John throws his hand up. “Fuck this Walker guy. I’m an Antonelli. No one can touch me. I’m not scared of some small town mercenary.”
The pilot screams, “You should be.”
John pulls his gun from his pants and points it at the pilot. I suck in a breath. Oh my God, he’s going to kill him, and we’re all going down.
John’s voice is deep and lethal. “Talk to me like that again. I’m the boss here now. I’m the one in charge. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No,” I hear the man murmur.
John stands there, holding the gun to the man’s head, and I don’t take a breath until he finally pulls it back and shoves it in his waistband. “Good. So land us in New York. I’m going to have some fun with her before the torture begins.”
My stomach rolls, and I can feel the bile rising in my throat. I clench the arm rests and stare daggers at John.
I know what he plans to do me once we land, and I’m not going to let it happen. I will die fighting him off. I know he hates me for what I did. My testimony put his father in prison forever, and there is no way he’s going to just let me live.
I close my eyes and take big breaths. A plan, that’s what I need. And no matter how much I want someone to save me, I hope Logan stays far away from the Antonelli family because they’re not going to like anything—or anyone—getting in their way.
CHAPTER 17
LOGAN
I’m smiling as I get out of my truck. I look up at the light of Bree’s bedroom window and jog across the street to the downstairs apartment door. I push in the code to open the door and take the stairs two at a time, ready to get to Bree.
As soon as I get to the top, I see that her apartment door is wide open.
Not cracked. Not ajar. It’s wide fucking open.
I frown but quickly shake it off, trying to explain it to myself. She knew I was coming. She left the door open for me.
I walk in and look around the empty living room. I don’t even have to holler for her, I know she’s not here. I’ve always thought I had some kind of sixthsense or something, but I call her name out anyway. “Bree?”
I walk through the apartment calling her name. Maybe she’s visiting a neighbor, I think, but that’s quickly squashed when I walk into the bathroom and see the writing on the mirror.
Found you.I stand staring at the mirror as my skin starts to crawl. No! What does this mean? Fuck, I should have made her tell me what happened to her and why she was having nightmares.
I walk through her bedroom and the rest of her apartment, looking for any clues. My phone dings, and it’s an emergency text from the Ghost Team. I’m still on their call list, but it’s only for Whiskey Run. I read the text.911.Unknown plane on airstrip.
I ignore the text and call Zach.
I’m pacing the living room as I wait for him to answer. I spot Bree’s purse and open it. Her phone and wallet are still in there. Gripping her phone in my hand, I’m about to open it when Zach answers.
“What’s up?”
“Zach. Bree’s gone. I came to her apartment to pick her up, and she’s gone.”
He starts to talk. “Maybe she’s at the neighbors or?—”
I cut him off. “No! Someone wrote on her bathroom mirror, ‘Found you.’” I huff out a breath. “I don’t know who or what?—”
Zach sighs. “Fuck, I do.” I can hear my sister talking in the background, but Zach asks, “Are you still at her apartment?”
I set down her purse and phone. “Yeah, why?”
“I’ll be there in three minutes. We’re just around the corner.”
With one last look around the apartment, I jog down the steps. I peek my head into Savage Ink. “Hey, Aiden! You seen Bree?”
He shakes his head. “No, why? What’s up?”
