“Tell them to fucking move, NOW!” I take the steps three at a time, burst through this miserable place, out the front door. My feet hit the path that winds down toward the beach.
Behind me, officers are shouting, trying to follow.
Too slow. They don’t have the woman they love kidnapped by a sick fuck about to vanish without a trace if they don’t catch him right now.
My breath catches as I run. The path is steep, treacherous in the foggy sunset. My boots slip on loose gravel. I catch myself on a tree, push off, keep going.
The ground drops away, and my feet grind to a halt at the edge of a cliff. “What the fuck?”
Below: a small dock. Hidden in the rocks behind a private inlet among the dunes. Invisible unless you know exactly where to look. And there—already fifty yards out—a boat, sailing fast into the fucking sunset.
Dark figure at the helm. Butterfly mask catching the dying light. On the deck, a shape wrapped in blankets. Not moving.
I point my gun at the engine. “POLICE! STOP THE BOAT!”
He doesn’t even slow down.
The distance is too far. The boat is rocking. She’s right there near him, and I could hit her, I could—
My hands shake. I can’t take the shot. My heart squeezes as I scream, “BIRDIE!”
He turns and fucking waves at me. That piece of shit is taunting me.
My eyes catch something in his hand. Small. Black. A single red light blinking on top.
Blood rushes out of my body. No.
“GET BACK!” I’m already running back toward the hideout entrance. “EVERYBODY OUT! IT’S WIRED! HE’S GONNA BLOW THIS PLACE UP! GET OUT NOW!”
The officers look at me like I’m insane.
"MOVE!" I grab the nearest one, physically shove him away. “RUN!”
There are still men down there. Still officers in that room with the butterflies and the table and—
BOOM!
The world turns white. I’m airborne and weightless. Then my back hits rocks. I tumble, the ground disintegrating beneath me.
Heat. Impossible heat. A roar that devours everything.
I’m rolling, falling, burning up, until my head cracks against unyielding hardness. The world fractures into pieces. I see sky. Gold. Beautiful. I see smoke. Black. Rising.
And then I see nothing at all.
CHAPTER 31
Birdie
My mind claws its way out of the grave of sedation. The fog peels away in strips. It leaves residue behind my eyes. A metallic taste is thick on my tongue. When I try to swallow, my throat protests with a raw burn that makes me gag.
I’ve always hated this feeling. It brings bad memories.
Nausea rolls through my stomach. My limbs are so heavy I can’t move them. Is it the sedative or am I pinned to another table?
Panic flares on mute. The drugs are still in my system, dulling everything. Even fear feels like it’s inside someone else.
Where am I now?
