Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel again, he checked his watch. It had been almost thirty minutes since Bree had left.
A bad feeling shot through him. That was way too long.
Jumping out of the truck, he ran down the street and into the salon, raising a lot of questioning looks by his sudden appearance. His gaze swept the room, but he didn't see Sierra or Bree.
"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked.
"Where's Sierra?"
"She's in the back. Do you have an appointment?"
"No, but she'll want to see me," he said, striding through the salon.
Sierra was standing by a back door that led into a parking lot.
"Sierra," he said sharply.
She whirled around at his approach, her gaze widening. "Nathan Bishop? What are you doing here?"
"I'm looking for Bree."
"Well, that hasn't changed, has it? You were always looking for Bree."
"Where is she?" he demanded. He pushed open a nearby door and found himself looking at an empty office.
"Is everything all right, Sierra?" the receptionist asked, coming down the hall, her phone in hand, ready to dial 911.
"It's fine," Sierra said shortly. "Go back to the desk."
"Where is Bree?" he repeated, his hands knotting into fists to prevent himself from shaking the truth out of Sierra.
"I don't know. She was waiting for me in the office. I had to fix someone's color, and when I came back, she was gone, and this door was open. I assume she left."
He didn't assume that at all. "You're lying. Someone took her. Who? Johnny?"
"Johnny would not take Bree back in a million years. He has me now."
"But Bree had his baby, and you know that. What did you do? Did you tell her where Johnny is? Did you call Johnny?"
"I didn't tell her anything, and I didn't call Johnny. I also don't know anything about this girl that Johnny supposedly took. He's been with me every day, every night, the past week. I think you're both lying. And I want you out of my salon."
"Not until you tell me where she is."
"I have no idea."
"She wouldn't go out the back door when I was waiting in the front."
"Don't you ever get tired of waiting for Bree?"
"No, I don't. I love her. I always have."
"You think that's a surprise to me?" she asked harshly. "But she doesn't love you. And she never has. If she's with you, it's because she needs something. She always used you, and you always came running."
"Johnny went running to her, too. You had to wait until Bree was gone before you could get him. But you're going to lose him, Sierra. Because he's in deep shit. He kidnapped a kid. He's going down for that, and you're going to go with him, if you don't help me. Tell me where Johnny is."
"If you go looking for Johnny, he'll kill you this time. He won't let you make it to the hospital."
"You knew what he did to me?" he asked, shocked by her words.
"Yes. I was the one who called the fire department. I told them the old school was on fire. I figured they'd send a truck to check it out."
"That was you?" he asked in astonishment, remembering the sirens that had made Johnny leave him with breath still left in his body.
"Yes. Because believe it or not I didn't want him to kill you."
Sierra had saved his life and risked her own at the same time. "Why would you have done that for me?"
"I honestly don't know. Luckily, Johnny never found out."
He gave her a long stare. "Thank you."
She shifted her feet and gave a shrug.
He glanced beyond Sierra, seeing something glittering in the sunlight beyond the door. He walked outside to get it. It was Bree's phone. There was no way she'd left of her own free will. She'd ditched it on purpose, so he would know she was in trouble. He looked back at Sierra. "Someone grabbed her."
"I don't know who."
"You have an idea. Help me, Sierra. You're not like Johnny. You don't want Bree to die. She was your friend once."
"I can't remember that."
"Yes, you can. We were all the same, Sierra. We were all wounded, struggling to survive. We helped each other. And Bree helped you."
"That was a long time ago."
"You remember."
"I'm with Johnny now," she said, a note of worry in her voice. "I love him. He loves me."
"Then save him from himself."
Her lips drew into a taut line. "If he ever finds out…"
"He won't."
"He might. He had to have had people following Bree, because I didn't call him. I didn't call anyone."
If that were true, then maybe he was putting Sierra's life in danger. "I'll tell him I was following Bree. I saw her get grabbed. Your name won't come up."
She stared back at him. "Howie's Automotive on Hudson. Johnny has an office on the second floor. There's a fire escape on the side of the building. It goes into the storage room. There will be a guard in the hallway."
He was surprised at the level of detail in her answer. But then Sierra had always noted everything when it came to Johnny. "Thanks."
"I'm not helping you, Nathan. If Johnny sees you, he'll kill you. I'm probably sending you to your death. Are you willing to die for Bree? Because that's what it's going to take to save her."
He saw the cold truth in her eyes. He also knew the answer to that question. "Yes, I am." He paused. "Don't go home tonight, Sierra. Stay with a friend."
"Now you're worried about me?"
"I'm worried about everyone."
"Johnny would never hurt me."
"Don't bet your life on that."
*
Bree winced as the car she was in hit a pothole. She couldn't see anything with the hood that had been thrown over her head and tied around her neck so tight she could barely breathe. A zip tie had also fastened her hands behind her back.
She'd only seen one of the men who'd grabbed her out of Sierra's office, but there were at least two. They hadn't said anything to her; they'd just thrown her into a car and taken off.
Sierra must have called in Johnny's guards. Which meant they were taking her to Johnny.
Her heart raced at the thought of seeing him again. By now he knew she'd stolen his child, his blood, his heir. She'd told Nathan that Johnny had never gotten physical with her, and that had been the truth, but she knew now there was violence in Johnny's soul. What he'd done to Nathan after she left—what he'd probably done to a lot of other people—showed who he really was. And she'd hurt him in a way that no one else had. There was a good chance he was going to kill her. She'd known going to Sierra was a risk, but for a moment there, she'd really thought that Sierra might help her.
She'd been wrong.
Nathan had been right. He'd told her she was taking a huge risk.
It was one she'd thought she'd had to take, but now a terrible despair ran through her. If she'd blown this, Hayley might never be found.
She tried to reassure herself that no matter what happened to her, Nathan would keep looking. He'd make sure the agency continued to go after Johnny. He'd find her daughter.
Her heart filled with so much pain she almost couldn't handle it. She wanted to see Hayley in person. She wanted to look into her daughter's eyes. She'd been denied that opportunity when Hayley was born, but she wanted it now, wanted it with a fierce sense of desperation.
The car came to an abrupt stop and she hit the side of the door with her shoulder. A moment later, that same door opened, and she was hauled out, a gun pressing into her back, as a low voice ordered her to move.
A man had a tight grip on her arm, so there was no chance of escape, not that she could go anywhere in her current state. She didn't think she was outside. They must have pulled into a garage. She smelled gasoline, and the floor was hard, probably concrete.
"Up," the man said. "Stairs."
She stumbled up the steps as he dragged her along. In the distance, she could hear a clanging—metal on metal. She heard the roar of an engine.
Was she in an auto shop?
But why were there stairs?
She tried to make a mental note of everything. When they reached the landing, they turned to the right. The light brightened behind her hood. There was daylight coming in from somewhere. A door opened.
She was shoved inside another room. This room felt darker.