But before he could open his mouth, his phone rang in his hand. He looked at the display and felt his brows draw together at a number that was local but one he didn’t know.

His gaze went through the room, he muttered, “Somethin’s up but hang on.” He flipped his phone open, put it to his ear and greeted, “Yo.”

“Ty?” He heard a familiar voice that made his blood run cold. “Sorry to bug you but I called Lexie’s cell and at home, no answer. She hasn’t come into work yet. Half an hour late. This isn’t like her. Is something up? Is she unwell?”

Dominic.

Lexie hadn’t gone to work yet.

Shift was FTA.

Peña was delivered last rites.

All the air in Ty’s lungs squeezed out, leaving his body void of oxygen.

Without answering and saying not one word, he flipped his phone shut and his long legs took him through the office to the front door and out of it. He flat out ran down the steps and to the Cruiser, pulling his keys out and beeping the locks on the run. Tearing open the door when he arrived, he folded in, started it up and screeched out of his parking spot, through the forecourt and out into the road.

He was at home in half the time it normally took and he bolted up the outside stairs taking them three at a time. His heart squeezed when he saw the backdoor hanging open but he didn’t hesitate running through it. Then his heart twisted when he saw the state of the house. Struggle, evidence of it everywhere, oatmeal on the wall, a broken bowl on the floor under it, a shattered glass, a stool overturned. He didn’t look closely, didn’t give it time as he raced through the house up the stairs and to their bedroom.

Bed unmade.

Clothes on the floor.

Not unusual.

But no nightie tossed anywhere.

And no Lexie.

His feet took him to the closet because the light was on. He looked down and saw it.

The safe open, cleaned out. Her jewelry boxes gone, the cash gone.

His gun, the clips and ammo gone.

He turned and sprinted down the stairs, through the living room, down the stairs to the utility room, opening the door.

Snake and Charger there.

He had no f**king clue what Shift was driving.

He just knew Shift had his money, the jewelry, his gun and his f**king wife.

“This isn’t happening,” he whispered to the cars, his chest expanding and contracting so big, so deep it was painful, he felt it in his gut, his throat, that burn searing through him. “This isn’t happening,” he repeated.

Then he hit the button on the wall to open the garage and ran through, ducking low because the door hadn’t fully opened, he cleared it and ran to the Cruiser. He yanked open the door, leaned in and grabbed his phone he’d thrown on the passenger seat.

He flipped it open, found Julius and hit go.

It rang once after he put it to his ear.

“You okay, my man?” Julius answered.

“Shift has my wife. What was he driving and was there someone with him?”

Silence.

“Julius!” Ty roared. “That piece of shit has my wife! What car was he f**king in when the drive-by happened and was there someone with him?”

“No partner, Walk. Don’t know the car,” Julius answered as Ty turned and saw Wood’s truck approaching the condo at high-speed. “But I’ll find out.”

“Do it fast,” Ty ordered.

“You know I will,” Julius replied then there was a disconnect.

Wood was parked and out of his truck, eyes on Ty, body and mouth already moving. “Talk to me.”

“Lexie’s gone. The man Tate and I visited in Dallas shot Angel Peña and headed up here. He has my wife.”

Wood stopped close and pulled out his phone, saying, “You call Tate. I’ll call the CPD.”

“Tate’s after a skip,” Ty told him and Wood’s eyes lifted from his keypad to Ty.

“I think he’ll come back.” Then he put the phone to his ear.

Ty made his call and got Tate’s voicemail.

“Tate, Duane Martinez skipped bond. He took care of business in Dallas and shot Peña. Now he’s taking care of business in Colorado and he’s got Lexie. Fuck, f**k, f**k…” he lost it, pulled it together and then said in a whisper, “I need you again, man.”

Then he flipped his phone shut.

Then as Wood muttered on his phone, it hit him.

The air.

He looked around.

The sky was bright and blue. The sun shining.

But no snowmelt.

It was below freezing.

He turned and sprinted back up the steps, checking behind the door where there were hooks where they kept their jackets and coats. He stared at it, never paying much attention, not knowing if she hooked hers there last night but she usually did and it was there. In fact, all three of them were there. Two of her heavy but stylish jackets and her new winter coat.

His heart twisted again and, f**k, that shit hurt.

Wood walked in, eyes on Ty. “CPD on its way but what spooked you?”

Ty looked to Wood. “She’s in her nightie.”

Wood held Ty’s eyes and started carefully, “Ty –”

Ty leaned toward him bent at the waist and thundered, “My f**king wife is with a f**king piece of f**king shit. It’s f**king freezing, she’s f**king carrying my child and she’s in her goddamned f**king nightie and all I can f**king do is stand here and wait for a goddamned f**king phone call so I can know what the f**k I’m lookin’ for.”

Wood took one step toward him and said quietly, “Man, you have got to calm down.”

“Maggie was with a drug dealin’ pimp with vengeance on his mind, she was pregnant, in a f**kin’ nightie and socks when there’s snow on the ground, would you be calm?” Ty clipped.

“You’ve had your blow out, now you gotta get a handle on it, Ty. You losin’ your mind is not gonna help Lexie.”

This, f**k him, was f**king true.

His phone rang in his hand, he didn’t even look at the display before flipping it open and putting it to his ear.

“Talk,” he barked.

“Brother, I’m headin’ home right now. Just outside Denver, should be there in two hours.”

It was Tate.

“Right,” Ty replied.

“Keep your head. You call CPD?” Tate asked.

“Wood’s here. He did. They’re on their way.”

“Peña?”

“Given last rites.”

Silence then, “Fuck.”

“Right. Fuck,” Ty bit off.