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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Olivia lay on Fletcher’schest, staring into the darkness. Never in all the scenarios she’d imagined had she ever considered Simon might kidnap their daughter.
Wasit kidnapping if he was her father?
In her mind it was.
The cops were searching for him, but they weren’t treating it as an official kidnapping yet. Why not? His employer hadn’t heard from him, and Emma, his wife, was also missing.
Had he snapped?
Were they alive?
She just didn’t fucking know.
Fletcher was gently breathing, which meant he had finally fallen asleep. It had been thirty-seven hours—yes, she was counting every single one of them—since she’d run into his office. Between the two of them, they’d probably had about ten hours sleep.
Or even less.
They were both a mess.
She didn’t know how she could have handled this without him. He had been her rock through this, and while it wasn’t over and she had no idea how it was going to end, she was so grateful he was there.
She just couldn’t imagine her life without Fletcher now. Him or Sammy.
She let out a little sob, pushing her face into the pillow so as not to wake Fletcher.
If only they could find her little girl and bring her home. Whoevertheywere.
She didn’t care who the people were that Fletcher had hired, as long as they saved Sammy.
Then she had to find a way to keep Simon out of their lives once and for all. She didn’t know how, but she was sick of being controlled.
And now he’d shown his true colors.
First, they had to find Sammy.
Fletcher’s arms tightened around her as if knowing she needed the comfort even as he slept. She closed her eyes, leaning into him further.
Then, what felt like minutes, but in fact was about an hour later, Fletcher’s phone rang.
He shot up and grabbed it like there was a bomb about to explode.
“Dufort,” he answered, then cleared his voice from sleep.
She didn’t know who they were, but a dark voice said very clearly, “We have her. Alive.”
