I check the screen for the fiftieth time in the past hour. “They’ve stopped moving. This must be a warehouse or an abandoned building.”
“Looking it up now,” Julian says, tapping the keys of his laptop. It feels like it takes him forever, that every single second is an hour that she’s gone, and it’s making me lose my fucking mind. “It’s a …house.”
“Say that again.”
He shakes his head, still typing.
“It’s a goddamn, motherfucking house. And it was purchased a month ago by Rizzo.”
“A big one,” Mateo says, looking over Julian’s shoulder. “How did we miss this?”
That’s what I want to fucking know.
“We need to get eyes in the air,” Julian says, “so we know what kind of security we’re walking into.”
“I’m going now.”
“No,” Mateo says, and I snarl at him. “Julian’s right. We have to do this right because they won’t hesitate to take her out, and you know it.”
“Christ.” I push my hand through my hair and continue to pace. “I can’t think.”
“We’ll do the thinking,” Julian says and nods to Luke. “Get eyes in the sky. Drones are best. We need toknow what his surveillance is like, and how many people he has on the grounds.”
“On it,” Luke says, making more calls. “I’m going out with them. I can report to you myself. Don’t worry, boss, we’ll get her back in one piece.”
Fuck.
We’d better.
Thirty minutes later, we have some answers.
Rizzo’sarmyis closer to thirty men. Half outside the house, and it seems the rest must be inside, coming in and out.
“Let’s go,” I say, pulling on a Kevlar vest as I leave the penthouse and head for the parking garage. I’m already armed with my knives, my guns, and enough rage to tear these motherfuckers apart with my bare hands.
Hold on, firefly. I’m coming for you.
It’s time to end this.
Fifty-Six
LULU
Everything hurts, and I’m pretty sure someone just punched me in the face.
“She’s awake.”
I know that voice.
And then it all comes back to me. Shopping. Loveland. Getting drugged and thrown into the back of a car.
I wheeze when someone kicks me in the ribs. I manage to open one eye and see Loveland grinning down at me.
“Wake up, you fucking slut. Jesus, we didn’t give you that much.”
“Enough.”
I’m punched again, and then my father screams, “ENOUGH!”
