Take - Page 94

“Whoever is coming with me, grab a weapon.” I pulled out a rifle.

“Reath.”

At Dante’s voice, I looked up. My brothers all stood in a row.

“We’re all coming,” Dante said. “We’re helping you bring Frankie home.”

My throat felt tight. “Then let’s move.”

I charged through the side door of the warehouse, my weapon up. Beau was right beside me.

We moved fast, working in sync.

We went down a row of half assembled floats, searching for Frankie.

“There are lights on over there,” Beau murmured. “Back corner.”

I nodded and changed direction. I knew that Dante, Kavner and Colt were coming in from the other end of the warehouse.

There was no sound. Nothing.

I turned a corner. Hold on, Frankie.

Suddenly, music started. I spun. Beau and I whipped our guns up.

Lights blinked on one of the floats, music pumping from it.

My brothers appeared.

“Turn that off,” I gritted out.

No doubt another of Auclair’s games. I moved toward the lights. Then my chest constricted.

The lights were illuminating an empty chair.

And the body of a man on the ground.

She wasn’t here.

I lowered my weapon and struggled to control the emotions fighting inside me.

“Dammit,” Dante muttered behind me.

I strode forward. I stared dispassionately at Trent Weare’s dead body. The bastard had killed Axe and abducted Frankie. I couldn’t dredge up much sympathy. “It’s Weare.”

“Not how he expected this to end,” Beau said.

“You can’t trust a man like Auclair.”

I studied the ropes tied to the arms of the chair. They were hanging loose, and I saw blood on one.

She’d struggled so much to get free that she’d bled.

“Look,” Colt said.

There was a polaroid photo and a voice recorder resting on the chair.

I picked up the photo. It was the same as the one Auclair had sent to my phone. My Frankie, defiant and brave.