Didn’t know why she’d feel like her life was in danger with me. I’d rather cut my fingers off with a rusty spoon than hurt her.

Didn’t know why she’d need a restraining order.

Or how she’d got it so fast.

Not unless it was something she already had in the works. Like after I’d admitted to the bar fight with Glitch. Or after I’d told her about what Mayhem did. She hadn’t seemed upset, but maybe she’d been right earlier. Maybe I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.

She did have that meeting all afternoon yesterday…

Even as I thought it, I knew it wasn’t possible. Mac wouldn’t turn on me. I trusted her. There had to be another explanation. I’d figure it out.

And I’d start by finding her.

Climbing into my car, I quickly checked my security camera footage. It was a punch to the gut when I saw Mac rushing from my house earlier, but that was the last sighting of her. With the way they were positioned, my cameras didn’t catch her house.

I called Glitch. “Can you access Mac’s doorbell camera?”

“Not without her info. Why?”

I didn’t answer. “What about her cell?”

He typed as I rattled off the numbers. “It’s a burner. Untraceable.

What the hell?

Hanging up on him, I dialed Judge as I drove to the clubhouse.

“You find her?” he asked.

“Not yet. Put everyone on high alert. I’ll explain when I get there.”

Clicking off, I drove in silence, going through everything before going through it again. My gut said something was off—more than the clusterfuck of something I already knew about.

I kept thinking about the detective.

What he’d told me.

What he’d warned me about.

And that was it. That was the part I couldn’t get past.

Setting my own bullshit aside, I thought about it again without the betrayal and hurt clouding my mind.

I may have had a few inches of height on him, but he’d still managed to look down his nose at me. Even if Mac had filed a restraining order, a detective like him wouldn’t have done a damn thing to help me. He sure as shit wouldn’t have given me a heads-up.

I was a minute out from the clubhouse, but I whipped the wheel to the side, my tires squealing as I turned around. I called Glitch again.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asked.

“Check my cameras. Front and back for the whole night.”

Since Glitch already had my info, keys clicked in the background. “What the fuck?”

“What is it?”

“There was some fucker lurking in your backyard this morning.”

“What’s he look like?”