If he thought he could slip away unnoticed, he was badly mistaken. I’d prepared for this, planned for it. There were three trackers on her—one in her phone and another in her necklace. If by some chance he figured that out and tossed her phone, the necklace would still lead me to her. And if he took that off, too, I’d slipped a third into her costume when I was fingering her inthe party. Unless he stripped her completely—which he fucking better not have—I’d find her.
“What happened? Where’s Ainsley? Where—”
I hadn’t realised Jade followed me, and now she was searching around, eyes wide in terror. I put Ainsley’s belongings into her hands. “Take these, gather the rest, and go home. I’ll bring her back soon.” I told her, my tone leaving no room for argument.
“She’s kidnapped?”
My eyes must have held the answer because she almost lost her balance, holding the nearest car to keep herself up. Nodding as if she’d lost her mind, she took off in the direction of the party house.
As soon as she stumbled away, I pulled out my phone, my fingers moving fast as I opened the tracking app. The screen loaded slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. When the map appeared, I saw the familiar dots. The phone’s tracker was inactive—he’d smashed it—but the dormant dot of the secondary tracker was still active. I breathed a little easier, but only just. Dormant didn’t mean dead. It just meant she wasn’t moving. He must have stopped.
The address was far. Too far. And my gut churned with the thought that she might not be alive by the time I got there.
Don’t think like that. Focus.
I dashed to my bike, the wind whipping my face as I raced through the streets. My knuckles tightened on the handlebars as I weaved between cars, the cold night air biting into my skin. The fear gnawed at me. I was angry—angry at myself, angry at him—but more than that, I was terrified.
What if I was too late?
That thought kept racing through my mind, over and over, as I pushed the bike faster. What if she was already...No. I couldn’t think like that. I’d find her. I had to. Fuck, I had to.
The place was dark and desolate when I finally arrived—a long-abandoned building in the developing part of the town. It looked like something out of a nightmare, the kind of place people disappear into and never come out of. I parked my bike and slipped off, yanking the knife from my boot as I headed for the door. The dot on the tracker was close. Too close.
I pushed through the heavy door, the darkness swallowing me whole. The silence in the building was deafening, my own breath loud in my ears. I moved quietly, the tracker confirming I was right on top of her.
Somewhere in this place, she was waiting for me. And that one-eyed bastard...he was about to find out exactly what hell looked like.
30
AINSLEY
Water splashed onto my face, cool but distant, like I was floating just below the surface of consciousness. It wasn’t enough to fully wake me, not yet. I barely registered the droplets sliding down my skin. Then came the patting, light at first, then firmer, more insistent. The continuous tapping against my cheek became harsher, turning into slaps. That was what finally pulled me from the darkness.
My eyes fluttered open, the world tilting as dizziness swamped me. My head lolled forward, and I blinked rapidly, trying to focus. The first thing I saw was a face—a face distorted, one eye covered by a black patch.
My heart lurched, adrenaline invading my system. I snapped awake, breath catching in my throat as panic enveloped me. My body instinctively jolted into motion, but I couldn’t move. I pulled harder, frantic now, my arms aching with the strain. It took me a few seconds to realise what was happening. My wrists...they were tied. I looked up, my gaze following the rope binding my wrists above my head.
It was connected to a wooden beam on the ceiling. The rope coiled around the wood, keeping my arms suspended high above me, my feet barely touching the ground. I yanked at it again, but it didn’t budge. The panic in my chest squeezed tighter, making it hard to breathe, but I forced myself to take in my surroundings.
The building was desolate, the kind of place that felt abandoned for years. Cracked walls, peeling paint, a damp,musty smell in the air. It would have been pitch-black if it weren’t for the small fire burning near one of the far walls.
And then my gaze landed on him.
The man with the eyepatch.
Something inside me snapped. I should have been terrified—should’ve felt a cold grip of fear paralysing me—but that wasn’t what took over. No, it wasn’t fear that roared to life. It was rage. Pure rage.
It pounded through me, heavy and relentless, flooding my veins like a tidal wave. My breaths came fast, uneven, my entire body trembling not with fear, but with fury. How dare he? How fucking dare he? After everything...after the first time he’d taken me and made me look like a fool, he had the audacity to kidnap me again? The anger was so intense I could barely think straight, barely hear anything over the rushing sound in my ears.
Maybe I was angry because this dickhead had covered his tracks that same night—wiped away all evidence that could’ve led back to him. I told Theon about it, and he’d said that was the only thing that could have happened. It made no sense. I had hurt him that night. It made no sense even more because he told me I’d hit him in the eye, causing him to lose it. So how the hell had he managed to clear the tracks and disappear?
My wrists burned against the rough rope as I tugged again, trying to break free, my muscles straining with the effort. I didn’t know why the anger felt so sharp, so heavy. Oh, maybe it was because Theon could have died that night, or maybe it was the humiliation of being kidnapped by the same psychopath twice, which was ridiculous. But whatever it was, the anger boiled, leaving no room for anything else.
My gaze went back to him, the flickering fire casting shadows across his face. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to tear him apart for thinking he could do this to me again. The fury inside me was so strong it was almost suffocating.
If I was going to die by his hands, I wouldn’t die a coward.
With that thought firmly secured, I gathered saliva on my tongue and hurled it at him. His eyes snapped shut, and I knew he would slap me before he raised his hand.
