He shakes his head. Exhaustion carved into his face. “Every route out of the compound checked. Hospitals, transport hubs, every name under Gideon. Nothing.”
The monitors beep faster, each tone a drum of panic in my chest. I clutch the sheets, nails biting deep, panic clawing upward.Ten mother fucking days.
The beeping drills into my skull, each sound a hammer blow, and if it doesn’t stop, I’m going to destroy every fucking machine in this room.
I shake my head and a sharp pain stabs through my broken ribs. “H-how the fuck—”
“Compound was chaos when we got you out. Gideon vanished. So did she.”
The words barely register. Like I’m drowning in water, words muffled, far away.
I can’t breathe—not from the injury, not from the pain—but from the weight of knowing she’s alone.
My hand falls limp against the blanket, IV taped to my skin. My wedding band glints in the light, gold cold and cruel against the warmth of my tears.
“I failed her,” I whisper. Words barely sound, barely exist.
“You did everything you could in the situation—trussed up like a piñata.”
A growl rips out of me before I can stop it, and pain detonates through my ribs, white-hot and blinding. It steals my breath, but it also grounds me. Reminds me I’m still here.
Still breathing.
What the fuck do I even have to live for without her?
If he’s taken her. Married her. Touched her…
I shove the thought away before it guts me.
I don’t care what he’s done. I’ll take her back.
Memory slams into me like a fist—her hands on my face, shaking, slick with my blood. Her tears falling fast, mixing with it.
I love you, Trey. Please, don’t leave me.
My throat tightens.
God, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.
“There’s one more thing,” Chace says quietly. “Intel says your dad was seen leaving the area that night.”
Everything in me stills.
“My—what?”
Why the fuck was my dad there?
If he was coming for me, I haven’t gone anywhere. Ten fucking days. That’s what he said.
I force my head to turn, every inch of it screaming. The room swims into view—flowers lining the counter, cards stacked on the side table, some fancy basket from the management team or sponsors or whoever the hell.
“Anything in those?” I rasp. “Any clues?”
“Already checked,” Chace says. “Nothing useful. Some fan crap got turned away. But it’s not over. I’ve got my uncle out looking. He thinks she’s most likely with him.”
Cold spreads through my chest.
“You’re saying…” My voice cracks. “My dad has her?”
