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“Are you with Ellie?”
“What the fuck?” I demand. The sound of her name on his lips has fear ensnaring my heart. “Why are you asking?—”
“Fucking hell. We don’t have a lot of time.” Doyle begins speaking even faster. “I’m going to cut to the damn chase and say you need to hide Ellie. Now.”
“What the fuck?—?”
“Don’t ask me how I know this, but she was just put up for sale an hour ago. Listing 7042. Someone bought her. Shit. Fuck.” There’s the sound of something breaking in the background, followed by muffled voices. “I have to go.”
And then he hangs up.
I stare at the phone in stunned disbelief before slowly sliding my gaze to Beckett, who’s sitting closest to me. “Did you hear all that?”
He’s already pulling up the app on the phone we’ve been carrying around—Seth Clemmon’s, one of Ellie’s old security guards and a known member of POP.
My best friend’s face leeches of all color, and the sight has the world around me changing and distorting. Everything becomes painted in shades of gray, the monochromatic color appearing almost painful to my eyes, and voices turn muted and indistinct.
All at once, like water rushing from a shattered dam, everything returns to focus.
Just in time for my entire world to tilt on its axis.
“It’s true,” Beckett breathes in horror. “Ellie was just sold on the app.”
And then chaos erupts.
34
ELLIE
TEN MINUTES EARLIER
Everything realigns itself in Landon’s arms.
His touch allows me to believe, just for a second, that things aren’t as bad as they seem.
But then he pulls away, and reality doesn’t just slap me across the face. It punches me, stealing the breath from my lungs and leaving me disoriented.
“How are you holding up, kitten?” He gently captures my face in his palms and guides my eyes up to meet his.
“How do you think I’m holding up?” I bark out a humorless laugh. “I just discovered I have a mom I never knew about. Oh, and did I mention she’s the leader of a murderous cult that participates in human trafficking?” This time when I laugh, it borders on hysterical.
Insidious fear slithers through my mind and grasps my heart.
I have…a mom. A mom who is still alive.
But she’s an evil bitch who tortured me and many others.
And then there’s the whole thing with Fischer…
“Landon,” I whimper as tears sting my eyes. I want to ask him how I’m supposed to deal with this, what my next step should be, but the words dry in my throat.
Landon is just so fucking beautiful, it physically pains me to stare at him.
It’s an unmerciful, savage type of beauty usually reserved for wild animals. There’s a sort of merciless perfection to his features that intimidates me.
How can one look from him tear down my defenses, as if they’re nothing but papier-mâché?
How is it possible that the world could be falling to shit around me, yet I feel safe and secure in his arms?
