“How did you know?” I asked. “How did you know I was burned?”
Hunter holstered his weapon. “Travis got a call a couple hours ago from Mia about a box of mementos being taken fromher apartment. It was the only thing that was taken, so she put two and two together and got Oliver.”
“Where is she now?” Oliver’s creepy-ass words abouthis little preykept buzzing through my head.
Before anyone could answer, everyone’s phones buzzed simultaneously. I didn’t have mine—couldn’t take a chance on bringing it undercover—but I watched Hunter, Beckett, and Aiden check their screens.
Their faces went pale.
“Nine-one-one,” Hunter said. “Travis.”
Beckett was already dialing. He put it on speaker, and Travis’s voice came through tight with barely controlled panic.
“Mia and Lark were driving back from Billings. Someone ran them off the road.”
The world tilted.
“Lark’s injured but conscious. Some cuts, sprained wrist. She called.” Travis’s voice cracked. “She saw a man pull Mia from the wreck. Big guy, dead eyes, military build. Based on her description?—”
Bishop. There was no doubt in my mind.
“Where did he take her?” The words ripped out of me.
“I don’t know. Yet.”
Hours.
We’d been at Travis’s house for hours, and we were no closer to finding Mia.
I couldn’t stop moving. Pacing the conference room like a caged animal, wearing a path on the hardwood. The walls pressed in. The clock on the wall ticked too loudly, each second a hammer blow reminding me how much time was passing.
What was happening to her right now?
Mia had survived once. She’d run through dark woods, fought off men twice her size, escaped against impossible odds.
But that was with hope. That was when she thought help was coming.
Now?
Now, she was alone with monsters who knew exactly what she’d cost them.
My little prey that got away.Oliver’s voice echoed through my head.I so desperately want to see what it takes to make her shatter.
It took every bit of control I had not to put my fist through another wall.
Hunter was on the phone in the corner, voice low and urgent. He was talking to Deputy Director Hartwell, explaining what had happened at the warehouse and why we’d left so suddenly. She wanted to talk to me or Travis, but Travis was busy trying to save Mia’s life, and there was no way in fuck I was going to be able to get coherent sentences out right now.
She could talk to Hunter, or she could rot in hell. I honestly didn’t care which.
Travis worked at his wall of monitors without pause. Beckett cleaned his weapon at the table—third time in the past hour—and Aiden stood guard by the door like a statue carved from stone.
Nobody told me to sit down. Nobody told me to calm down.
They knew better.
“I had Bishop’s vehicle on traffic cams heading east,” Travis said, not looking up from his screens. “Lost him when he hit the rural roads. No coverage once you get past Bridger.”
“What about Oliver’s properties? His known locations?”
