We scrape closer to the gaping hole in the earth as a chill rises from below. I dart my eyes behind. The cliff edge is but two steps away. The only thing between me and a hundred-foot fall is my captor.
He closes the distance, only one step now from the edge. Pebbles skitter under his boots, over the side and vanish into the drop.
“They’ll catch you,” I choke out, panic and tears rippingthrough every syllable. “Killing me doesn’t solve anything. I’m not the only one who knows everything?—”
I dig in, but my boots slip; I claw at the ground with my heels. Tears blur the world.
“Justin won’t survive this if you kill me!” I shout, desperate, voice cracking under the terror clawing up my chest. “They’ll find out who you are!”
He stops for one eerie moment and leans close, his breath hot on my ear. “Why do I care if they come after me?” His words are calm in a way that freezes the blood in my veins. “They’ll be chasing a dead man.”
He shifts his grip so I’m in front of him now.
And he shoves.
37
Whoever took her…whoeverlaid a hand on her…I’m going to tear him open with my bare hands,
Not arrest him. Not restrain him.
Break him.
Skull against gravel. Teeth on stone. His face will be unrecognizable to the world.
Blood was on that cruiser…
Every bump we hit on this road shakes the thoughts loose again and again until I’m choking on them.
I need her in my life. I have to see her. And my baby girl…
Rio braces against the dash as the truck fishtails around a bend, but he doesn’t tell me to slowdown. His gaze remains fixed on the overgrown pine trees of the quarry service road as they blur past, jaw tight, eyes cold.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he says finally, his words barely audible.
I grit my teeth. “Yeah? What?”
“Same thing I am.” He stares through the windshield. “Which one of us gets to kill him?”
I wasn’t thinking that.
It’s me.
But I swallow the words. Rage won’t help her. I force myself to breathe, to think, to stay ahead of any and every scenario yet to come. Preparation is everything, but I know nothing about the enemy this time. Least of all, why he would tell us to go to the quarry.
The curve of the road stretches out, the tree line pulls back, and the sky yawns open in a pale, merciless sweep.
The land shifts. The air changes.
The quarry rises ahead.
The cliff comes into view.
And someone is standing at the edge, looking down.
Mike Ingram.
The world narrows to a tunnel. The way he leans forward as if looking down at something…or someone.
