Give Me Strength (35 page)

Casey’s brows flew up. “You only got engaged
last night.”

“I know,” he snapped and rolled his eyes. “It’s
not a good car for babies she says.”

I chuckled. “She’ll take you shopping for an SUV
soon.”

Jared took his hand off the steering wheel to
punch me in the arm. “Take that back, asshole.”

My phone rang and ignoring Jared, I put it to my
ear. “Yeah?”

“Trav, thank God,” came Mac’s tense voice.
Considering Mac always sounded tense, it didn’t ring alarm bells.
“Quinn said you’d been arrested.”

I chuckled. “Christ, she isn’t worried is she?
It’s all been sorted out. I’m on my way to the hospital now. Are
you there?”

“I am, but there’s a problem. A really big,
horrible problem.”

My stomach sank. “What?” I barked.

“Quinn’s gone.”

I gripped the phone tight to my ear. “What the
fuck, Mac!”

“Don’t shout at me,” she shouted. “I already
know I fucked up. Oh God,” she moaned.

I twisted in my seat and eyed Casey and Jared.
“Quinn’s gone.”

Waves of tension rolled through the car, and
Jared planted his foot, just catching an orange light.

I put the phone down and hit a button. “You’re
on speaker. Talk.”

“We were out the front of the hospital. Evie
went to get the car and bring it around and—”

“Why the hell was Quinn leaving the
hospital?”

“I…she…you were locked up, and it was all a
mistake. She said they were releasing her anyway and that we were
going to bust you out. Well, not bust you out but clear everything
up and get you released.”

“Christ, Mac,” Casey snapped from the back. “The
doctor said she’d be in at least overnight if not two nights.”

“Well obviously she’s a big, fat liar.”

“Never mind,” I growled. “Just tell us what
happened.”

“Evie went to get the car and then Quinn told me
she left her phone on the counter inside where we signed the
release paperwork, so I said I’d duck in and grab it and to wait
right there. The uniform at the door was dismissed because we were
leaving. When I came back out, she wasn’t there.”

I banged the back of my head hard on the
headrest, twice. “Okay. How long were you gone?”

“Five minutes maybe.”

Casey shoved his phone towards me. “I’ve got a
trace on her phone. It’s tracked her to the M4 heading west.”

Without hesitating, Jared checked his mirrors
and swung the steering wheel hard left. The back end fishtailed
wildly as we started for the most direct route to the M4.

I gripped the dash as I spoke to Mac. “So
obviously you didn’t find her phone. Did you see her speak to
anyone or see anyone that was suspicious?”

Jared accelerated, screaming down the road
nowhere near fast enough for my liking, as he fought through thick
afternoon traffic.

“No! I wasn’t paying attention to anyone else
because Quinn’s body was pumped full of painkillers. She wasn’t
steady on her feet.”

“Where are you and Evie now?” Jared asked,
changing gears and checking his mirror as he shifted lanes.

“We’re still at the hospital.”

“Both of you back to the duplex now,” he
ordered. “Whatever you’ve got on tonight, cancel it.”

“But we can—”

“No.” I cut her off. “You can’t. Just do it and
ring us when you’re there.”

She replied with a muffled okay, and I
disconnected the call.

“Jared, give your phone to Casey. Casey, get
Coby on the line. Tell him what’s going on and to get over to the
duplex and stick with the girls.”

I dialled Quinn’s number. It rang out. I dialled
again.

“Mr. Valentine,” answered the male voice.

“Who is this?”

“You’re speaking with Luka Zampetti.”

“Fuck!” I yelled as my stomach rolled in fear.
Sonofafuckingbitch. “The Zampetti’s have her,” I muttered to Jared
as Casey spoke to Coby from the back seat.

“Such language you people have. Yes we have
Quinn if that’s what you were trying to ask me. We’re absolutely
delighted with her. She’s so very pretty.”

“You better not harm a hair on her head,
Zampetti. You’re about to have every police officer in the damn
state on your ass. Put her on the phone.”

“You want to talk to her? Why not.”

There was a muffled fumble and then the sweet
sound of her voice answered the phone. I closed my eyes for a brief
second.

“Quinn! Are you okay?” My voice cracked. I
leaned over and held my head in my hand.

“Oh, Travis,” she murmured. “You wasted your
phone call.”

“What?”

“Your one phone call,” she repeated.

“Quinn, Jesus. It was a misunderstanding. They
let me go when they realised it wasn’t me who shot David. Have
they—”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Motherfucking Zampetti’s,” Casey yelled from
behind me and kicked the back of the centre console in frustration.
I held up a hand, indicating for him to shut the hell up. “Have
they hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine too.”

I didn’t believe her. Her voice was shaky and
she sounded so damn scared.

“Hold tight. I’m coming for you. I promise.” I
swallowed hard. God. If anything happened to her I don’t… I pushed
the thought away. “Just…I need to know we’re okay—you and me,” I
pleaded. “I need to hear you say it.”

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust in us. That I didn’t
give you a chance to explain before I ran. Nothing we have is a
lie,” she told me with a voice thick with tears. “I love you.”

“Oh, God, sweetheart,” I whispered hoarsely, my
heart swelling as I stared blindly out the window. “I love you so
much.”

“I… Travis—” she cried out and then she was
gone.

“Mr. Valentine,” Luka said into the phone.
“Quinn is going to prove very valuable to us, but we’re going to be
busy from here on in. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bother us
again.”

The line went dead and hot tears filled my eyes.
After a deep breath I handed Casey back his phone and picked up
Quinn’s signal on my own.

“Casey.” I cleared my throat. “Ring Mitch. Fill
him in and tell him where we’re headed.”

The scenery flew by as we hit the M4 Freeway,
and Casey spoke in the background on his phone. I blanked his words
and tried to clear my mind and stay calm, but when Quinn’s location
stopped moving passed the M7 Westlink, my heart stuttered.

“Hell,” I muttered.

Jared glanced across at me as he drove.
“What?”

There was nowhere to turn off and stop along
that freeway. It could only mean one thing. “He’s dumped her
phone.” And I lost the only link to tracking her. “I promised her
we were coming for her,” I whispered.

Rage built up like a force inside of me.

“Trav,” Casey said from behind me.

“Fuck!” I roared and slammed my fist on the
dash. The brief burst of pain was a welcome relief. I threw my
phone on the floor, my body shaking from the effort to contain the
desperate fury. “Sonofabitch!”

“We’re going to find her,” Jared said. “We need
to work out where Zampetti would be heading.”

“Mitch said the AFP isn’t talking.”

“Maybe once they know they’ve got Quinn they
might start,” Casey muttered.

I bent over and grabbed for my phone. We’d
reached the signal for Quinn but as my eyes took in everything
ahead, all I could see was empty road. Rubbing my forehead wearily,
I started to dial Mitch when he rang me at the same time.

I answered. “Yeah?”

“Here’s the deal,” he began. “The AFP have a
nark high up. He’s sent a signal to get the police ready to close
in. His last location was at a safe house in Penrith. If your
heading west on the M4 it sounds likely that Zampetti could
possibly be heading to that safe house right now.”

I twisted in my seat and indicated for Casey to
give me his phone. He handed it over, and Mitch spelled out the
address as I typed it in the phone and called up the map.

“Thanks, Mitch. We’re heading there right
now.”

“Travis, wait,” he said quickly before I could
hang up. “I’m right behind you, but…be safe. This shit is a big
deal. They’re calling in choppers left and right. No matter what,
we’ll find her, okay?”

Even though he couldn’t see me, I nodded anyway.
“Okay.”

After hanging up I ran the coordinates of the
safe house with Jared and sat back in my seat, fighting the urge to
tell Jared how to drive. My legs were cramped from the tiny
matchbox car, and I needed a cigarette. Quinn first, but a
cigarette straight after to calm the itchy nerves would be really
fucking good right now.

After what seemed an eternity, we arrived at the
address in time to see two unmarked sedans and agents busting down
the door.

I glanced across at Jared as he squealed to a
halt, parking sideways across the driveway. “Guns?” I yelled.

“Boot,” he replied.

We both bailed out and I slid the front seat
forward for Casey to get out before running for the boot. I grabbed
one of the two handguns Jared held out and engaged the slide with a
quick, efficient movement.

The three of us approached the house at a jog,
and stepping through the open door, heard the agents yell ‘clear’
even as my eyes took in the empty room.

“Back here!” one yelled and I followed the
sound, leaving Jared to pass on our identification.

“Oh God,” I moaned when we stepped through to
the dining area. I swallowed the nausea from the sight that greeted
me, the effort causing a sweat to break out on my brow. A window
had been shot out, shards of glass scattered across the floor. The
room was empty apart from two chairs, one was kicked over, but both
were covered in blood. I spun around. Blood spatter trailed up the
wall. It smeared across the floor and pooled on the timber
flooring. The metallic tang of it filtered the air. My body dropped
to a crouch, and I hung my head in my hands, the gun still clasped
tight in my fingers as I fought to breathe past the waves of fear
that rolled through me faster than I could repress them.

A hand landed on my shoulder. I shook my head,
my body starting to shake with the sobs I couldn’t contain.

“Travis,” Casey croaked, the heartbreak in his
voice staggering, dragging me further into despair. “This doesn’t
mean anything.”

After a moment I stood, and disengaging the gun
and tucking it into the waistband of my jeans, strode blankly from
the room and straight out the front door. Dusk had arrived. The sky
was tinged with pale blues, yellows, and pinks, the air cold, the
street lit up with flashing police cars as uniforms stormed the
house, setup up police tape, and took over the street.

One hand on my hip, the other wrapped around the
back of my neck, I stared blankly at the paved driveway, my mind
working frantically to decide on our next move.

“Travis!” A car door slammed and I looked
up.

Mitch jogged towards me, his partner Tate on his
heels as Casey and Jared reached my side. He spread a directory
over the bonnet of the nearest car, and we huddled around while he
hurriedly flicked pages.

He pointed and said breathlessly, “Here. Old man
Zampetti has a wife. Her sister has a company that owns a rural
property along this road. You need to get back on the M4 and head
farther out towards the Blue Mountains. The place has a private
airstrip. The crew I was talking to think that’s where they could
be headed next. Luka drives a black BMW 760 sedan.” He rattled off
the registration number. “Those cars can move bloody fast.”

I committed the location and registration to
memory and looked up, relieved to have a focus. Mitch met my eyes
and gave a nod. “Let’s go.”

We sprinted to our cars and moved out, taking
the most direct route to the property, having no idea how far we
were behind them, or even sure it was the direction they were
heading in.

Jittery, I tapped my hand on my thigh, my eyes
peeled to every car in front of us that we eventually reached and
overtook. My phone buzzed a message from Mac.

M: Any news? Lucy and Rick are here at the
duplex.

I replied as quickly as possible.

T: Working a lead.

We hit a quiet winding road, thick with tall
trees and scrub, making the dark nightfall approach that much
faster. Mitch and Tate were behind us, two cars of agents not far
behind them.

I checked the map on my phone.

“Close,” I muttered.

“Fuck!” Casey shouted and pointed at a right
angle through the two seats. I followed his line. Down an
embankment, crushed against a tree, was a black BMW and in the
fading light I could just make out a partial on the registration
Mitch had given us. The entire front and left side was crumpled
inwards, the bonnet steaming, headlights blazing deep into the
forest.

Jared tore off the side of the road, and I was
out of the car and sprinting at a dead run before the car had even
peeled to a full stop.

“Quinn!” I shouted breathlessly, my heart in my
throat. I grabbed the handgun from my waistband and engaged the
slide, skidding my way down the embankment. “Quinn!”

***