Kreed’s voice echoed in my memory, and I clung to hope.You’re mine, little raven.
I had to believe he’d meant it and those words carried significance beyond possessiveness or temporary infatuation—that he wasn’t using me and discarding me when I stopped being convenient or entertaining.
No. Kreed wasn’t like Rusty. He couldn’t be.
And if it wasn’t Kreed who came for me?
There was always Carson, the boy who claimed he loved me yet betrayed me. And Kenny, if she’d managed to escape or get word out. My best friends… They would go to the police and help with the investigation that would eventually lead to this house.
I will be found.
I clutched the ledge of the bathroom counter, using its solid presence to drag my trembling body upright. My legs felt like water, but they held me up.
I will be rescued.
I forced myself to look at my reflection in the mirror mounted above the sink. My lip was swollen, and I’d have numerous bruises from the impact with the floor and Silvia’s heels, but I’d heal. It was nothing next to being shot. My eyes were rimmed red from tears and strain, but underneath the damage, underneath the fear and pain and exhaustion, I was still standing.
Still me.
Still fighting.
But for how long?
2
KREED
The second my brothers and I stepped through the weathered door of Viper’s Auto Pro, the scent washed over me, thick grease coating every surface, burnt oil that had seeped into the concrete decades ago, rust eating away at everything metal, and the ghost of countless cigarettes smoked in this tomb of machinery. Kaylor’s father’s shop was the kind of place that crawled under your skin and left grit between your teeth for days.
The bell above the front door gave a weak, discordant jangle, its brass surface tarnished black. There was no one in the lobby to greet us, so I wandered toward the clatter coming from down the hall and into the garage. I didn’t wait to see if my brothers followed. The asshole who had picked up Kaylor from school the other day, Jesse, I remembered she had called him, looked up from under the dented hood of a beat-up Chevy that had seen better decades, his face smeared with fresh grease. A socket wrench gleamed in his oil-blackened fingers, and for a split second, his expression was nothing more than mild curiosity.
Wrong fucking place at the wrong fucking time.
I didn’t waste breath on words. The distance between usdisappeared in three long strides, and I slammed him against the nearest wall, rattling every tool hanging from its pegboard. One hand twisted into the front of his stained work shirt while the other found his throat and pressed just hard enough to make breathing an effort. His back connected with the corrugated metal wall with a hollow thud.
“Where the fuck is your old man?” I demanded, forgoing all pleasantries.
Jesse’s eyes went wide for half a heartbeat, genuine shock flickering across his features before his muscles coiled and he shoved hard against my restraining arm. “What the hell? I don’t fucking know!”
“Bullshit,” I snarled, bringing my face close, breath hot against his skin. “You expect me to believe you just happened to show up for another normal day at work and Daddy’s conveniently missing in action? Who, I might add, stole this fucking place by killing his best friend.” I wanted to see his reaction, gauge how much he knew, how deep he was involved in his father’s shady dealings.
“I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon,” he snapped back, his voice tight with strain and growing anger. A vein pulsed visibly at his temple. “He didn’t come in this morning, didn’t call, didn’t leave a fucking note. I’ve been trying to reach him for hours. And in case you haven’t figured it out, the old man and I don’t exactly have a loving father-son dynamic.”
Behind me, Raine’s voice cut through the tension. “Is that normal behavior, Jesse? For yourdevotedfather to just vanish without opening the shop?” The snap of his pocketknife springing open echoed through the garage.
Jesse’s jaw clenched hard enough to crack teeth. “No. It’s fucking not.”
That was all the confirmation I needed.
“Maybe you need some motivation to remember better.” I drew my fist back and drove it into his solar plexus.
He folded, a grunt forced expelled from his lungs as all the air left his body at once. His hands dropped to his knees as I released my hold, and he crumpled forward, wheezing like a dying engine tryingto turn over. Between ragged breaths, he managed to cough out, “You fuckin’ psycho.”
“Yeah?” I crouched down beside his hunched form. “I’ve been called worse, but you know I’m not playing games here. So here’s exactly what’s going to happen… Maddox,” I barked without turning around, my eyes never leaving Jesse’s bent form. “Search every inch of this shithole. Tear it apart if you have to. There’s got to be something here…files, receipts, a fucking phone number, something that’ll tell us where Rusty’s keeping her. Take Mason with you. Raine?—”
“I got the office,” he volunteered, knowing all too well how this went.
They split up. Raine’s silhouette disappeared down the hallway, leading to what passed for an office in this dump, while Mason and Maddox took the rest of the shop.
