“Knife,” he growled.
Ryker didn’t hesitate, his hand went to his belt, he popped the button on his huge-ass knife, yanked it out and handed it over.
Layne opened his door, ordering, “Stay here.”
He jogged quickly to the Mazda, motioning with flicks of his fingers, communicating to Cal. Cal nodded through his windscreen and passed the Suburban.
Layne didn’t watch to see where Cal went. He crouched by the back tire, thrusting Ryker’s knife into the rubber. He moved forward and took out the front tire. He jogged around the car and did the same to the other side. Then he jogged back to his truck.
He swung in, handed the knife to Ryker, pulled out his cell, put the car in gear, released the brake, located the pedestrian entryway to the garage and scanned for a spot with good visibility all at the same time he scrolled on his phone.
He hit go and put it to his ear.
“Yo,” Merry said quietly.
“You at The Townsend?” Layne asked, seeing his spot, he started maneuvering the behemoth to reverse in while still talking.
“Yes, just got here. This is it, brother. Management says three weeks ago they had an unusual reservation. One day, big money, an entire floor of suites cleared. They had to juggle but they did it. I’m in the security room, they have cameras on the halls. She’s got sentries. Two at the elevators. One outside each room. Three rooms. Two at the emergency exit. The hotel was told it was a VIP with stringent security and that they needed confidentiality and discretion which the hotel assured them they could provide. So we got seven boys, from what I can see by the bulges in their jackets, heavily armed. We don’t know if there are more in the rooms and the hotel didn’t clock them, considering the promise of discretion and all. IMPD is pulling together a team to take the top without collateral damage.”
“Three rooms?” Layne asked as he put the truck in neutral, set the brake and killed the ignition.
“Not good news, brother,” Merry answered and Layne’s neck got tight.
“What?”
“Wherever Tiffany went, she took her sister with her. She’s thirteen, Tanner.”
Jesus, Jesus, fuck.
He didn’t want to ask with Ryker at his side but he had to ask.
“Have the parties started?”
“Ryker with you?” Merry asked back.
“Yeah,” Layne answered.
“Then I’m not answering that question right now,” Merry replied.
Layne clenched his teeth and his chest seized. Alexis McGraw had been to his house. Ryker and Lissa sat with Layne and Rocky at the dining room table drinking beer and shooting the shit while Alexis and Seth, Keira and Jasper and Tripp and Giselle all lounged on the sectional, doing kid shit. Alexis was chock full of attitude, the good kind, though it had an edge, but underneath that, she was a sweet kid.
“You got eyes on her?” Layne asked.
Merry knew what Layne was asking. “Plainclothes everywhere, big man, but no one has seen Towers. Maybe she’s in one of the rooms. They’re scanning security footage now to see if she’s entered the hotel.”
“She’s somewhere. I have eyes on her car. A red Mazda, in the parking garage, not the hotel’s, across the street and just south. I’ve disabled the car. We’re on the third floor.”
“I’ll call that in.”
“Merry, she’s not getting away,” Layne warned.
“You make a mess, Tanner, I’ll clean it up,” Merry replied.
Layne heard the disconnect and flipped his phone closed.
“Tell me,” Ryker whispered and his tone was the tone of a man broken.
Layne’s eyes went to him.
“Don’t make me sorry you’re at my side,” Layne warned softly. Ryker stared at him and the air in the cab became suffocating. “I’ll blow this to take you out,” Layne whispered. “Do not mistake me, Ryker, I’ll do what I have to do to keep you safe so you can take care of her because, brother, she needs you now. Do not fuck this up.”
Ryker’s breathing started to get visibly heavy, his huge chest moving with it.
“I can’t lock this down, bro,” he whispered.
“Yes you can.”
“No, Tanner.”
“Focus, brother.”
“Lexie,” he whispered.
“Focus,” Layne clipped.
“I can’t.”
“Be her hero, Ryker. Do not make her and her mother lose more than they’ve already lost today.”
They held eyes and Ryker kept breathing heavy.
“Deep, Ryker, breathe deep, not shallow, suck in air, lock it down,” Layne urged.
Ryker nodded and took in a deep breath, turned to face front, his eyes locked on the Mazda and his fists curled on his thighs.
Layne let out a breath, leaned over, pulled down the door to the glove compartment and yanked out his .38.
“She goes to the car, I go in, you call Merry. Cal provides cover. You’re last resort. You got that?”
“What if she isn’t alone?”
“Then you provide cover too, you got your .45?” he asked even though he knew. Ryker didn’t go anywhere without his .45.
Ryker leaned forward and yanked out his .45. Then he nodded to Layne.
“This is not a shoot first and ask questions later, deal, Ryker. We are not officers of the law. We’re skatin’ on thin ice here, only so much Merry can cover for us. This is an incapacitate and incarcerate deal, yeah?” Layne ordered.
Ryker nodded again.
Layne called Cal.
“Yo,” Cal answered. “I’m guessin’ the Mazda is important.”
“It’s hers. You got eyes on it?”
“Yep.”
“She approaches, I go in, you and Ryker are cover. Do you have a gun or do you need me to get you one?”
“My wife was kidnapped and nearly shot in the head, man. I got guns everywhere.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Good call since it was a yes.”
“Right, we’re done,” Layne stated and flipped his phone closed.
Then he reached up, turned off the interior cab light, pulled the keys out of the ignition, tossed them to Ryker who caught them and his eyes went to the door to the stairs.
Layne was right, she felt the heat. They didn’t wait five minutes before the door to the stairs opened and Nicolette Towers showed, wearing sick fuck, underage gang rape party hostess gear of fancy-ass dress and spike heels, her hair out to there, her face made up to perfection. She had a bodyguard but, thank Christ, only one.
Ryker flipped open his phone and Layne didn’t look at him. He opened his door, slid around it, didn’t close it and then ran quickly and silently, moving behind parked vehicles, keeping his eyes on Towers and her goon.
They were walking swiftly but engaged in intense conversation which was a mistake. At least the bodyguard should be vigilant. They must have clocked the intensity of the operation gearing up inside the hotel. She looked pissed. He looked tweaked.
Layne slid up the side of a Pathfinder, positioning at the hood. They were walking toward him. He bent with his body behind the vehicle, his gun aimed, arms resting on the hood.
“Hands where I can see them,” he barked when they were two cars away from the Mazda.
The goon didn’t hesitate. He yanked a weapon out of his shoulder holster and started firing. Towers dashed to the Mazda.
Bullets slammed into the Pathfinder and ricocheted off, Layne returned fire almost blind then ducked. More fire coming his way but also from Cal shooting from the opposite direction.
The Pathfinder stopped taking hits and Layne bolted up, the goon was turned, returning Cal’s fire. Layne aimed and fired, connected a bullet to his calf and the guy went down to his knee. Cal kept shooting and more gunfire entered play. Ryker had made his call and was in the game.
The Mazda reversed out of the spot, Towers cutting the wheel, riding the rims. She either didn’t know or didn’t care her man was down behind her because the Mazda slammed right into him. Layne wasn’t in the position to see how she got him but he heard his howl of agony. She shifted into first and Layne moved out of cover, hunkered down and launched himself on the hood of her car.