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Hearing this information feels… foreign. I’m not used to being discussed. I’m not the person who steps into the spotlight. That’s always been Dex. I’ve been the man in the shadows. I work behind the scenes, not in front.

“People want to see Vinny dead,” Dex adds. “We’ve discussed other options, but the consensus is all the same.”

“So, it’s been decided?” I ask. “A death sentence has been issued?”

“Signed by all who matter.”

“Poor bastard,” I say under my breath.

“Stupid bastard,” Dex corrects. “His ego, his narcissism, and his lack of intelligence got him in this position. Like I said, he’s fucked too many people and now everyone is using this opportunity to seek their own revenge.”

I hear the sound of the bird again. But this time, I really listen. Something’s off.

Is it a bird?

I pause and still my breathing. I hear chirping from nearby robins and goldfinches, I hear the buzz of insects and the croak of a frog, and I hear—

I hear the sound again, but this time I have no doubt in my mind that what I’m hearing is a scream.

Rowan’s scream!

“Fuck!” I shout into the phone as I storm down the mountain toward the house. “Rowan’s yelling for help. They found us. The Lucianos fucking found us.” My gut and the sound of terror in her howl tells me all I need to know. It’s obvious by the next scream that this is the cry for help. She’s in danger. She’s under attack.

“Where are you? I’ll send—” Dex’s voice cuts off as the signal is lost as I sprint toward Rowan faster than I’ve ever run in my life.

I’m cursing myself for being so far. Why did I leave her alone? I know better than this.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hold on, baby. Fight those fuckers off.

I’m mentally preparing to kill a man or multiple men if I need to, especially if they hurt Rowan. My job doesn’t require me to be a killer, but I will.

I will slaughter anyone who puts her at risk. My wrath won’t be merciful.

Another cry ricochets off the serenity around. Rowan’s cry! I can’t get there quick enough. I can’t make my legs move faster. The scream pierces the mountain air again and I at least know she’s still alive, but I’m helpless right now as all I can do is run into the unknown.

Turning a bend, I can now see the house below. Driving away, surrounded in a cloud of dust, is a black van. The screaming has stopped.

Oh my god… Rowan could be in that van. Either she’s in the van or she’s hurt in the house. Or… Jesus fucking Christ… she could be dead.

The thought of all three possibilities nearly collapse my legs as I continue to fly down the mountain in hopes that she isn’t lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood. Please, God, don’t have her be dead. But at the same time, please don’t let her be kidnapped.

There’s no possible good outcome of what I’m about to discover as I charge into the house, not giving a fuck if someone is waiting there for me with a gun in hand. My life doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is Rowan.

I wheeze for air as the reality hits me. The house is empty.

Nothing is left but the signs of a struggle. Furniture is overturned but no blood is present. No one died in this room. If she was dead, there would be signs of it.

Chaos swirls around me. I’m trying to focus on what to do next even though panic is nearly crippling my entire body. One thing is certain, however.

Rowan is alive… for now.

I grab the keys and sprint into the Jeep to see if I can chase them down. I know the attempt to find them is futile because too much time has passed from when they left and when I actually made it off the fucking mountain, but I have to try. I have to do something. At the very least I need to make it back into town and call Dex.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I pound my hands on the steering wheel.

Hold on, baby. I’m coming.

Chapter Sixteen

ROWAN

We’ve been driving long enough that the terror I’d felt when the Luciano goons had snatched me has subsided, leaving me more angry than panicked. This entire mess is because of that piece of shit, JV, and his inability to act like a human instead of an animal. Knowing that the jerks in the front seats of the van were loyal to the would-be rapist helps to push my fear aside so I can focus on breaking free. They’re going to have to pay for their mistakes just as JV did.

For the first time since they snatched me, I think of Z with a smile instead of my fear of never seeing him again. The cleaner has clearly rubbed off on me in our sequestered time together because I find myself thinking, ‘what would Z do?’

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