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Got Him

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Got Him

"Be careful," I murmured, propping myself up on my elbows as Vincent gathered his things.

"I will be," he told me, checking his gun over before tucking it into his waistband. "According to Dante, Graham has only been there for a few minutes."

"He has to know we found him."

Vincent's face was grim as he turned to face me. His eyes traced every inch of me he could see. And I knew what he was doing. Reminding himself that the reason I barely had the energy to move was because of Jack. That the reason Alana was gone was because of the man that we had been hunting relentlessly these past weeks.

"I wouldn't doubt it," he finally said, coming to sit next to me on the edge of the bed. He cupped the side of my face in his hand, running his thumb along my cheekbone. "But we'll go in prepared for it to be a trap."

"I don't like not going with you."

"I know." He leaned forward to press a kiss to my temple. "But I'm going to bring him back here. I'll let you know when to head downstairs. You know where the door to the basement is?"

"Yes." A shiver wracked my spine. I had been down there only a handful of times. With the bloodstains that apparently no amount of bleach could wash away, it wasn't my favorite area of the warehouse. How they kept everything so carefully hidden from authorities would never cease to surprise me.

"Good." He turned to leave, but my hand moved without my brain giving it permission to. He stopped, glancing down at where I was clutching his forearm. His features smoothed out, and when he met my gaze, I could see my own worry reflected back at me. He covered my hand with his, squeezing my fingers. "I'm coming back, Juliette. I promise."

"You had better."

The kiss he gave me seared me down to my bones. And then he was gone. Off to corner and capture the bane of our existence.

Once he was gone, an eerie stillness settled over the apartment. It took all of five minutes before I was kicking the blankets off of me and hunting down my clothes. Like hell I'd just sit up here and wait for them. There were things that needed to be set in motion. Prepared. And if the boys were with Vincent, I was going to make sure everything was ready when they returned.

Dexter whined as I struggled to get my boots on. My entire body was stiff, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it. Before I could stand up, Dexter put his big head in my lap. He stared me down, and I could almost feel the refusal to let me leave. My eyes rolled. Two weeks with Vincent, and my dog had completely turned against me.

"I've got to go, Dex," I murmured, scratching him behind the ears. "I'll be home soon."

He whined again but turned and walked out of the room. I could hear him huff as he walked down the stairs.

Drama queen.

A groan heaved out of me as I stood. My first stop was in the master bathroom. I took three pain relievers and crossed my fingers that they would kick in soon. Then I was down the stairs and out the door before I could think too hard about what I was doing.

Brandon's door opened on the second knock.

"Jules, you're supposed to be resting," he scolded.

"Where's Angel?"

"She two doors down on the right," Devyn said before Brandon could open his mouth again. She shouldered her way past him, and he grunted when her elbow caught him in the gut. "Are you okay?"