take her hostage, a situation the older woman might not survive. If she went along with the maniac, Mrs Kensington would be safe. She could call Night, and line up the cavalry for a rescue.
She hoped.
With a long sigh, she stopped resisting, obediently climbing into the car as instructed, her heart pounding and sinking at the same time. Terror flowed through her veins as she contemplated what the future might bring.
Chapter 12
"What in the Hell do you mean 'she was kidnapped'?" Night growled into his phone, fear raging inside him. The thought that someone had broken into his house, threatened his mother, and driven off with Summer in tow sent his blood boiling. Nearly home when his mother called, he sped the remaining distance as if the hounds of Hell nipped at his heels.
Shoving his truck into park and cutting the engine, he ran for the front door, finding his mother sitting in her recliner, tears flowing unchecked down her cheeks. He drew her into his arms, holding her tight, whispering soothing words in Navajo.
"She offered herself in my place. He was going to take me until Summer pointed out how I would slow him down." She began to cry in earnest. A couple of minutes later, she regained her composure, sitting up straight. "I have to call her neighbor to care for her animals. She gave me a couple of numbers."
Night spied the paper on the table, grabbing it for a closer look. "Why two numbers?"
His mother blinked. "I don't know. That's just what she wrote down before he took her out of here."
The numbers both appeared to be cell numbers and from different base locations indicated by the dissimilar area codes. Pulling out his cell phone, he punched a button, impatiently waiting for his call to be answered. "Spoon. Condition Alpha. I need you to trace these phone numbers now." He rattled off both, tapping his toe as he waited. The answer gave him a semblance of hope. "GPS on the latter line?"
He looked over at his mother. "Tell me again what he said."
"He said he would call. You had twenty-four hours to get the jewelry, the gold nugget necklace, or he would kill her." Her last words tapered off as if it broke her heart to repeat them.
"You got that, Spoon? I'm at home. Hell, yes, I'm going to track that bastard. Rendezvous in two hours."
Slapping the phone closed, he kneeled down in front of his mother. "We'll get her back. I promise." Seeing her watery eyes full of worry, fear, and misery broke his heart. He wrapped her up in his arms and held her tight. She needed a distraction. "Can you call her neighbor? It's the first number."
His mother nodded. "It's the least I can do."
"Good. I need to get going."
"Bring her home, Hayaazh."
She rarely called him son in her native language these days. That she did so now, touched him and at the same time, gave him the ammunition needed to pursue the rabid son of a bitch that stole a woman under his protection. A woman adored by his mother and one he thought highly of himself.
He kissed her cheek, then moved to his bedroom, packing a large duffle bag with clothes and weapons, preparing for the arrival of his men.
* * * *
Promptly two hours later a black SUV entered Night's driveway. He jogged out to meet it, duffle bag in tow. Once he climbed into the passenger seat, he glanced at his team, all with concern written on their faces. As luck would have it, all the men lived fairly close, making the two-hour window doable.
"What do we know?" Dillon asked from the backseat, perched in the middle seat between his brother, Cale, and Spoon. Loco handled the driving. The farthest backseats had been put down in order to make room for their gear, allowing the men more legroom.
Night rambled off what few details his mother gave him, seething in fury at the fact his father had sold him and his mother out to an opportunistic thief turned kidnapper. Shock didn't describe his reaction when his mother said the intruder cited his drunken father as the primary culprit for