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My jaw drops. Mr. Wilder was Tommy’s spy?
The old man frowns. “Why are you manhandling Kate? You told me she was hiding from a psychopath.”
Tommy pulls out his gun and points it at Mr. Wilder’s face. “If I hear another word from you?—”
Mr. Wilder’s palms rise in surrender, and he ambles toward the door on the left. “Alright, alright. I’m going.”
“Good man.” Tommy’s grip around the back of my neck tightens, and he marches me toward the exit. As we reach the door, he leans close and snarls, “Open it.”
My heart sinks. It’s really happening. Roman is probably halfway back to New Alderney, and if what Tommy says is correct, the men he stationed close by are already dead.
As I pull the door open, Tommy whirls around and fires several shots at Mr. Wilder.
Adrenaline kicks me in the heart. I scream, my ears ringing, and dart into the street. Surely someone must be looking out of the window for the source of the sound?
At this time in the late afternoon, most residents of my street are either away for the weekend or inside watching TV. I don’t have a plan, but I tear toward the road. Maybe I can flag down a car.
A burly figure appears from my right and grabs me off my feet.
I scream, “Let go of me?—”
He clamps a huge hand over my mouth. Before I can even struggle, he’s bundling me through the open doors of a van and throws me inside.
I land on my hands and knees, just as the door slams shut and encases me in the dark. Terror grips me by the throat, cutting off my air. My heart pounds so hard and fast that it feels like it might burst.
My mind dredges up every nightmare scenario Mom used to frighten me into compliance. Men coming to take me away and subject me to gags, ropes, starvation, and locked rooms. It’s only a matter of time before Tommy takes me to a dingy hideout, and I’ll never see Roman again.
I pound against the van’s metal doors. “Help! Please, somebody help.”
The vehicle lurches forward, and I’m hurled onto my side. Pain lances through my shoulder, making me gasp. I struggle to pull myself up, but the van takes a sharp turn that throws me onto my front.
Light streams in from a hatch above my head, and I look up to see the driver’s silhouette. Tommy’s face looms into view, flashing those sinister white teeth.
“You can either shut the fuck up, or I can shoot you in the shoulder. The way this asshole is driving, I might miss and hit something vital.”
My stomach plummets.
The driver snickers.
“What’s it going to be?” he asks.
My survival instincts take control, and I freeze. Tommy is using me to lure Roman or as some kind of bargaining chip. This doesn’t necessarily mean he needs me alive.
“I’ll stay quiet,” I rasp.
“Smart move.” He slides the hatch shut.
The van makes a few turns before rumbling down the highway. I wrap my arms around my belly, sending comfort to my baby. For his sake, I need to stay calm, stay alert, and watch closely for an opening.
As soon as their backs are turned, I will escape.
SEVENTY-THREE
EMBERLY
Every meditation technique I learned from my birthing class helps slow down my heartbeat until I can finally think through the panic. My eyes are closed, and I sit with my back against the wall for support.
There’s no mistaking that Tommy is a mad dog with a vendetta. He either despises the Montesano family as much as my bio father did or is desperate to claw back Roman’s assets. And I’m both a meal ticket, a pawn, and a weak link.
