When the floors were clean, she grabbed her phone from the counter and sent a quick text to Joel.
Polly: Please tell me you’re going to be home soon because I’m leaving Bloom in a second and need to share a big bottle of wine after the conversation I just had with Jonah.
She dropped the cell back onto the counter and took the mop and bucket outside. Quickly, she dumped the water.
She’d just opened the cellar door and taken the first step down when a hand shoved her in the back.
She screamed as she fell, her shoulder hitting a step and her body twisting and turning as she rolled.
She hit the floor hard, pain cascading throughout her body. But she barely had time to focus on the feeling before the basement door slammed closed—and then there was darkness.
Oh, God.
She stumbled to her feet and crawled up the stairs. But when she shoved at the door, it didn’t budge.
No, no, no.
She shoved again.
It was locked. Someone had pushed her down here and locked her in.
She banged her fists against the wood. “Help! Please. Someone—let me out!”
She wasn’t sure how long she yelled for, but when the panic got too thick, clawing up her throat and shortening her breaths, she was too lightheaded to continue. Slowly, she crawled back down, stumbling on the last step and hitting the ground.
Nausea rolled through her belly. Quickly, she put her head between her knees and just breathed. Deep breaths, in and out.
She was stuck. Stuck until someone found her.
Joel.
Joel would find her. He’d realize she was missing and he’d come. She just had to wait.
27
Joel sped toward Bloom, a bad feeling burning in his gut.
Polly wasn’t answering his calls. Why? She always answered.
He shot a glance in his rearview mirror to see Ryan not far behind.
The frantic beats of his heart knocked against his ribs. He’d always held the belief that this wasn’t Jonah. But what if he was wrong? What if the guy was exactly who Polly had thought he was?
He pressed his foot harder to the gas, the car surging forward.
The second he pulled over in front of Bloom, he was out of the car and running. Not only was the door unlocked, it was ajar. He crashed inside, Ryan right behind him.
“Polly?” he yelled.
Silence. Complete fucking silence.
He sprinted into the kitchen, then the office, searching. Scanning every inch of space.
Nothing. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t fucking here.
He tried the back door but it was locked. When he stepped back into the dining area, he saw what he’d missed the first time. Her phone. It sat on the counter.
“She wouldn’t have left without this.”
