Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Your father did not kill my husband.”
“No,” I say. “He only ordered the hit. You killed him by empowering my father to do so. Maybe you even knew. Maybe you want Alana dead to inherit her money.”
She gasps indignantly. “I beg your pardon. Are you serious right now?” She waves a finger in the air and points toward the door. “You need to leave.”
“He will kill her, and if you have any motherly instinct left, you need to tell me where she is.”
“He’s not going to kill her,” she snaps. “I would never allow Alana to be in danger.”
There it is. Her admission. She’s involved. I go cold inside at the brutality and callousness of the action that defies a mother’s need to protect their child. I’m back to ‘what a fucking bitch.’ I don’t hit women, but it’s all I can do not to shake her. “And yet, you set her up to be kidnapped by a man, who I know for a fact, has killed and will kill again to protect himself.”
She sneers at me. “He hasn’t killed anyone. You’re such a liar. I don’t know why Alana can’t see that.”
“Oh, he’s killed,” I assure her. “And he didn’t lose a wink of sleep over it, either. Anyone who is in his way dies. Alana is in his way. And you’re not only going to be an accessory to the crime, I bet they do true crime specials on you. You’ll finally be the star of the show. Think about that, because it’s coming. The only life my father is going to give you is one behind bars and one as the star of a show that reads something like, Bloody Mothers, that airs on Mother’s Day.”
There’s a flash of fear in her eyes, and I hope it slides inside her nice and deep and suffocates her eroding soul. I push to my feet. She follows me. “He’s not going to kill her. This is ridiculous. He’s just trying to scare her into silence.”
“Playing dumb just makes you look dumb. Where did he take her?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t even know he was going to take her at all. I thought—I didn’t know.”
“Call him. Find out.”
She lifts her phone and uses a trembling hand to punch in a number before she listens a moment. Her lips press together, and she lowers the phone, shaking her head. “No answer. I’m sure she’s okay. Maybe she’s in my house. The code to get in is 1225. Just go in and see.” She grabs her purse. “I’m coming, too.”
She’s going nowhere but to hell.
I step away from the table and start walking, only to find Savage waiting for me at the door. I exit the shop first, and he follows. “Well?”
“She knew my father was going to scare Alana. She says she didn’t know he was going to take her. She’s full of shit.” We reach the vehicle, and I climb inside with Savage on my heels to find Blake sitting across from us.
“Tell me you found her,” I demand.
“Still looking,” Blake says tightly. “She has to be in the building.”
I feel this announcement with a punch in the gut. “Her mother gave me the code to her apartment. I need whoever is closest to that apartment to go in and see if Alana is there now, right now.”
“Already done,” Blake replies. “I hacked it. She’s not there.”
My chin lowers to my chest with the impact of the words, and Blake speaks over his shoulder. “Back to the building,” he instructs the driver.
“How the hell did they get past you?” I demand.
“They were already in the building,” he says. “It’s the only way. In one of the apartments where Alana has to be now. We’re going to have to go door-to-door to find her. I’m pulling up the floor plans now to dig into who lives where.”
My mind processes the implications of what he’s just said to me. Blake believes she’s still in the building, that we still have a chance to find her, to save her. And I want to believe him. With every part of me, I want to believe him.
I tell myself Walker is too good for her to be anywhere else. But there’s a clawing sensation inside me, scraping away at the dread and fear, consuming every pore of my existence. What if Blake is wrong? What if Alana’s gone and I never get her back?
Chapter Thirteen
Alana
I wake with a gasp and sit up ramrod straight, disoriented by thick shadows and cool air, with a low hum in my ears. I blink twice before I realize that I’m not only queasy, but on top of a strange twin-sized bed in a room I don’t recognize. Adrenaline surges through me, and I throw my legs off the side of the bed to stare at a shut door. Spots float in front of me for a moment, but I somehow manage to check my body and ensure I’m not naked. I’m not, thank God, and somehow, I’m clear-minded enough to know I’m still wearing the jeans I’d changed into at the Jersey safe house.