Black Knights Inc.
Four goddamned hours!
That’s how long it’d been since the ransom call came in.
Hew scraped both hands down his face and blew out a breath that didn’t do jack shit to lessen the pressure building in his chest. The air in the War Room on the second floor felt thick and sticky, like aged maple syrup, only without the sweetness.
His boots stomped heavily across the space in ragged, restless strides. And the longer he paced, the more he wanted to shoot something.
No. Not something. Someone. That bitch who made the ransom call.
He’d start with her.
And, ayuh, despite the voice modulator, it’d still been clear that the one making the demands was a woman. Sabrina had confirmed as much when she’d screamed, Don’t give her anything! They won’t?—
What? They won’t what?
Screwing his eyes shut, he heard the echo of her cry, as clear now as it had been then. I’m here! I’m alive!
The memory felt like shrapnel in his brain.
He should’ve been with her on that damned drive. Should’ve stopped her from going in the first place. But he’d swallowed his objections, pushed aside his worry, and done neither. Now, the woman he…
What?
What exactly did he feel for Sabrina? Affection, sure. Respect and fondness and tenderness and understanding, of course. But…was there more? Was that fire that filled his heart whenever he heard her bright, babbling brook laugh indicative of something bigger? Was that ache low in his belly whenever she gifted him with one of her mile-wide smiles proof that he?—
Don’t go there. It’s not the time!
Time…
Every tick of the clock on the wall was a hammer blow against his skull. Every second that slipped by was a new inch in the ever-widening gulf of fear opening up inside his chest.
Time…
Just bleedin’ away.
“Damnit,” Ozzie muttered, pulling out his earbuds and tossing them beside the mousepad. “I can’t trace the ransom call. They rerouted it through so many proxies that it could’ve come from Brazil, Bangkok, or the Taco Bell down the block. I was able to track it through two darknet relays, then a tower in Iowa that’s supposedly been offline for a month. But that’s where the trail ends.”
Hew clenched his fists so tight he could feel his blunt nails biting into his palms. If Ozzie, the best damn hacker Hew had ever met in real life, couldn’t trace the call, then the call couldn’t be traced. It was as simple as that.
From his office, Boss’s voice boomed. “—don’t care if it’s unorthodox. We need the cash now, not tomorrow.”
Becky’s voice came next, sharp with urgency. “That’s not good enough. We need to make this happen today. Can’t we find someone who?—”
Hew tuned them out.
He loved them both. Loved their optimism that they could somehow mortgage the shop to get the money needed. But banks didn’t fork over millions without paperwork, protocols, and red tape.
And that took time.
Time they didn’t have. Time Sabrina didn’t have.
And so that left…
Fuck, he had no clue what that left. No one did. But everyone was scrambling to find out.
Grace Jackson paced by the railing, thumbs flying on her phone. Julia O’Toole sat at the end of the conference table, laptop open, typing like her fingers were on fire.
