I wake up to a rumbling in my belly and a killer fucking headache. The room is dark, but that means nothing. It could be high noon and I’d have no idea. I roll to my back and groan as my head swims and my jaw aches. My arm is attacked by pinpricks as blood rushes to my numb fingers.
“Nice of you to wake up.” Hatch, that motherfucker.
I ignore him until something he tosses at me lands on my belly. I look down and tears spring to my eyes.
My phone. Shattered into multiple pieces.
“You did it to yourself.” He stands and moves to the bathroom.
Finally alone, I allow the tears to flow freely. I’m never going to see him again. After this, Hatch won’t let me live. He knows I’ll go to the cops, turn his ass in, and tell them everything I know.
My search for Lana’s killer has become my death sentence. I’d laugh at the irony if it wasn’t so fucking sad. This is going to destroy my family.
The sound of running water muffles my cry as the reality of my situation hits me square in the chest. I wonder if this was how Svetlana spent her last few days: crying, begging for mercy that never came. Hoping beyond hope that God would deliver her. Or maybe she was strong. She always was, and she had faith that even the worst situations could never shake. Did she look her killer in the eyes and grind her teeth against the pain? Challenge them with her determination to die without giving them the satisfaction of knowing they’d broken her.
Hatch grabs my arm and frees me from the bed. “Come on, sunshine. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Part of my brain registers that this would be a good time to fight. Being free means I could claw at him, find his gun, and scream at the top of my lungs until he put a bullet in my head.
But I’m weak and tired. So fucking tired.
He carries me to the bathroom and sets me down. He lifts my dress over my head and pulls off my boy shorts before motioning to the steamy cascade. “Go on.”
I half expect him to follow me in, rape me, at the very least demand something from me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drops the lid on the toilet seat, sits down, and lights a smoke.
My toes hit the warm tub, and the heat sucks away every last bit of my energy. I sink to the floor of the dingy motel tub, pulling my knees to my face and wrapping my arms around my shins.
Dear Father in heaven, if this is it, if these are my last few days on this earth, please let them pass quickly. Have mercy on me in my death that it won’t be painful or messy. Comfort my family. They’ll need you now more than ever. And please, God, please . . . let Mason know that I love him, that he’s the only man I’ve ever loved, and that, even in death, I’ve dedicated my heart to him wholly and completely. Svetlana, moya sestra, moye serdtse. I will see you soon. Amen.
Thirty-six
Present day . . .
Mason
Could it be this easy? I stare at my phone and read the words again. Majestic Mountain Inn. Thirty-six miles outside of the city.
Unease stirs my gut, screaming that something ain’t right. This has to be a set up, but even if it is, I’ll walk right into a firing squad for the chance to get Trix back. I shove my phone into my pocket and watch as Rex spills a shoebox of ammo onto the table.
He tosses me a blade that I catch on the fly.
“We have to get the cops involved.” Gia stands off to the side of Rex, his rage making it clear to keep a safe distance.
Lane, who interrupted Rex’s full-fledged freak out, ended up being sent home with a sore jaw. Rex is radiating fury like I’ve never seen before only mirroring my own.
“No cops.” He pops a clip in his Sig and shoves it behind his belt.
Agreed.
“Rex, don’t risk—”
He slams his fist against the table, his glare aimed at her. “He hurt you. Who knows what the fuck he’s doing to Trix. I owe that woman my life for finding me when you were gone. No way we’re callin’ the cops. Not until I rip that fucker apart and beat him with his bloody limbs.”
The robotic tone to Rex’s voice matches the same detachment I feel in my head. It’s as if my body is protecting itself from total self-destruction, allowing it to stay separate from the whirling feelings that threaten to send me into chaos. No, this is a time for clear thinking.
Like the hours before a fight, calm, focused, a calculating predator with an appetite for annihilation.
The doorbell rings and Gia jumps.
“It’s alright.” He continues to fill his pockets with knives and ammo. “It’s Wade.”
“That’s good.” Her shoulders relax a little. “He’s level-headed. He’ll keep you from killing someone—”
“He’s not coming with.” Rex moves to the door while I continue to pace the kitchen, every second that passes another second we’re not getting my girl. “He’s staying with you.”