Fifteen minutes was a long time for her to be gone. He was impatient. He wanted her alone. He wanted to keep dancing with her. He intended to dance with her until dawn but in a different way.

But the bar was packed which meant there could be a line at the women’s restroom.

He grabbed his beer, lifted it up, took a drag and on the way down his eyes caught on Tate.

Tate was just down the bar leaning two forearms into it, one hand curled around a bottle of beer. Laurie was at his side but she had an arm around his gut and her torso was draped over his back, leaning into Wendy who she was talking to and Chace couldn’t see Lauren but Wendy was laughing.

Tate’s woman might be draped over his back but his eyes were on Chace.

When he caught Chace’s he lifted his beer and he tipped it out as his lips twitched.

Chace knew what that salute meant.

Tate knew what Chace was feeling. Not finding the right woman but finding the only one, the perfect one, the one that was meant for you. Then putting your ring on her finger, claiming her and knowing she was yours, no one else would ever have her, your bed would never be cold, you’d always have someone at your side or taking your back.

Tate Jackson knew how good that felt. He knew what it meant. He knew how important it was. He knew there was nothing better in the world.

Chace lifted his chin to him then watched as Lauren shifted to say something in his ear. Tate’s eyes unfocused as he listened, his face got soft, his lips curved up then he turned his neck and Chace lost sight of him as he took his woman’s mouth.

Yeah. Tate Jackson knew how good it felt.

At that moment, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He pulled it out, not surprised it was vibrating even though it was late. Word was traveling fast. Well wishes were coming thick. Chace reckoned that day was significant for the town of Carnal. Ty Walker had moved onto the next step of good coming out of a life fucked by the men who’d fucked over the town. On the same day, Chace had too.

Chace looked down at his phone to see it was a text. He moved his thumb over the buttons to pull it up and when he saw it, his body went still.

We have Faye. As of now, she has four hours of air. You have that time to find and return the articles needed. If you don’t, we won’t tell you where to dig her out and she’ll run out of breath.

After reading it, his lungs burning, Chace moved swiftly from his position at the bar and shoved through the crowd toward the back hall. When he made it to the mouth, regardless of the heaving bar, he saw it was empty.

He moved down it to the women’s restroom.

He opened the door, a blonde at the sink turned and narrowed her eyes at him but he ignored her and called sharply, “Faye!”

“You cool, dude?” she asked.

He was absolutely not.

“Faye!” he clipped.

Nothing.

His eyes went to the blonde. “You seen a redhead in here?”

She looked at him and bent slightly to aim her eyes under the stalls, calling, “Any of you redheads?”

“Nope.”

“Not me.”

“He cute?”

None of them Faye.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Before she could answer, he swung out and moved quickly down the hall to the back and the emergency exit. He pushed the door open and heard no alarm. Outside in the alley there was no car, there was no one. There was nothing.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He moved up the hall, stopping at the mouth and tipping his head down to the phone.

Fifteen minutes, if they incapacitated her, had a car, they could be long gone.

He stared at his phone.

Four hours of air.

Chace kept staring at his phone.

Dig her out.

Chace continued to stare at his phone.

She’ll run out of breath.

Memories collided in his brain.

Faye staring at him the first time she did it with that wonder in her eyes, on the sidewalk outside La-La Land when he apologized for being a dick. He didn’t know it then but she did it because she had a crush on him and he was, also for the first time, close.

It affected her so much, just him being close, she stopped breathing.

So he’d whispered, Breathe, Faye.

And right before he wrapped her hand around his cock the first time they’d made love, she’d been holding her breath.

So he’d murmured, Breathe, baby.

And that very night when he’d put his ring on her finger.

Baby, he’d whispered, Breathe.

She’ll run out of breath.

Breathe.

“Chace?” Tate’s voice came at him from close, his head jerked up and when Tate saw him, his face went from questioning to alert. “Christ, man, what’s goin’ on?”

“They’ve got Faye,” he growled.

“Who?” Tate asked.

“The Elite,” Chace answered tersely, those two words raw and he didn’t see Tate’s chin jerk back. He was moving toward the door, pushing through the crowd, vaguely hearing Tate shout men’s names but his mind was scrambling.

Darren Newcomb was not a bud. Chace detested the man. He avoided him as best he could. He had no idea who he’d trust. He had no idea where he’d hide that shit. He had no idea who he might give it to.

“Fuck,” Chace hissed, pushing open the door and hitting buttons on his phone.

He stopped outside, hit reply then typed in, I’ll find it, you’ll get it but I’ll need more time and then he hit send.

“Chace, talk,” Tate ordered and Chace looked up to see Tate there with Bubba, Deke, Wood, Jim-Billy and Deck.

“There’s shit out there,” he told them.

“We know,” Tate replied. Always sharp, Tatum Jackson. He knew exactly what was going on.

“They want it. From their message it sounds like they’ve buried Faye somewhere. She’s got four hours for me to find that shit and get it to them or she runs out of air.”

“Buried her?” Deck growled, his big body tense, his mood drifting dangerously through the air and Chace shoved his phone to his friend who took it but suddenly it all came clear and his eyes sliced to Tate.

“Tate, call Max. Get him to get to George Nielson, find him, drag his ass out of bed if he has to and find out what he knows or if he can find out anything. Max isn’t up for that, I need a man to go to Gnaw Bone who is,” Chace ordered, Tate lifted up his chin and stepped away.

His phone chimed and Deck hit buttons, then his eyes came to Chace. “They said you got four hours, no more,” he told him, jaw hard, eyes glittering.

Chace looked at his friend. “That number, from the text, use your superpowers. Get a lock on it.” Deck nodded, stepped back and pulled out his own phone. Chace looked to Wood. “You call Ty. I know it’s shit on a night as good as tonight for him but we need to pull him in. He needs to connect with Dewey. Dewey knows everything about everyone. Get Ty to get Dewey on the move collecting intel. Dewey can find out or even has ideas, we need to know who may be in play and how they’ll play it.”

“Right, bud,” Wood muttered and stepped away.

Chace reached out and yanked his phone out of Deck’s hand then he took off running towards Faye’s apartment.

“Fuck! Where you goin’?” Bubba shouted at his back as he ran and hit buttons on his phone.

He put it to his ear and listened to it ring. It rang four times and he was about to disconnect in order to reconnect and wake that jackass up when he heard his father’s voice.

“Chace?”

“Dad –” he started, his breath heavy but Trane cut him off.

“It’s nearly two in the morning.”

“Shut the fuck up and listen. Your buddies lost patience. They’ve buried Faye alive. I got four hours to get the shit out there back to them or she runs out of air. Get your ass out of bed on the phone or in your car or fuckin’ both and find out where Faye is.”

“Buried alive?” Trane whispered as Chace took the turn into the alley toward Faye’s apartment hearing footfalls behind him.

“Every second you waste is a second of air she does not have,” Chace growled into the phone as he made the next turn into the back alley then he disconnected.

He sprinted up her steps hearing men taking them behind him. He yanked out his keys, opened the door and surged through. He ran straight to her desk, turned on the lamp there and hit the button for her computer.

“Brother, you gotta let us in on what’s goin’ on in your head so we can move out and find your girl,” Deck told him as Chace searched through the shit on Faye’s desk, yanking at it, his hands hitting shit he didn’t need, it falling to the floor unheeded then he found it. Her address book.

He stepped away from the computer and looked at Deck. “That boots up, call up her chat and see if you can engage a guy named Benji or someone that calls herself SerenityWash.”

He saw the other men all standing in Faye’s apartment, all of them on their phones then he bent his head and flipped through the address book.

Nothing on anyone named Benji. No entry with “SerenityWash”.

Fuck.

“Chace,” Tate called and Chace looked to him. “I’m goin’ to Newcomb’s sister.”

“Frank questioned her. She says she doesn’t know shit,” Chace told him.

“She says it but she might change her mind knowin’ someone’s buried alive so she might cough it up or she may know Newcomb enough to know where he hid it or who he gave it to then the boys can make the rounds,” Tate returned.

“Go,” Chace grunted and Tate went.

“Got Benji,” Deck told him, shifting away from the keyboard and Chace moved in.