The Tracker Page 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Jessica

  I held Tracker’s rose against my chest for a long moment, then decided to go find him. The clock on the nightstand said 11:47 p.m. It was almost midnight. I still had the small handgun Tracker had let me use before. I stuffed it in the front of my pants and stepped out into the corridor.

  Muffled voices came from down the hall. From the workout room. I paused outside of the room and listened. They were planning to go rescue Gordon now. Risking their lives. They might be doing it for Gordon, but they were doing it because of me, because I’d come here asking Tracker to find Eliza. And I’d insisted on going with them when they’d gone to Gunner’s lair. If anyone else was injured or killed—it would be on me.

  I decided in that moment that I was going with them. I was going to help in any way that I could. I was going to find out who had my sister and I was going to get her back.

  I quickly slipped down the corridor and headed for the surface, wanting to beat them to the garage. They wouldn’t let me go willingly, but if I snuck inside a vehicle, they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it unless they spotted me before we got there.

  My “photographic” memory came in handy now, helping me make my way through the maze to the surface. I shivered as the ghosts hovered around me, their souls tortured and howling with their pain. I wasn’t afraid of them. They couldn’t hurt me. They were dead.

  I reached the garage and punched in the code I’d memorized the day I’d watched Tracker entering it. The door opened and I darted inside. I smacked the button that closed it, then moved across the dark garage, wondering which vehicle would be the easiest to sneak inside without detection. Which car would they take? If they were all going, they would need at least two or three cars. The Escalade seemed the most likely, as it could hold the most passengers. I just had to get inside without detection.

  I checked the doors, but they were locked. So, I crawled underneath the back of the Escalade and waited.

  Less than five minutes passed before the garage door opened and the dregs entered the building. The Escalade beeped, its lights flashing as Nate unlocked it with the key fob. The hatch rose up, also from the key fob. Feet approached. The doors opened. People climbed inside. Doors closed. Engines roared to life around me.

  Feet paused near the back of the Escalade as someone set something inside. The feet moved away, heading for the front of the vehicle. I scrambled out from beneath the Escalade and launched myself in the back just as the hatchback began to close.

  There was a soft click.

  And I was inside.

  Nate started the engine.

  I held my breath, making myself as small as I could in between all the weapons that they’d tossed into the back. I was surrounded by guns and ammunition, grenades and knives. They were ready for a war.

  No one spoke for several moments. Then, as they headed out of the garage, they began to talk about the upcoming rescue. I recognized Nate’s voice, of course. It was his Escalade. And Tony’s slightly accented voice that was laced with his typical underlying anger and hatred at the world. Two other voices joined the conversation. Noah and Logan, I suspected. Which meant Tracker was probably on his Ducati. Or riding with Jacob or Luke or Ryan.

  They grew silent then, lost in their own thoughts, probably thinking about what was going to happen when they arrived at Gunner’s place.

  After a while, I began to doze off, the car’s motion sending me into sleepiness.

  “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  The loud voice jerked me awake. I opened my eyes, staring at two angry faces that peered over the seat at me.

  Oh crap.

  “Uh, Nate, we’ve got a stowaway,” Noah muttered, turning away from me. “Tracker’s gonna be pissed.”

  Logan quirked a brow at me, but he didn’t say anything.

  Now that they’d discovered me, I couldn’t hide anymore. I sat up slowly and met Nate’s gaze in the rearview mirror. His stare was hard. Angry.

  Tony let out a fierce growl from the front passenger’s seat. “Pull over and toss the bitch out. She’s a liability.”

  I flicked my gaze to Tony. “I’m not a liability. And I’m not a bitch.”

  Tony’s black gaze bored into mine. I fought the urge to flinch and look away. Cowering in front of this man would only confirm his belief that I was a useless female.

  Nate sighed loudly. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, muttering an angry curse. “Jessica, I should pull over and toss you out, but Tracker would never forgive me if I did.”

  Tony jerked his scowling gaze to Nate. “Seriously? You’re worried about what Tracker thinks right now? Just get rid of her!” He pulled his furious black gaze back to me, his expression filled with contempt.

  I swallowed hard and met Tony’s glare. “I’m going there to get my sister back. I’ll stay out of your way. I won’t hinder you. You won’t even know I’m there.”

  Tony turned away, muttering, “Puta perra.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but I knew it wasn’t flattering. I had a feeling he’d called me a bitch again—or something worse.

  “Fine,” Nate said at last. “We’re almost there anyway. Just stay out of our way or I guarantee one of us will exterminate you. And don’t let Tracker see you. If he does, he won’t be able to concentrate, and it could fuck up the mission. It could get him, or one of us, killed.”

  “No manches!” Tony snarled, turning to stare out the window. “Un-fucking believable.”

  Noah and Logan exchanged glances, but they made no effort to join the conversation.

  Everyone grew quiet.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, Nate brought the Escalade to a stop at the military barricade just outside of the city. I peered through the front window and spied Tracker talking to the guards.

  “I hope they don’t try to stop us,” Nate murmured.

  “They won’t,” I assured him and the others. “They told Tracker their superiors warned them to not engage with you guys in any way.”

  Everyone exchanged glances. “That’s interesting,” Noah said. “Why wouldn’t they just kill us?”

  “Because they’re scared of the dregs,” I informed them. “Their superiors told them to just let you pass by.”

  Tony let out a snort. No one else made a sound.

  The guards waved Tracker through and then we pulled forward after him.

  We were inside the city.

  Several minutes later Nate parked the vehicle in the parking lot next to Tracker’s Ducati. Gordon’s purple Harley was nowhere to be seen, so the people who had him must have taken his bike. I ducked down so Tracker wouldn’t see me and remained hidden while the dregs climbed out of the vehicle and gathered their weapons. Nate paused for moment with the hatchback open, blocking me from Tracker’s view and blocking my view of Tracker.

  “Get out now,” he whispered, “before Tracker sees you.” He strode away, lifting the key fob to show me he was about to close it.

  I leapt out of the vehicle, diving for the ground, and scrambled behind the back tire. The hatchback closed and the dregs snuck away, heading for the building.

  Leaving me alone.

  A military patrol passed by on the street, but no one else was about.

  I waited where I was for several moments, trying to gather my courage and figure out what I was going to do now. I needed the name of the man Gunner had sold Eliza to. How could I get it? Someone here had to know, right?

  I rose from my hiding place and headed for the front of the building. I didn’t see the dregs anywhere. I made it inside without incident. The stairwell that had been filled with transients and addicts the last time I was here was now empty of people. I headed up the stairs, quietly, cautiously. Second floor. A few bodies lay here and there. Third. More bodies. Fourth. Even more bodies, but still no sign of the dregs. They’d taken out everyone who’d crossed their path as they’d climbed up the stairs. Where were they?

  Gunfire from s
omewhere above answered my question. I halted, my heart thundering loudly in my ears. Then I rushed upward, continuing on up the stairs as fast as I could, dodging the fresh bodies and the blood that was splattered everywhere.

  More gunshots. Explosions. People screaming. Was Eliza up there somewhere? If so, I vowed I would find her.

  I kept climbing. And climbing. My heart racing at the exertion, my lungs nearly bursting from the strain.

  At last, I reached the eighth floor. More bodies lay out in the stairwell, others lined the hallway. I spotted two men crouched low with weapons drawn just outside of an open doorway. Tony and Nate. Where were the other dregs?

  Tony’s gaze flickered to me. He muttered something under his breath.

  I hurried forward, pausing next to him, ignoring his glare. I peered into the apartment. I spied Luke and Ryan crouching at opposite ends of the room with smoking guns in their hands. I snuck past Tony and through the open door before he could stop me. He whispered something to Nate behind me, but I was too focused ahead of me to pay attention to him.

  Luke and Ryan both lowered their guns as I slipped into the room.

  More bodies littered the apartment around me. I spied Gunner’s body, half-in, half-out of his recliner. There was a hole in the center of his forehead. Good riddance. Asshole. I let my gaze sweep the room again. There was blood everywhere. I moved forward, pausing to glance at each face, somehow keeping my horror at bay, but I didn’t see Eliza anywhere.

  “Clear!” Luke shouted.

  An answering, “Clear!” came from down the hallway. It sounded like Logan.

  Fighting sounds came from the other end of the apartment, farther away. Was that where Tracker was? I headed down a long hallway, pausing to look into each room, checking for Eliza. The first room contained only bodies or injured people. None of them Eliza. I caught a glimpse of Logan and Noah farther down the hallway, kicking doors open and entering rooms. Leaving them to do what they did best, I peered into the second room.

  I gasped. Gordon lay on the floor, his torso covered in blood. Other bodies lay around him, some moaning, others already dead.

  My heart squeezed.

  Oh no! No, no, no! This wasn’t supposed to happen!

  I rushed forward and knelt beside him, taking his big hand in mine. Gunshots came from the other end of the apartment. Fighting sounds. Grunts. Groans. Thuds.

  Gordon’s eyes flickered open, his gaze slowly focusing on me. “Jessica,” he murmured. “Does Tracker know you’re here?”

  “No. I snuck inside Nate’s Escalade.”

  He coughed, blood spurting from his lips. “Smart girl.” He chuckled softly. He closed his eyes again. His breathing slowed. “Gunner figured out we’d played him. He shot me.”

  My breath hitched. I squeezed his hand tighter. “Stay with me, Gordon. Please.” A sob slipped out. “You shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself like this. It will kill Tracker if he loses you. I should have stayed instead of you.”

  Gordon opened his eyes. “No. They would have sold you, just like they did your sister. I did it for Tracker. So he could be happy with you. I promised to protect you, and I did.” He closed his eyes again. Coughed some more. Then he whispered, “I know the name of the man who has your sister. Enrique Vasquez. He runs a Mexican gang. I can’t remember the name of it. Tell Tracker and he’ll find your sister.” He coughed again, opening his eyes. “Remember what I said. If you love him, then stay beside him no matter what. Be there for him. I know…” He closed his eyes again, wheezed in a breath. “I know you’ve been with him. I felt…his happiness. Good for you, girl.”

  Embarrassed heat swept over me. He knew?

  His breathing grew raspy. He was fading fast.

  Another sob burst out of me. I squeezed his hand hard, willing him to open his eyes again. Willing him to be okay. A tear trickled down my cheek. Then another. This was my fault.

  I sensed movement behind me and jerked my head around as Tony entered the room. He stepped around Gordon and knelt opposite me, taking Gordon’s other hand and squeezing it tightly.

  Gordon’s eyes popped open. “Tony.” He coughed up more blood. “Hey, man.”

  “Fuck. Hang on, Gor. We’ll get you out of here.” Tony’s voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. He closed his eyes and muttered something over and over in Spanish. A prayer?

  I considered him with new awareness as realization clicked. He did have feelings. He might be a complete asshole to me, but he cared about Gordon. That made him human, after all. For some reason, that made my chest tighten even more.

  Tony swallowed hard and opened his eyes. “Nate!” he shouted, sounding as desperate as I felt. “In here!”

  Gordon’s eyes flickered open, then closed, but he didn’t speak. His breathing slowed even more until his chest finally stopped moving. Tony gripped his hand tighter. “Fuck.”

  And as I knelt there across from Tony, and Gordon slipped away from us, we connected, bonded in a way I’d never believed possible: our shared loss of someone we both cared for. I didn’t know Gordon nearly as well as Tony did, but I’d still witnessed the kindness in him, the goodness. He was Tracker’s best friend. I would miss him. So much. The tears fell in earnest now. I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t bother trying to. I couldn’t let Gordon’s hand go, even after I knew he was gone. I didn’t want to admit he was dead. An unbearable heaviness, a painful ache filled my chest.

  This was my fault. I’d done this. I’d killed Tracker’s best friend. Tracker would never forgive me for this. None of the dregs would. I would certainly never forgive myself.

  Tony cleared his throat and rose just as Nate rushed into the room with Luke and Ryan behind him. Tony’s gaze darted to mine. For the first time, I witnessed emotion swirling in his black eyes. Pain.

  He shook his head at Nate, then turned away and left the room without a word.

  I swallowed hard, forcing my emotions under control. I knew what I had to do.

  I let go of Gordon’s hand and gently rested it on his massive chest. I kissed his cheek in a final farewell. Then I rose to my feet and moved past Nate and the others without looking at them.

  I had to get my sister back. On my own.

  I wouldn’t endanger Tracker or any more of the dregs. I couldn’t have any more deaths on my conscience.

  This was my mission now.

  And I was going hunting for a man named Enrique Vasquez.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Tracker

  Gone. My best friend was gone.

  I stared at Gordon’s body, a sense of failure slamming into me hard. I’d failed him. He was dead because of me. Coldness swept through me, ice wrapping around my heart.

  We’d cleaned the place out, killing everyone we saw. Luke had dispatched Gunner before I’d gotten a chance to question him. Now I had no idea who had Jessica’s sister.

  Bodies littered the floor around us, the war now over. We hadn’t left a single person alive. Male. Female. Thug. Prostitute. They were all dead.

  And Gordon was gone.

  I dropped to the floor and knelt over Gordon’s body. My partner was dead. Emotion crawled up my throat, trying to strangle me. I swallowed hard, forcing it back down. I couldn’t lose it in front of the others. They would think I was weak. I had felt Gordon’s pain as I’d snuck through the fire escape window with Jacob. I had known Gordon was injured, but I’d hoped—prayed—we’d get to him in time. By the time Jacob and I had made our way through the back of the penthouse and down the hallway to this room, slaughtering everyone we came into contact with, Gordon was already dead. The other dregs had gone through the front, eliminating the threats from the stairwell and the living room and kitchen areas.

  Grief hit me with a rush, slamming over me with the force of a Tsunami. I gasped. My chest squeezed. Hard.

  A hand clasped my shoulder.

  Nate sighed. “Sorry, man.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. The other dregs came up behind me.

 
; “Gunner’s dead,” Luke reminded gently. “We avenged Gordon’s death.”

  The others murmured their agreement.

  I let out a soft snort of disgust. Didn’t they get that my partner was gone? He’d never ride by my side ever again. He’d never spar with me on those nights when I was restless and needed a release. He’d never be there for me when I needed someone to talk to. Without Gordon, I truly had no one.

  You have Jess now, a voice whispered in my head.

  I had left Jessica asleep in my bed earlier when I’d gone to discuss the rescue mission with the other dregs. I hadn’t wanted to leave her. Hell, I had wanted to stay with her and hold her all night long. She completely consumed me. What had happened between us had been more than just sex and I was smart enough to admit that. I’d found an amazing woman that I never wanted to let go. A happiness had filled my chest, a fullness I’d never experienced before. But that happiness was gone now. Gordon was dead.

  Jacob stepped forward and knelt beside me, his hand on my arm. “I know what it’s like to lose your partner,” he said in that deep, raspy voice. “If you need someone to talk to…” he broke off and looked away, shrugging.

  I nodded my thanks, but I didn’t look up. I was too emotional right now. I couldn’t look at any of them.

  Jacob patted my shoulder awkwardly and rose.

  I needed Jess. Needed her arms around me. Needed her soft, comforting touch. Needed to hold her close. Needed to know I wasn’t as alone as I felt right now. I needed her, so damn much.

  An uncomfortable silence fell. Feet shifted. I sensed glances being exchanged. What was going on?

  I got control of myself and glanced up, my gaze darting from one dreg to the next.

  “Spill it,” I growled at no one in particular. “What do you guys know that I don’t?”

  Nate cleared his throat. “Jessica stowed away in the back of the Escalade. When we found out she was back there, we were almost here, so we let her ride the rest of the way. We told her to stay back out to the way.”

  I lunged to my feet and advanced on Nate. No fucking way…

  Tony, Luke, and Ryan all moved in front of me, blocking my path.