I want to call Alec. Text him. Ask if he’s okay. Butif he’s in danger, I can’t take the chance of distracting him.
Should I go out there? Find a heavy pan to use as a weapon and try to help? Or would I be nothing more than a liability?
What can I do?
Then a brush of cool metal on my collarbone reminds me.
The necklace. The one Alec gave me before bringing me to work for the first time.
“It has a tracker embedded inside it,”he explained as he handed me the heart-shaped pendant.“So if you’re ever in trouble—not that I think you will be, but just in case—we can find you anywhere.”He placed it in my hand and flipped the heart over to show me a tiny depression in the back.“And if you press this spot hard, it’ll trigger an alert. Everyone at GMG will get it and know you need help.”
I need to trigger it. Let his team know we’re in trouble.
It takes me several tries to find the little depression in the dark. Especially when my hands are shaking and damp with perspiration. But finally, the little button clicks.
Please. Please work.
“Hazel,” Angel whispers, “what’s going on out there? I don’t hear anything.”
Pitching my voice low, I reply, “I don’t know. I signaled for help. We just need?—”
One of the kitchen doors opens with a soft swoosh. A beam of light sweeps around the kitchen, reflecting off the steel appliances.
Angel makes a low, keening sound in the back of her throat.
My heart stutters.
If he finds us, I’ll fight back. Do whatever it takes to give Angel a chance to escape.
I should have told her that. But it’s too late now. Not when the flashlight is coming closer…
“Hazel? Are you in here?”
A fresh flood of tears coats my cheeks.
Alec.
“Haze, are you in here? It’s okay. You’re safe.”
I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a croak.
Angel blurts, “Alec? Is it you? We’re here!”
Footsteps hurry towards us. The beam of the flashlight moves closer.
And then.
Alec.
My protector. My savior.
Crouched in front of us, his features nearly hidden in shadow, but still achingly familiar.
“Haze,” he says. His hand comes to my cheek. “Are you hurt? Can you talk to me?”
“I… I’m… We’re… okay,” I stammer.
“What happened?” Angel asks.
