He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, boss.”

“Tell me you have good news.” His office was secure, with good insulation. There was no way the cop down the hall could hear him and no one else was currently on this floor. It was the only reason he was talking to his contact.

“Maybe. I called in a favor to one of my buddies at the PD. Narrowed down the reports of all the stolen vehicles around the time the target disappeared—”

“Get to the point,” he snarled. His contact loved over-explaining what he did for Neal. He knew the guy was smart; it was why he used him. He didn’t need a play-by-play.

There was a short pause, then he spoke with what sounded like gritted teeth. “There was a Pinto taken within a two block radius of where Hugh’s SUV was found. I’m just surprised the owner reported it stolen. Anyway, the car blew through a few tolls. I know because…never mind. I can’t know for certain but from the direction the car was going when it was pinged, compared against the addresses in her online address book, there’s a possibility she’s going to Vegas. She’s got one contact in Vegas and I remember her talking about missing a wedding there a few weeks ago because of that business trip.”

“Head there now.” Taylor was smart and if she was running, she’d want to get some distance, but wouldn’t want to go too far. Because Taylor wouldn’t want to let Neal get away with hurting her precious mentor. And she wouldn’t go to a hotel or motel because she was too smart to use her credit cards. No, she’d want to go to ground somewhere she felt safe.

“Hadn’t heard from you so I’m already on my way. Should be at the address in half an hour.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“It just says Vadim S in her company address book. It’s synced to her phone.” He sounded smug but Neal was the one who’d given him access to her employee files so it wasn’t as if he’d hacked into it.

The name Vadim was familiar, but Neal couldn’t place it. Had the man done work for the company before? He frowned, wracking his brain, but shelved the name momentarily as he said, “Use any force necessary.”

“What if she’s got back up?”

“Everyone is expendable. If you have to do extra work, there’s a bonus in it for you.” He hated that he might have to pay his contact extra, especially when he needed all funds to go to the Russians or to his getaway stash. At least without Hugh around he wouldn’t have to worry about hiding his diverted funds. For a while at least he could siphon off larger amounts, maybe completely pay off the Russians now instead of using his payment plan.

“Done. Going dark until I know if the target bolted here.”

“Good. Don’t fuck this up.” He disconnected before his contact could respond. Perfect timing too. Escobar knocked even though he could see him clearly through the glass door of his office.

Neal stood and motioned for Escobar and the two women to enter. They both looked nervous, but that was to be expected. He rarely talked to them because he had no reason to. They were in IT and he had limited communication with them.

Pasting on what he hoped was an open, yet sad expression, he half-smiled at the women and motioned for them to sit in the seats in front of his desk. It was game time. He needed to know what Taylor had said to them. Even the smallest detail might give her away and he was determined to find her location at all costs.

* * *

Taylor looked up at the tall, incredibly sexy man she’d just sobbed all over like a complete maniac. He didn’t seem too bothered by it, but she couldn’t fight her embarrassment. She shouldn’t even care, not after everything she’d been through today, but the man with mismatched eyes looked at her as if he could see every single thought she had. One eye was brown and the other a bluish-green, the unique combination making her feel even more off-kilter.

When she’d woken up with him crouching over her in the shower she’d completely lost it. Panic still hummed through her, that adrenaline blast in her system having barely faded at all. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for trying to hit you with a vodka bottle.”

To her surprise, his lips curved up the tiniest fraction. She wondered if it was his version of a smile. “I need to look at your wound before we head to the hospital. At least put a bandage over it so you don’t bleed through your clothes.”

She looked at the truck stop clothes she’d discarded on the tiled floor of the bathroom. The sweatpants should be okay to wear again, but she’d bled through the shirt. It didn’t matter in the big scheme of things. Because Vadim was right. She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept in the shower, but she felt less fuzzy now. Enough so that she knew talking to the police in Vegas and at least documenting her injury was the smart thing. She couldn’t believe how out of it, how purely panicked she’d been. “Okay. If you know where Vadim’s First Aid kit is, I’ll grab it.”

He just snorted and pointed to the marble-topped counter. “Sit there. I’ll be back.”

Normally a forceful or demanding tone from a stranger would get a rise out of her, but it was a relief to let someone else take over. At least temporarily. Adrenaline might be jagging through her, but she was still weak and shaky. As he left the room, she grabbed the sweatpants off the floor and tugged them on. Then she held the towel up to her chest as she sat on the counter.

Turning sideways, she looked at her exposed body in the mirror. The wound was still red and trickles of blood were still streaming down her side. Damn it, she’d probably get the blood on her pants now. She slid off the countertop as Roman walked back in with a small red and white kit in one of his big hands.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice strong and soothing, taking away some of her edginess.

She clutched the towel to her chest, not caring that her back was exposed. “Yeah. I just realized I shouldn’t have put my sweatpants on so soon. Not until after I patch up.”

He nodded and turned around. “Strip ’em and tell me when you’re ready.”

She blinked at that tone that brooked no argument. “You can just leave the kit with me.”

“It makes more sense for me to bandage you. The wound is in an uncomfortable place.” He shrugged. “But you can do what you want.”

She liked that he wasn’t pushing her, his actions making her trust him more than words ever could. “You’re right. Hold on.” She shimmied the pants off before hopping back up on the counter. Her back and part of her butt were visible in the mirror as she held the towel over her front and around her non-wounded side, but she didn’t have enough energy to care about partial nudity at this point.

When he turned around, he paused for a second, his gaze sweeping over her in a very non-clinical fashion. He did it so quickly she wondered if he was even aware of it. A moment later, he was at her side. If Vadim vouched for him, she was going to trust him. There was something intrinsically solid about him too. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there it was, the most primal part of her brain telling her she’d be safe with this man. Not that he in any way or shape seemed safe. No, he had a dangerous edge to him, but he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Hold your arm up while I clean your wound, okay?” he asked in a surprisingly gentle voice.

She did as he said, watching as he opened the kit.

“So Neal Lynch is the name of the man who shot you?” he asked as he began pulling out antiseptic and bandages.

“Vadim told you his last name?” She looked away from him, facing forward as she spoke.

“Yeah. This might sting for a second, but I’m going to clean the wound.”

“It won’t hurt more than getting shot,” she muttered.

Roman laughed, the bold sound taking her off guard, rolling through her like a warm, soothing balm. “You’re right about that. And you’re damn lucky that Lynch fucker wasn’t a better shot. I don’t even think you’ll need stitches.”