Fuck.
He turned and punched the wall.
Fuck.
The soul chilling look of Izzy’s fear now burned into his brain terrorized him.
“We gotta call the cops, dude. They just took her.”
Houston methodically locked down his rising panic, shutting it behind the cold wall that made him such an effective killer. He pasted a convincing smile on his face and turned to the guard. “Nah, I was wrong. Not her stalker after all. As it turns out one of those guys was her brother and I’m guessing her family disagrees with her choice of groom.”
“No shit? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. She’ll be back. Right after she tears him a new one.”
“Oh, thank God. I thought she was kidnapped. That would have been some shit.”
That was shit all right.
Epic FUCKING shit.
Chapter Ten
Houston
Houston ran to his bike, ignoring the emotion tearing through his gut. He needed to stop thinking about Izzy as his princess and start working through the problem like a mission. He was trained to acquire and take down these kind of people before shit went bad. That’s exactly what he’d do here. First he needed some intel and there was only one way he knew how to get it.
By the time he made it to the garage, he had his gear strapped to his back and his shit together. He straddled the bike and stabbed his key into the ignition. The bike roared to life and he raced out onto the street, forcing himself to turn in the opposite direction the van had taken. Too much time passed, searching blind would be a waste at this point. Without eyes in the sky and a concrete description of the van he didn’t have a chance in hell.
Even in warrior mode his muscles coiled tight and the frustration of losing her from right under his nose still rankled him. He had to fight the urge to do something violent. The whole thing was stupid. The initial attraction made sense, and there was no denying the sex was off the charts hot. But it should have ended there. It certainly would have the minute she told him she was really Isabella Mazzeo.
Images of her sitting on his bed, listening to him tell his story filled his head. The way her eyes lit up when something excited her or the compassion she’d shown over the not so good parts. He didn’t know how to connect that with the fact she was a Mazzeo, one of the most dangerous organized crime families on the west coast.
The urge to protect her from her own family gripped him, making him ride faster. Tonight there would be no comfort from the open road. He had to find her, whatever the cost. Then whatever secrets she harbored would be laid out on the table and dealt with. Whatever it was.
As long as she was safe.
Less than two hours later and after a shit ton of traffic laws had been broken, Houston rode into the Wrath compound. Back in Seattle he made the split second decision to turn to the only people he knew who would have insider info on her family and spent the entire ride home cursing life for putting him in this situation.
Wrath getting into Mazzeo family business would require a huge payment on his part or no go. He didn’t have enough money for that kind of service but he did have something they wanted. Him.
He killed the engine and hooked his helmet on the handlebar.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” Axel and two other men he didn’t recognize came out of the Wrath headquarters, which was a behemoth of a building that used to be a local saw mill. “What brings you back here so soon? You were pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with us.”
There was more than a little annoyance in his friend’s voice and the two guys with him looked surly at best.
“I need your help.”
Axel raised a brow. “You shitting me?”
“No. I am not shitting you. I have a serious problem and I need help. I don’t have much money to hire you, but whatever it takes, whatever you want I’ll do it.”
That brought a slight smile to his old friend’s face.
“Anything?” he asked. “Well, come on then. By all means lets go in the office and you can discuss what you need with JD. I’m guessing it’s pretty bad for you to drag your ass in here.”
Houston followed them in, not all together surprised that the main gathering room hadn’t changed much in a decade. Other than a few new pieces of furniture and a sweet sixty-inch television hanging on the wall, everything else had stayed the same. A strong sense of nostalgia washed over him and soothed some of the rougher emotions he’d been dealing with.
The grainy image of Izzy being thrown inside the van outside the hotel kept flashing before his eyes. And with so little intel to go on he had nowhere to funnel his growing rage.
“How about a drink?” Axel pointed to one of the guys Houston didn’t know. “Zook get us some fucking beers and bring them in the office.”