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“We’re going to find her.”
“Hack the cameras,” I snap, charging up to the massive window and looking out at the back end of the building. Jay sits on the edge of the bed, briefly looking at it like he’s sitting in a cesspool of DNA, then cracks open his laptop and gets to work.
I peer through the grime and find the black van sitting right at the parking lot exit, abandoned. My fists clench, noting the bashed-in fender and damage to the driver’s side of the vehicle.
I’m two seconds away from losing my shit again and punching the window, so I work to decompress, closing my eyes and cracking my neck.
Keep it together, I chant to myself. Over and over and until I regain control. I’ve seen some fucked-up shit in my life, more than most could handle, yet Addie's abduction is the worst thing I've ever experienced. There is no control anymore. Though with her, there never really fucking was.
I will gladly pour gasoline on everything in my path and set it aflame, if only it leads me back to my mouse.
“Zade, you’re not going to want to see this… but you need to.”
Chapter 11
The Hunter
Baby, what have I told you about lashing out when you’re angry?
Why is it now, the remnants of my mother's voice plague me? Destruction is right beyond my fingertips, just waiting to be set free. It would be as simple as flicking a lighter, igniting a small flame that would lead to obliteration.
“Zade?” Jay’s voice cuts through my mother’s whispers, fading like wisps of cigarette smoke.
Speaking of, I shove my hand in my hoodie pocket, snatch one out of the packet, and light up.
Jay’s mouth opens, poised over words I honestly don’t want to hear right now.
“Don’t tell me not to smoke, and don’t ask me if I’m okay,” I cut in, voice hoarse with rage.
His mouth clicks shut, and he nods, looking back at the video of Addie fighting for her life, time-stamped seven days ago. The cameras don’t have audio, so while I’m unaware of the reasoning for the doctor trying to kidnap her, it doesn’t change the fact that he tried. M
ade clear by him quickly urging her out of bed, and her resistance the entire way.
She ambushed him with a scalpel of some sort, and he attacked her in retaliation. Only for the back of his head to be blown off while on top of her.
And while that is incredibly traumatizing, that’s not the part that has me boiling with rage. It’s the asshole that killed the doctor, then followed her up the stairs and watched her fucking shower.
Rio.
Daya has done her research, and while there was plenty to find on Rick Boreman—there’s almost nothing on Rio, outside of being born and raised in Puerto Rico, his school records, then migrating to the United States when he was eighteen. From there, she could find almost nothing on him. Only the apartment he rents, and two speeding tickets.
I call bullshit on that.
“Kind of weird this guy has cameras in his room only facing his shower and bed,” Jay mumbles, more to himself. I’m too busy inhaling a cigarette like it’s giving me life rather than taking it. If I watch that video again, I’ll be liable to whip out my gun and shoot the monitor until it’s nothing but shards of plastic and metal.
Jay’s fingers fly across the keyboard so quickly, I think I see flakes of his purple nail polish flying off. The video feed from when Addie was here disappears, and in its place are archived recordings that span back several years.
Whoever this guy is, he’s been illegally practicing for decades. Several times a month, injured people are brought to him—people that look like they’re up to no good.
I flick my cigarette to the ground and crush it beneath my boot, blowing out smoke as I watch Jay skip through several recordings. Just as I lift my boot to kick away the butt, I freeze and clench my jaw, hearing Addie's smart mouth even now.
Stop littering.
This place will be ashes by the time I’m done, but I said I would stop, so I will.
I pick up the butt, stuff it in my pocket, and force myself to refocus on the screen.
Several clips of women showering display on the screen, and with each passing video, my teeth clench harder and harder until every bone in my face threatens to crack.
