Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
He crouched in front of me, eyes unreadable behind the mask. “You do what you’re told, you eat. You drink. You stay alive.”
Alive.
The word echoed long after he stood and walked away. The light clicked off. A door shut. A lock slid into place.
Darkness swallowed the room. I didn’t move for a long time.
My body trembled now that I was alone, the adrenaline crashing hard. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep warmth in, trying to keep my mind from splintering.
Okay. You’re here. You’re alive. You think. I tested the chain carefully. Solid. No give. The post didn’t budge. The concrete floor felt like ice beneath me.
I unfolded the blanket, laid it out as best I could, placed the pillow at one end. It was a kindness I didn’t trust, but I wasn’t foolish enough to refuse what little comfort was offered.
I didn’t lie down.
Not yet.
I sat with my back against the post, knees pulled to my chest, listening to the sounds of the building settling above me. A faint drip somewhere. The low hum of electricity. Maybe footsteps, or maybe my imagination filling in gaps.
My mind raced despite my efforts to slow it.
Someone knew.
That thought circled endlessly.
This wasn’t random. This wasn’t opportunity. This was targeted. Someone had known where I lived. Someone had known when I was alone. Someone had been watching long enough to plan.
And that meant—Dante was in danger too.
The image of his face flashed behind my eyes, sharp and immediate. His voice. His insistence on safety. His warning instincts that I half-dismissed because I didn’t want to live in fear.
I swallowed hard.
I didn’t want him hurt, but I also knew he would be aware of my absence soon enough. I knew that in my bones. He paid attention. Dante didn’t wait. He didn’t hope. He acted.
Which meant I had to do my part.
Stay alive.
Stay aware.
I cataloged everything I could remember. The drive. The turns. The sounds. The smell of the basement. The chain’s weight. The way the man spoke—controlled, calm, practiced.
Not panicked.
Not impulsive.
That scared me more than rage would have.
I hugged the blanket around my shoulders but didn’t lie down. Sleep was vulnerability. Sleep meant losing time. Losing awareness.
And right now, awareness was the only weapon I had.
I rested my head against the cold metal post, eyes open in the dark, listening.
Waiting.
And praying—quietly, fiercely—that somewhere, someone had seen something.
That the camera had worked.
That the man who did this for whatever reason left a trail behind him.
Because I wasn’t ready to disappear.
Chapter 20
Loco
Sleep didn’t come easy anymore. My body didn’t feel right not having her draped over me. Sleep wouldn’t wash over me like before.
It hadn’t since DC. Since her laugh in the kitchen. Since the way her body fit against mine like it had always been meant to. Even when I closed my eyes, my mind stayed half-awake, listening for a phone that might ring, a threat I couldn’t see yet.
I had gotten in late. Club business that dragged past midnight, the kind that required presence and patience and too much whiskey amongst men trying to make a deal. I crashed on the couch in my room at the clubhouse, boots kicked off, cut tossed over a chair, body heavy but wired.
The phone rang just before dawn.
I came awake instantly.
Not groggy. Not confused. My hand was already reaching before the second ring hit.
“Yeah,” I rasped.
“Dante.”
Char’s voice.
The sound of it—tight, brittle, shaking—ripped me straight back in time. Hospital hallways. ICU monitors. Blood on tile. Her crying into my chest while a rage built inside me that only a man’s death could soothe.
Something was wrong. I sat up, feet hitting the floor. “Char. Slow down. What’s happening?”
“I—I can’t reach her,” she stammered, breath hitching. “I’ve called her phone, her work line, her apartment. I went by this morning to drop something off and she didn’t answer. Her car’s in her spot, but she’s not here. It’s like she’s gone.”
The room tilted.
“What do you mean gone?” I asked, my voice already cold.
“She didn’t text me last night. She always texts me,” Char said, panic bleeding through every word. “Dante, something’s wrong.”
The world stopped.
Every sound dropped out. Every thought narrowed to a single point so sharp it hurt to breathe.
“Nita didn’t miss check-ins,” I stated. “Ever.”
“I know,” Char whispered. “I know.”
I was already moving. “Go home,” I told her. “Lock your doors. Stay with Eli. Keep the girls home and close. Don’t go anywhere.”
“What are you—”
“I’ll find her,” I said. It wasn’t a promise. It was a fact. “Can’t be distracted worrying over you. Get up with your man, have him home with you and your girls. I’ll be there in a matter of hours and I’ll find her.”
I hung up and grabbed my phone, fingers flying, pulling up the feed Dippy had set for me days earlier.
Her hallway.