No answer.
I exit and race to the next one. My thighs burn, lungs straining, but I don’t slow. He’s not there either. I check the concession area.
Nothing.
Maybe he’s returned to our seats.
I start making my way back when my phone rings. Fucking hell. My father again.
Fuck him.
I tap ignore again. But he calls right back. This motherfucker. I hit the green button and hold my phone to my ear. “I don't have time—”
“You forget who holds the real power in this family.” He pauses. “Including collateral damage.”
Collateral damage?
My grip on the phone tightens. “What did you do?”
He chuckles, low and cold. “You played a game you weren't prepared for. Every action has consequences. Every weakness gets exploited. And yours? He's about to learn what it costs to be married to a Walsh.”
“Where the fuck is my husband!”
The line goes dead.
The phone slips from my hand, clattering on the concrete.
No.
No, no, no.
My pulse pounds so hard in my ears I can't hear the music anymore—just this roaring sound. My vision narrows until all I see is the phone on the ground. Everything else is dark at the edges.
“FUCK!”
People are staring, but I don't give a shit. My stomach's cramping, threatening to throw up the beer from earlier.
They took my husband. They fucking took what’s mine.
I pick my phone off the floor, then run toward the exit, my legs barely working. My father thinks he won.
Wrong.
I'm done playing their games. Done with blackmail. Done with leverage.
Now, it’s time to burn it all down.
Chapter 30
Ryan
Everything hurts. Head’s pounding, and there’s this buzzing behind my eyes. I try to open them, but my lids want to stay shut.
What . . . what happened?
I try to move but can't. Something’s restraining my arms behind me, cutting into my skin. I yank at my wrists. Nothing. The bindings just dig deeper.
My ankles won’t move either.
