Hang on, Lainie. I’m coming for you.
A strong scenthit Laine’s nostrils. She coughed and covered her mouth, lifting her head to scan the room. The door opened and Amir entered.
His cold gaze landed on her.
A chill raced up her spine. “Where’s Cameron?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, he sent me here for insurance.” He swept into the room, a red gasoline can in his hand. With one whip of the plastic tank, he splashed the foul liquid into the room. The spray just missed her.
“W-What are you doing?” she sputtered, scampering as close to the radiator as she could get. Fumes hit her in the face. She covered her mouth with her sleeve.
Then fear struck her with the force of lightning. “Where’s Emmy?”
His lip curled with disgust. “When my boss gives me the go-ahead, I get the honors to light the match.” He slammed the door, and the lock clicked into place.
Terror sizzled her senses. She had to get out and find Emmy. One spark, and this whole room would go up in flames—and Emmy was in bed above her.
She didn’t have much time. There wasn’t enough ventilation in the small room.
Using the radiator to support her, she stood and examined the window above her head. She hadn’t paid any attention to it until now because she couldn’t escape through it with her wrist chained.
The windowsill was only about three feet above the radiator. If she knelt on top of it, she could reach the glass. She dragged her chain to the top of the radiator, then climbed onto her knees. Her head spun, and the unrelenting metal dug into her shins, but she stretched to reach the latch.
The rusted lock required some maneuvering, but she got it loose. Pushing with all her strength, she slid open the glass. A cool breeze rushed inside. She sucked in a deep breath of clean air, keeping her mouth as close to the screen as possible.
Heat emanated over the back of her neck. Either she was imagining that the fire had been lit, or the fumes carried warmth. It didn’t matter. The panic was the same. She had to get free. Cameron wouldn’t willingly harm Emmy. He might be cruel and abusive, but he wasn’t a child killer.
But Cameron’s men, Amir especially, might not care enough to keep Emmy away from danger. A sickening sensation rolledthrough her gut. No, the men here might not actively choose to hurt a child, but the risk of an accident was bad enough.
Emmy would be better off running into the woods. Anxiety strangled Laine’s vocal cords. Even if she could get a message to Emmy, her daughter wouldn’t leave without her. Frustration singed her cheeks along with traitorous tears that were no help.
Goddammit.
She sank against the wall, her unchained hand clutching the window ledge so she didn’t spill onto the floor. Defeat threatened to chew her up and spit her out.
Ollie, I need you now more than I’ve ever needed you. Please protect Emmy. Let Roarke reach her and get her to safety.
Let Cameron burn in hell.
She repeated the last words—no longer a message to her big brother, but a prayer.
Let Cameron burn in hell.
The arrowon the GPS got closer and closer to the red pin. Less than two miles. The energy in the vehicle picked up, both Wraith and Viper as battle ready as Roarke.
He stared out of the windshield, squinting at the tree-lined gravel road. The sky spat heavily onto the earth, leaving puddles and causing mud to splash around them.
A couple of minutes later, Viper pulled onto the side of the road, hiding the truck in a screen of bushes. “We’re half a mile out,” Viper announced.
Roarke’s feet hit the squishy grass before Viper could finish his sentence. Determination flushed the skin on the back of his neck. Laine and Emmy had been gone only hours, but it felt likea fucking lifetime. He needed them in his arms and away from danger more than he needed to fucking breathe.
Almost more than he needed to put a bullet in Cameron’s head.
Wraith jumped out next to him. “Ya good?”
Securing his weapon across his chest, Roarke grimaced, unable to give an audible answer. Viper came around the vehicle as Wraith passed out their coms devices. Roarke secured the bud in his ear, and they ran a test.
Staring at the two men walking into battle, guilt pelted him. Their contract work overseas was different. They got paid for that shit. Took each mission for what it was, knowing that they might break international laws and ready to take the fall if shit rolled downhill.
