“Make sure dinner’s ready when I get back.” Cal grabbed his coat and turned to look at her. The way his eyes softened made her feel sicker. “We’re going to have a nice evening. Just like you always wanted.”
“Of course,” she said sweetly, the words tasting like ash. “I’ll make something special.”
The door slammed behind him, followed by the sound of a lock engaging. Then an engine starting and tires on gravel that faded into silence.
Willow waited. Her hands were trembling, and she felt close to throwing up, but she had to keep a grip.
She counted to one hundred to make sure he was really gone. Then she started working.
When she was a kid, she’d once spent hours tied to a tree when Gray had abandoned her during survival training. She’d gotten out of that by dislocating her thumb—a trick she hadn’t known existed until she’d done it by accident and Carson had explained it later.
But she couldn’t dislocate her foot. The ankle chain was solid steel, the bolt driven deep into the floor, maybe even connected to a pipe under the cabin.
She tried anyway, yanking at the chain until her ankle was raw and bleeding. Nothing. The bolt didn’t budge.
From across the room, the phone mocked her. It probably wasn’t even connected, but it didn’t matter. Even stretching to the max, her fingertips couldn’t begin to grab it.
Think, Willow. Think.
She surveyed the cabin with new eyes, cataloging everything within reach. The kitchen area had knives—but the drawer was just beyond her chain’s limit. The bathroom had a small window—also unreachable. The fridge was accessible, and she could make it to the ancient stove.
She had four hours before Cal returned. Four hours to figure out how to save herself.
Deep in her bones, she knew Decker was coming. He was out there right now, tearing apart the world looking for her. But she couldn’t just wait to be rescued.
She’d learned long ago that sometimes you had to save yourself first.
* * * * *
Decker had given up on sleep after only an hour and returned to the office where her brothers were still working.
Theo was dead to the world on the leather sofa in Carson’s office, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. The rest of them looked equally haggard, eyes bloodshot from staring at screens and running down dead ends.
Decker met Carson’s stare. “Anything?”
“The feed store worker is still our only suspect. And we haven’t tracked down a single person who knows where to find him.”
“Fuck.” He jammed his fingers through his mussed hair. He must look like hell, but nothing mattered except finding Willow.
“Colt’s driving all the back roads now. There are a few mountain passes closed for the weather, but if he sees any tracks, he’ll follow.”
“What now?” Decker’s voice cracked from disuse and raw pain. “Feed store opens in two hours. We’re going to be there when they unlock the doors.”
The fury that had been building in Decker’s chest all night crystallized into cold, tactical focus. This was what he was trained for—finding targets, eliminating threats, bringing people home. The terror of losing Willow clawed at his insides, but he channeled it into something useful.
Finally, Carson crossed to the sofa and shook Theo awake. Then they were on the road again.
They took one of the old trucks that didn’t have any ties to the Black Heart Ranch or the security team. When they arrived at Willowbrook Feed and Seed just after dawn broke, the old owner was already puttering around inside. He paled to see three grim-faced men at his door, especially after they paid him a visit the previous night.
“We need to talk about Willow Malone,” Decker said without preamble.
“What happened to the order our sister came to pick up yesterday?” Carson stepped closer to the owner, using his size to get answers.
The owner sputtered. “I looked for it this morning. It’s not in the back room or on the loading dock. She picked it up.”
He took a menacing step toward the owner, when his earpiece crackled to life. Colt’s voice filled it, tight with tension. “He’s here. Cal just pulled into the parking lot.”
Decker’s blood turned to ice and fire simultaneously. He positioned himself near the front door, forcing his body to relax, to appear casual. Just another customer shopping for supplies.
