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“No, Ry.” His expression. I don’t want to see it. He’s wrong. Charlie will be home any minute.
“No, Cole. She’s on her way home.”
“Fuck.” He grits his teeth, pain etching into his features. “Georgia just called. Someone pepper sprayed them in the parking lot. They took Charlie.”
NO.
Not Charlie. It can’t be right. She’s coming home and she went shopping and she’s going to show me everything—
“Come on.” Cole grabs my arm, tugging me out of the apartment. “We’re meeting in the conference room. Leo is on his way to pick up Georgia.”
Everything feels disconnected. Unreal. Wrong. As Cole tows me down the hallway, his horrible words keep coming.
“Georgia called Leo as soon as she could. Only minutes after. She heard someone threaten to kill her if Charlie didn’t go. Leo is getting all the details from her, anything she can remember.”
“Finn is already downstairs, he’s calling Beth and Tex. We’ll start searching security cameras, CCTV footage, all of it.”
I dimly realize we’re outside the conference room when Cole comes to an abrupt stop. “Rylan.” His voice is a whip cracking. “You need to get it together.”
How can I? This isn’t supposed to be happening. Charlie is supposed to be safe. Here. With me.
“Rylan.” Cole leans close, his gaze burning into mine. “I know. I know. But it’s happening, and you need to get it together. We need your help.”
Shit. Damn. Fuck.
He’s right. I shove down the horror, the fear, the disbelief, and force my brain into combat mode. A place where only logic and planning and uncompromising focus exist. A place I need to be if I want to help Charlie.
“What about her tracker?” I shove into the conference room, my eyes jumping to Finn on the computer. “Is it working? Did she trigger it? I didn’t get an alert.”
“There’s nothing,” he says, scowling at the screen. “The last ping was at the restaurant, and now it’s just… gone.”
I snap, “How is that possible? They’re supposed to do something. Alert if they’re tampered with. They can’t be turned off. How did she just disappear with them on?” I’m nearly shouting at the end of it—what is the point of these damn things if they can’t keep Charlie safe?
“Leo is getting the security footage from the restaurant while he gets Georgia.” Cole glances down as his phone buzzes. “I contacted the police, but we need more information—the type of car, description of the person—hopefully Georgia will be able to give us some of it.”
Fuck. We have no information and we’re waiting on Georgia, who is undoubtedly traumatized and may or may not have seen anything. “Fuck.”
I keep pacing, wearing a track in the carpet around the table, until Cole bites out a low curse. “I just heard from my contact at the State Police. Morgan jumped bail this morning.”
Would she? Could this Morgan take it a step further? Not just content to ruin Charlie’s life, but to take her? Hurt her?
“Let’s not assume.” Cole looks over at me, keeping his tone calm and pacifying. “She may have nothing to do with this.”
“I just let Tex know,” Finn adds. “He’s going to search for her. You know he can find anyone.”
Bile rises in my throat. We thought the threat was gone. And I just watched Charlie leave the apartment unprotected. I should have gone with her. We should have waited longer. I should have done something.
I failed her again.
This waiting is torture. “I should go to the restaurant. Talk to everyone there.” And what about Morgan? “Is someone watching Caroline’s house? Would Morgan go there?”
“Leo has the surveillance footage,” Cole reminds me. “He’ll be here any minute. And the police are sending someone to check Caroline’s place.”
“Leo’s back,” Finn reports, looking up from the computer. “He just keyed in his code at the back door.”
Two agonizing and impotent minutes later, Leo comes into the room, Georgia tucked into his side. He’s vibrating with anger, his expression murderous. Her eyes are red and swollen, tears pouring down her flushed face. She squints at me and sobs, “I’m so sorry! I tried to grab her, but I couldn’t see anything.”
“Georgia needs to get this off her.” Leo sounds about two seconds from exploding.
