Panic sets in. Why does he have me? My son? Where’s Trip?
“We’re going to meet someone, Ms. Branderwood. She has your child, and if you’re wise, you’ll let her do as she wants—if you want him to live.”
My heart races as a sick, sinking feeling attacks my stomach. I feel dizzy, nauseated, and so fucking terrified for my son.
We pull up to a stoplight, and a group of guys in a car look in at me. I want to scream, hold up my restrained hands, beg someone for help, but I know I can’t, not without risking the life of my son.
We drive off, leaving my one chance of rescue behind.
“Why are you doing this?” I whimper. “You’re supposed to be protecting me - protecting Trip. He’s just a baby.”
His cold stature doesn’t waver as he looks ahead.
“If you do as you’re told, your son will live.”
“But not me?” I ask, a knowing tone in my voice.
He doesn’t say anything, but he answers me with his silence. This will be the last night I live.
The car slows to a stop on the quiet, private beach, and he hops out to drag me from the car. I don’t fight him, scream, or make a move as we head down to the deserted section of the beach.
Only one house stands alone for several miles from what I can see. I’ve never even been here, and I have no idea where we are. I shouldn’t have drank so much, and then I wouldn’t have slept through my kidnapping.
“Is Tag alive?” I worry as the sudden realization he would have never let someone take me hits me.
“He’s still asleep,?
?? Russell’s gruffly answers. “I happen to be damn good with stealth.”
He sounds proud of himself—too proud. I regret telling Tag to let the security slack with Rene supposedly dead. It’s obvious now she’s not, and the fucking detective was in on it all along.
He grips me by the hair when his rushed pace forces me to stumble, and I let out a painful yelp when he jerks me too hard. He shows no mercy, no remorse, as he continues to painfully drag me down to the water.
The silhouette of a woman comes into view just as he throws me down, making my knees burn and grind against the harsh grit of the unforgiving sand.
I stare at her - her dress whipping in the wind as she carries a bundle in her arms.
Trip.
He’s too quiet, too wrapped. I get sick, worried, and dizzy as she nears. He doesn’t like strangers, but he’s not crying.
Then her face comes into view, and I turn pale as I stare up at her once she’s just a few feet away from me.
“It’s you,” I gasp in horror just before my breath intake grows panicked and shallow, forcing me to black out.
***
Tag
My arm stretches out to pull Ash to me, but her side of the bed is empty. I rise up, wiping my sleepy eyes, to see the pitch black night still in play.
“Ash?” I murmur a little loud, but she doesn’t answer.
I climb out of bed and check the bathroom to find it as dark and empty as her place on the bed.
She must not be able to sleep.
I head toward the kitchen, wondering if she got hungry, and I hear light chuckling coming from the closed doors of the den. I head in, expecting to find Ash, but run across Bity and Shannon instead.