Chapter 43

Soloman checked his phone for what felt like the thousandth time. Hell, it probably was the thousandth time. He knew there was nothing. He had the volume turned high. He would've heard immediately if info guy had sent another satellite image of the speeding Charger or a text with directions. He glanced over at Roman's phone. Nothing.

He clenched his fist and checked the urge to punch the dashboard. It wasn't the Mustang's fault they were an hour behind Manuel. He fucking refused to imagine the things a man like that could do to his woman in that time. It made his guts burn with an unholy, vengeful fire.

He'd nearly murdered the priest in Tijuana when he'd described the fucked-up wedding ceremony Manuel had forced on Riley. It was everything Roman could do to peel Soloman off the man and away from the church before he burned a holy place to its sacred ground. How could a man of the cloth let his beautiful, sweet girl be treated in such an evil way?

She's been drugged.

Pain cut throu