She lay there, trying to breathe through the pain. She tasted blood in her mouth. Great. Just great.
She opened her eyes and glared up at Harold. So help me. She was getting damned sick of pissed-off men backhanding her. First Drew and now this nutcase.
"Shut up or I'll kill you." The gun was leveled at her head as Harold Brockheim stared down at her with malevolent fury. "Do you hear me, you little tramp? I'll f**king kill you."
He couldn't find her. Chase searched the ballroom, dining room, the lobby, and sent Jaci and Courtney into the ladies' room.
He had the phone to his ear, a three-way call between him, Cameron, and Khalid, with Khalid linking Ian in.
"She's not here!" He stared around the lobby. He'd questioned everyone there. No one had seen her. "She wouldn't have left the hotel."
"I'm going to the reservation desk," Khalid snapped. "Their security cameras are accessible by the manager's office. Perhaps I can find something there."
"Cameron, did you check the other ballroom?" Chase was desperate, frantic.
"We've checked every room, Chase," Cameron said.
Chase hit the redial on the cell phone Courtney had handed him earlier and waited as Kia's cell phone rang. And rang.
"Is there any way to get a GPS on her phone?" he asked.
"Detective Allen is on his way. He'll be able to do that," Ian stated. "Hold on, Chase."
Hold on, my ass. He stared around the lobby, despair tearing through him, his guts cramping with it. He had promised to take care of her. Swore no one would hurt her, swore he would watch her back.
"There you are!" Drew Stanton was striding across the lobby and he was furious. "What the hell are you doing letting Kia escort Harold Brockheim upstairs for? Son of a bitch, Chase!"
Chase dropped the phone in his pocket and grabbed the lapels of Drew's jacket. "Where the hell is she?"
"Let me go!"
"Answer me, Stanton." Chase shook him, enraged. "Where did you see her and Brockheim? The bastard is going to kill her, and if he does, I'll kill you."
The color left Drew's face. "The elevator." His voice shook. "She got on the middle elevator with him and went up."
Chase turned toward the elevators.
"Chase!" Khalid was moving quickly across the lobby, his black hair flying back from his face. "Did you reserve a room here?"
"Which room?"
"Twenty-seven forty-two," Khalid answered. "Your reservation is on the books. The security monitors have been blown, and security hasn't managed to fix them yet."
All three men raced into an elevator. Chase punched in the floor, sweat dampening his spine as the elevator began its ascent. The elevators here were fast, but they were still too damned slow.
"What the hell is going on with Brockheim?" Drew said beside him. "Hell, he's been on his deathbed since Moriah's death."
"Evidently he wants f**king company," Chase snarled.
Brockheim couldn't know they were on to him at this point, or that they knew the room he was in. It was only by chance that Khalid had checked room reservations. They had an advantage, a slight one, nothing more.
"Tell me what to do, Chase," Drew said. "Tell me what the hell is going on."
"Brockheim is insane," Chase snapped. "He's taken Kia because he blames me and Cameron for Moriah's death. He has Kia." He whispered the words.
God, he hadn't even told her he loved her yet. How the hell was he going to live if anything happened to her?
"Tell me what to do," Drew rasped.
Chase slammed him against the wall, the sides of his coat gripped in his hands again. "Fuck me over and I'll kill you," he raged in Drew's face. "Do you hear me? If she's hurt because you f**ked up, I'll take your damned face off."
Drew glared back at him. "Save the f**king threats and tell me what the hell you need me to do."
Chase jerked his backup weapon from his ankle holster and slapped it into Drew's hand. "Stay ready. Nothing matters but keeping Kia alive. Do you understand me?"
Drew stared at the weapon, then back to Chase, and Chase saw understanding in Drew's eyes.
"I might not have treated her right, Chase, but I still care for her."
"She's mine!"
Drew's nod was jerky. "But she used to be mine, and I still care for her. I'll protect her."
Chase let it go at that. Kia had never belonged to Drew and the son of a bitch should have enough sense to know it. If he'd had a lick of sense when he was married to her he wouldn't be in the position he was in now.
And Chase could only thank God that Stanton had been a royal f**kup during his marriage. Because Chase had ached for her like hell on fire for far too many years to keep doing without her.
He liked to think he would never interfere in a marriage, that he would have abided by the rules he signed on to with the club. But a part of him knew that, eventually, he would have had to leave or make that fatal move. Because even before her divorce, the need for her ate into him like a painful disease.
The elevator doors slid open. Weapon held close to his side, Chase went out first, followed by Khalid and Drew. Exchanging silent hand signals they edged along the wall, heading to the room Brockheim had taken.
Khalid held a hand up for them to stop as he plucked his phone from his pocket and flipped it open. His eyes narrowed as he listened. Turning back to Chase he mouthed Cameron and Ian coming up the stairs. He pointed to the stairwell.
Chase nodded. They weren't far from the door. Khalid had the coded key to it, but slipping in and gaining the advantage would be the trick.
Harold was old; he was insane. He had to mess up somewhere.
Chase had to get the advantage. Kia's life was hanging in the balance, and God knows, he didn't think he could live without her now.
"Get on your phone and call your lover," Harold spat out at her as she glared at him from the floor.
That one wasn't going to happen. She'd felt the phone vibrate and knew Chase was calling. She couldn't—wouldn't—allow him to die for her.
"Call him yourself."
Kia cried out in pain as Harold Brockheim reached down, grabbed her arm, and hauled her to her feet.
"Is this how you treated your daughter?" she cried out. "It's no wonder she lost her mind."