She isn't going anywhere else.
I've already implemented part of my plan to keep her here. I haven't asked her to formally move in yet, but I was hoping to suggest it tonight.
“Fingers crossed,” I grin.
Thalia joins us from the bar, her arms loaded down with beers. “My basement is still up for grabs if she doesn't want to stay in Rowan’s bed.”
I give my sister a blasting look. “Stop offering my girlfriend your basement, Thalia.”
She sets the drinks down before plopping beside me. “One day she’ll say yes.”
Dominic is next to join our steadily growing crowd. He pulls a chair from a nearby table and situates himself beside Blair. He stays quiet as he sips his neat whisky.
“Any word from Theo?” My sister asks him with a smirk and a nudge of her elbow.
He takes a slow sip of his drink. “No.”
“A man of many words,” Thalia laughs.
I check my phone, frowning when I notice the ten minutes have passed and there’s no word from Addison.
“She’s coming,” my sister rolls her eyes, but her breeziness does nothing to quiet the dread mounting in me, a sick pressure churning in my gut.
There’s a loud buzzing from the kill catalog that causes the whole bar to go quiet. The sound sets off a domino effect. Patrons set their drinks aside as all eyes stray to the blinking screen. Even Dale pauses in the madness, his hands stalling as he cleans a glass.
“Holy shit,” Thalia mumbles. “Someone collected a live target. I didn't even know there was one up for grabs.”
Live targets arerare.
They’re usually placed by people who want to kill the target themselves, but don't know where to find them.
Or by peoplelookingfor someone.
As the picture of familiar dark hair and pouty lips fills the screen, my whole world slams to a halt. The picture is dated, but Addison’s smiling face is unmistakable. It’s the image that plays on repeat in my dreams.
I slowly rise from my chair, the image of my girl burning into my retinas as the word ‘collected’ blinks in deep red across the bottom of the screen.
“Addison?” Loxley asks in shock, but her voice is a distant hum to me.
My heart slams so slowly that I hear it in my ears with everythud. It takes all of two seconds before my boots are stomping across the bar. I head for the exit, urgency screaming through my fucking veins as I throw the doors open and takeoff in a sprint across the compound.
Behind me, I can hear the yelling of my family to slow down, but I can't. All I can think of isAddison.
My whole being shouts with confusion and desperation, pushing me to blindly step over the threshold of my home. I throw the front door open, immediately jolted by the lack of warmth and light. It’s like the space is dead—no signs of life whatsoever.
“No, no, no,” I chant, my whole chest feeling like it’s caving in as I take the staircase. “Sunshine! Addison!” I shout, my voice echoing through the halls that remain still and silent.
This can't be happening.
Not happening.
I tear through the rooms, my breath becoming more labored and ragged with every empty chamber. I only stop my rampage when I near the office and see the signs of a struggle.
I hesitate in the doorway, my knees almost giving out at the mess cluttering the floor. The office chair is tipped over, and everything that once made up our shared desk is strewn in a cluster of chaos.
Someonetookher.
The room tilts, and I slap my hands to my temples. I have tobreathe. I have tothink.
