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Those aren’t...wait.
I stare at the numbers. Pull up a new window. Type them in.
The picture the web browser shows is the front gate of an apartment complex.
My apartment complex.
“What the fuck,” I mutter, sure I did something wrong. This is human error. Has to be. There is no way those bastards kidnapped Lindsay from her parents’ estate and took her to my place.
When something makes no sense, backtrack. Double check. Verify.
I do.
Same result.
“What the hell are they doing with her in my apartment?” I say loudly.
Too loudly.
“What’s going on?” Silas is outside the open window, eyes sharp.
“I found her. Maybe.”
“Maybe? There’s no maybe with a tracking chip, Drew. You mean you found where they had her?”
I squint. Not hard when you only have one functional eye, but it hurts. “Looks like the chip passed my complex’s RFID scanner about two hours ago.”
“She’s at your apartment complex?” he asks, confused. Then he whips around on me, hand moving to his weapon. “Why?” Silas’ entire demeanor changes.
“How the hell do I know? They’re not at the Island. Is that where Paulson is? Did he take off to try to rescue her while I was still detained?”
“Don’t know.”
“Silas.”
“I seriously do not know, Drew.”
“I need to get to Lindsay before they move her.”
“Why did they bring her to your apartment in the first place?”
“Why do you think?” The realization crawls over my body.
He reels. “They’re setting you up for her murder.”
Chapter 4
Lindsay
I become intimately acquainted with the fibers on the bedspread in Drew’s bedroom. When you’re stuck face down, bound by the wrists behind your back while wearing skin-tight clothes, you find ways to calm down.
Not that any of those ways work.
It’s hopeless to try to manage my racing brain. Resilience is a useful trait when there’s hope.
It’s horrifying when any chance of escape is gone.
The mind can calculate, bargain, analyze and shift, taking in new information and discarding old as it figures out how to get back to an even-keeled state. The body, too. My muscles find micro-changes to help lessen the pain, spasms leading to more deep breathing than you’d find in a yoga class or at a pot rally.
