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“Let me guess, Bartlett.”
He nodded.
“What’s he want?”
“Me.”
As soon as he said it, the directions popped up on the screen.
“Let’s go.”
Vic shook his head. “No. He said for me to come alone.”
“No fucking way.” Justin crossed his arms over his chest.
“Be reasonable.”
“Oh, that’s fucking rich. Sure. I’ll be reasonable as soon as you tell me you aren’t about to exchange your life for hers.”
He said nothing because that was precisely what he was going to do.
“When will you accept that you don’t have to do everything by yourself? And it’s stupid to go in there alone, man. You need backup.”
He closed his eyes and tried to work around the fear crawling beneath his skin. Vic knew it was suicide, knew that there was a good chance if he went in alone, he would die. Worse, with no backup, he put Addison at risk. Drawing in a deep breath, then released it. When he felt his heart calm, Vic opened his eyes.
“Okay, you come, but you must do exactly what I want.”
Justin nodded.
Vic went to his safe, pulled out one of his guns, and tossed another to Justin.
“Bullets are in my bedroom. Let me get changed, and I’ll meet you out front.”
“Then we go get Addy.”
He nodded. As he walked up the stairs to his room, he knew without a doubt that he or Bartlett would be dead by this end. One thing was certain, whatever happened, he would make sure Addison survived.
It was the one thing he could promise himself.
ChapterThirteen
The smell of rotting fish hit Addy’s senses even before she opened her eyes. She hated the musty smell. Her stomach rolled over, but she fought back the bile rising in her throat.
Wait, why was she smelling fish?
She slowly opened her eyes, and bright light assaulted her.
“Dammit,” she muttered, slamming her eyelids shut.
“What a dirty mouth for such a pretty girl,” a voice that sounded like crushed gravel said.
She tried to lift her arms but couldn’t. She forced her eyes open again. When her eyes could finally focus, she realized she was in a warehouse. Addy looked down. She was sitting in a chair with her wrists tied to the arms of the chair. She tried to move her feet and found they were also secured. Where the hell was she?
“It’s about time you wake up,” the voice said again. That voice, she remembered if from before, the man who showed up at her house.
“Over here,” the man said again. She glanced to her left and found him leaning up against a pillar.
“What is happening?”
