Wren’s storage is empty. Once they see that, they’ll hurt me. Worse than they’ve ever hurt me before. But maybe there will still be something left of me to save if Ronan gets here in time.
“It’s a fingerprint scanner, boss,” Oliver says, picking up the laptop and hustling over to me. François grabs my right index finger and bends it back to the point I’m shocked it doesn’t dislocate. I swallow my scream, clenching my teeth until the computer unlocks and he releases me.
“You need…to connect…to the internet,” I rasp. “The cell phone…icon.”
“Duh.” Oliver clicks around, and God…I hope there’s a cell tower close by. “Now what?”
“Type this...into the browser…” Slowly, each number harder to say than the last, I give Oliver the address of Wren’s storage server.
“Passphrase?” my brother asks.
I’m so tired. Everything hurts. Can’t focus. Until François lets the rope fly against my cheek with so much force, my entire head jerks.
“Yellow. Alpha. Dictionary. Fortune. Trainer. Light. Peacock. Heart. Carry. Ring.”
Please work. Please find me.
“Uh, François?” Oliver frowns. This isn’t going to end well for me. “There’s nothing here.”
“What?” He stalks over to the laptop and stares at the screen. “You little bitch.”
“Everything…should be there.” I try to act surprised, but I doubt he believes me. I wouldn’t. “Try again.”
Oliver returns his hands to the keyboard, but François grabs one of the scalpels, spins my brother’s chair around, and presses the sharp blade to Oliver’s neck. “Tell me where the filesreallyare, or I will end him!”
“No!” I cry. “Don’t hurt him!” My brother stopped being my family years ago. But I can’t let François kill anyone but me.
“Where are they?” he shouts. “Give me everything. Right fucking now!”
Oliver wraps his hands around François’s wrist, and the two struggle for control as I beg them to stop.
“I’ll tell you! Everything!” But just as I give up all hope of keeping the files hidden, Oliver loses his grip on François’s arm. Momentum drives the scalpel across his throat.
Blood sprays my laptop. Paints Oliver’s gray t-shirt crimson. He gurgles and presses his hands to his neck. His eyes roll back in his head. And then he’s gone.
“Youdid this,” François roars.
I’m sobbing now, though my body is too far gone for tears. “No. You did. Break every bone. I don’t fucking care. I’ll never give youanything.”
His rage boils over, and he tells tell Theo to do his worst.
Please, Ronan. Hurry. Or there won’t be anything left of me to find.
* * *
Ronan
A rough shake pulls me from a nightmare. Zephyr’s broken, bloodied body lay in the middle of a field, riddled with bullets. I’d pulled her into my arms, only to find her still warm. Minutes too late.
“Get up,” Trevor says. “She’s alive.”
I’m on my feet in a heartbeat, almost knocking the former CIA sniper on his ass in my cramped office. “How do you know?”
“She accessed some internet site Wren set up? I didn’t understand half of what Ripper said, but it logged an approximate location for her out past Randolph.”
“That’s over an hour away! How long ago did this happen?”
Following Trevor back to the conference room, my heart sinks when he answers. “Twenty minutes ago.”
