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What was she going to do now?
Dawg had taught her and her sisters how to fight. He and their cousins had taught them how to survive in the mountains. But she had no idea how to survive here, in this dark alley, without a weapon.
The vibration of her phone had her turning it in her hand, staring at it in breathless hope.
Lyrie, this is Kye. My phone is acting really wonky. Using Graham’s. Where the hell are you? I’ve tried to call all day.
The text shocked her.
Kye? Kye had gotten through?
Graham would know what to do. He would get hold of Alex. Someone. He would help her. He had sworn he would come if she needed him.
Desperation spurred her as she quickly typed back.
Kye. Need Graham. In trouble. Help me!
Would it go through? Oh god, please let it go through. She watched the bar, nearly crying out as the “Delivered” message showed next to the text.
What if he refused to help her? He wasn’t too happy with her but, god, she needed him now.
She was dead if he didn’t find a way to save her. And she really didn’t think she’d like being dead.
—
Graham stared at the text, his senses hardening, turning to ice at the realization that Lyrica was in trouble.
“Graham,” Kye whispered, her face pale.
Graham dialed Lyrica’s number quickly before hitting the speaker option and hearing his call go straight to voice mail.
Inputting the secure encryption key on the stealth phone, he quickly dialed her number again.
“Kye. Kye, please help me.” Terror lanced through her tear-filled voice and shoved a dull blade through his chest. Her voice came quickly across the line. “I’ve called everyone. No one’s call is going through.”
“Where are you, Lyrica?” He was moving as he spoke, watching the readout on the screen of his phone and hitting the jamming signal that would keep the call from being tracked even as the program tracked her location. “Quickly.”
“Graham?” The hope, the terror in her voice ripped through his guts like a dull blade.
“Quickly, Lyrica,” he snapped.
“London.” Her voice was hushed, shaking. “I don’t know where. I was running, trying to get away. It’s a brick building, down an alley close to the new London Suites in town. I’m behind a Dumpster. Some guys are trying to kill me! They haven’t found me yet.”
“I have your GPS. Turn the phone off and pull the battery now, Lyrica. And don’t fucking move. If you have to run again, find a safe place, insert the battery again for three minutes, then pull it. You hear me? I’m coming for you, honey. I’m just a minute away.” He tried to reassure her. “Now do as I said.”
“Graham? Please hurry.” The whimper of terror had his guts turning to mush as he grabbed his duffel bag from his bedroom closet and raced to the front door.
“Do as I said, now. They’re tracking you and I won’t be able to block it for long once I leave the house. Pull that fucking battery and stay where you are. I’m on my way.”
The call disconnected.
“Graham, what’s going on?” Kye was rushing behind him, fear filling her voice as well, though she spoke low, nearly whispering, as he jerked the door of his car open and threw the duffel bag in it.
“Stay here.” Turning on her, he caught her shoulders in his hands and gave her a quick little shake as he spoke just loud enough for her to hear him. “Do not use your phone, Kye, it’s being monitored. Do you understand me?”
Frightened gray eyes widened, dilating with shock and fear at the information.
“Why?”
