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For the next twenty minutes, I let myself pretend this was normal. Just a man having breakfast with two women who'd become family, talking about everyday things. Jerome came in and told us all how the Tennessee teams had done over the weekend. Miss Laverne updated me on her quilting project. Delilah complained about her physical therapy exercises. Nobody mentioned stalkers or death threats or the weight of keeping everyone safe.

My phone buzzed with a text from Joy.

JOY: Missing you. Jase says you better bring donuts when you come back.

Smiling, I typed back a quick response when my phone rang.

Unknown number. I had a bad feeling. Not a telemarketer bad feeling. A Spidey sense bad feeling.

“Excuse me, ladies. I need to take this.”

I stepped onto the front porch, swiping to answer.

“Wallace.”

The voice coming through the speaker wasn't human. Digitally altered, robotic, terrifying in its mechanical precision.

“Time's up, Navy man. I'm done waiting. I'm done playing games. I will have Joy today, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.”

The line went dead.

I was already moving, my heart hammering against my ribs. My fingers flew over my phone screen, hitting Jase's contact.

He answered on the second ring.

“I want maple bars,” he said.

“Cut the shit. I just got contacted. He plans to take Joy today.”

“Well, he can’t have her.”

“Lock every door. Every window. Don't open anything for anyone. I'm on my way.”

“On it.”

“Keep your eyes on Joy at all times.”

“Got it.”

I ended the call and immediately opened the group text.

GRAHAM: He called. Threatening to take Joy today. She's at Aiden and Evie’s place. Jase’s with her. I'm thirty minutes out. This is our chance to get him.

My phone started blowing up with texts.

SIMON: Calling backup. Stay on comms.

I burst back through the screen door. “I have to go. Emergency with Joy.”

Miss Laverne was already standing, her face pale with concern. “Is she hurt?”

“She’s fine. But I need to get to her now.”

“Go,” Delilah commanded from the kitchen. “Drive safe.”

I spun around and lunged out the kitchen door, the screen door slamming behind me as I sprinted for my truck. As soon as I was in, I had the engine roaring to life, and I reversed out of the driveway with tires spinning on gravel. The road from the Wylies’ to the O’Malley’s house wound through Tennessee hills, mostly straightaways with a few steep grades. I'd driven it dozens of times, knew every curve. Not the best roads to be driving like a NASCAR driver, but I didn’t give a shit. Joy’s life was on the line.

I pushed the speedometer past fifty, then sixty. Too fast for these roads, but not fast enough. My phone continued to buzz with updates from the group, but I ignored it. Every second counted.