Zaman snatches the empty water bottle from my hands, yanks me to my feet, and drags me out of the van. “You will learn to be respectful. You belong to the Amir now.”
Cutting the tape from my wrists, he shoves me off to the side of the road. “You piss now or you will sit in it. We have another eight hours before you get to your new home.”
Eight hours. My new home?
As I relieve myself with Zaman watching my every move, I pray whoever was looking for us at Hamid’s house knows where I am. Or where Ivy and Mia are. But when Zaman grabs my wrists and binds them together again, gags me, and pushes the boshiya over my head, I clench my hands hard enough my short nails dig into my palms. A tiny trickle of blood wells under one of my fingers, and I let the pain overtake all of my thoughts. The van speeds off as I huddle on the floor, Zaman and two other men with guns watching me like I’m a lamb headed for the slaughter.
4
Ford
There isn’t enough coffee in the world this morning. Still, the scent wafting from my large to-go cup helps with the exhaustion. Lying awake all night didn’t leave me in the best shape to guard our newest client on her way to work. Nor did the 5:00 a.m. phone call from Nomar.
Four dead. Buried in shallow graves. All men.
A sick feeling claws up my from my stomach, lingering in the back of my throat. So of course, I do the dumbest thing possible—take a swig of coffee.
Less than a minute later, I’m bent over a garbage can, heaving up what little I’ve managed to drink in the past half an hour. If Joey’s still alive…
Get your shit together. You’re no good to her if you can’t even keep coffee down. Plus, you have a client to take care of first.
Pulling a bottle of water from my bag, I rinse my mouth out, toss the remains of the coffee in the trash, and pop a couple of mints. Only another few hours and I can focus on Joey. Find her. Until then, I have to take care of business.
Evianna locks her front door and takes off at a good clip towards the T station. I told her where I was, but she still keeps checking behind her—probably trying to catch sight of me. At a stoplight, I text her.
Ford: Stop looking for me. Act normal.
As I follow her through the turnstile and wait on the platform, she responds.
Evianna: Being stalked isn’t exactly “normal” for me. Neither is having a bodyguard. You try acting normal with a giant, lethal-looking dude following you.
Despite the stress turning my shoulders into solid blocks of granite, I chuckle.
Ford: Think of me as a really tall teddy bear. Who knows how to fight. Dax and Trevor are the lethal ones.
The train is full, and I can barely see Evianna at the other end of the car, but anyone after her would be an idiot to try something in front of all of these people, so I relax a bit and let the rhythmic sound and vibrations relax me. I know this town. Know my job.
The trip to Evianna’s office is uneventful, and I lengthen my stride to catch her right before the elevator doors close, then punch the buttons for every floor between the lobby and her office. It’s the best I can do under the circumstances to give myself time to talk to her without showing my face to her coworkers.
“Sorry, I needed a minute.”
Her eyes widen, a hint of fear creeping into her tone. “Is something wrong?”
Yes. Something is very wrong.
“Not exactly. It’s nothing to do with your case. But I have an emergency I have to take care of. You’re not leaving the office today?”
“No. It’s crunch time. We’re getting sandwiches delivered and it’s all hands on deck. I won’t leave until eight.” With a little huff, she adjusts her briefcase. “Hell, if I didn’t have to worry about scheduling with you, I might stay until midnight. But I can pack up at eight and finish up the night at home.”
Running a hand through my hair, I hope this won’t destroy all of her confidence in Second Sight. But I don’t have a choice. “Okay. The Dunkin’ Donuts right next door is open until ten. I have to coordinate with the rest of the team, but I’ll send someone there at eight to meet you. I’ll text you their photo once I figure out who’s free.”
The doors slide shut on the fourth floor, and the next stop is Beacon Hill. “Ford?” When I meet her gaze, she squeezes my arm. “I hope everything’s okay.”
“Me too, Evianna. Thanks for understanding.”
It only takes me ten minutes to walk to Second Sight from Evianna’s building, and I spend the entire time on the phone with Nomar. He’s working half a dozen angles right now, trying to figure out where they might have taken Joey and the other two women, but he’s hitting walls left and right.
“I found their convoy. There’s evidence of sabotage. Three out of the four tires on the lead vehicle had been patched, and the fourth was slashed. I don’t think they had time to repair it before they were ambushed. It looks like they stopped for the night, set up camp, and were taken from there. It’s been at least five days, though. No footprints, vehicle tracks…nothing left. Too much wind destroying the evidence. My only reference is body decomp.” Nomar stifles a yawn. “Sorry, man. I haven’t slept since you called me.”
