wild with horrible thoughts, and he knew if he was to be effective in finding her, he had to stop those thoughts and make better use of his energy.
He pulled himself together, using focusing techniques he’d learned in the academy and during training. If he allowed himself to get overly emotional, he would make things worse, possibly screwing up the entire situation. He took long, overly deep breaths, dragging the oxygen in, then forcing the carbon dioxide out, eventually controlling his ability to take air in and out of his lungs.
Christ, where was Lila? Now it was even more imperative to question the family for more information, and get a read on the asshole husband who’d showed up out of the blue.