I know she despises what we do. Deep down, she thinks she’s better than us, smarter because she isn’t tied up in our sinister dealings.
A small part of me is glad she’s protected, naïve.
She rolls her lips together. There’s trepidation behind her features. “The bar guy, Jayden, seems like a long shot. I’d bet anything it’s Livia, the widow, behind Harper’s abduction.”
I bite down on my tongue.
I can’t know without a doubt, not yet. There isn’t any evidence, nothing to go on, and we can’t exactly reach out to the police.
“We take two teams and work out both leads. We can’t waste any time,” I say.
Dante watches me with enthusiasm, clearly pleased I’m taking the lead on my missing wife.
“Ashton is here already, but I’ll bring in Sophia and Liam. At the very least, they can help run down leads,” Dante says.
“Are there any of Luca’s friends you don’t intend to hire?” Nova snaps at my father.
“I would think you’d be happy for the extra bodies to scout the woods, make sure that Harper didn’t just get lost in the dark.”
I’d love to claim denial, but there’s no way Harper got turned around and couldn’t find the building. I don’t buy it. “That’s more than just a little highly unlikely. It’s impractical. Even if the light outside was out, there is enough light out front that she could have found her way to the parking lot and inside through the main doors. Someone took her.”
Dante sighs. “I agree as well, that seems the most likely scenario. The question is who.”
Two
Harper
Kicking and screaming did absolutely nothing and with the duct tape secured across my mouth, a black bag over my head, I have no idea where I am.
Time doesn’t feel as though it passes; it stretches on forever and stalls, like Father Time is a cruel trickster playing a joke.
It’s complete and utter darkness. The vehicle hums and roars, twisting through mountainous roads and then slows to a crawl.
Has it been minutes or hours?
Are we there?
The engine doesn’t shut off. We stall.
Are we stuck in traffic or waiting for something? I don’t hear the engine of a train, but we could be back several car lengths if we’re stuck waiting for one to pass.
The vehicle roars again, the driver heavy on the gas as I’m thrown around the backseat.
Time seems to stretch and expand, snap and bend.
My heart pounds wildly in my chest as I listen to the sounds; it feels like we’re on gravel and we finally pull to an abrupt halt.
The doors open and close and then I feel myself being dragged out of the vehicle and escorted up several steps.
I can’t speak. Can’t scream.
Fighting is useless with my arms secured behind my back, my vision blind, my mouth silenced.
Steps up.
Five.
Then hard flooring.
