But no one will find out.
The only reason I'm thinking about her is the fact there was only mention of one girl.
Lyndall.
I drive my car, flanked by the black SUVs from Dad's fleet. "What the fuck do you think gives? I know Cade's informed you Lyndall?—"
"Has been taken."
I shut my mouth. There's something in his tone.
I was going to tell him that Lola wasn't mentioned but... "What the fuck do you know?"
"Sounds like you've somehow fucked things up worse than even I thought. How low did you go?"
"Out with it." I grip the wheel so hard it just might snap.
"We're out looking for her, but it's a little hard when I'm in Queens and Cade was halfway back to the East Village."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean your fucking girlfriend isn't with them. Your sister was taken, but she got away."
Both relief and anger surge at that. Relief she's okay out there. Somewhere. Anger that she got Lyndall in major dangerous trouble.
"What did she say?"
"She gave me the license plate—stolen car. A description that sounded either like Rebecci or a thug of the same build, and he had a big, black gun. He shoved Lyndall in the trunk and took off. She wanted you to know that."
Sweat drips, and I lift a hand to wipe it off my face. "Oh, good. She can have a fucking medal. And you don't know where she is?"
"We're calling favors, but I'm betting she's going to get money and run. And if she hasn't got herself a cheap burner, she will."
"Yeah," I mutter, not liking his assessment, mainly because it's what I'm thinking. "She turned off the tracker."
"You only put one in?"
"I'm in a fucking car. I can't track the second one." I give him some details. "It'll take a minute or two, three for you, but maybe if she hasn't dumped the phone, get her."
My heart thumps hard as the line beeps, and then Cade's voice fills my car too. "On it. I'm betting she hasn't left the Rockaways yet." He pauses. "Well, the New York City area, anyway. She won't go home, though."
She'll do this on her own.
For a girl who spent her life protected by family and then by me, she just might have some skills because I wonder ifshe spent time trying to work out how to hide or how to get out of New York if she ever had to run.
I'd never thought she'd go there, but...maybe she would.
Sure, she reads dirty books, but I remember her collection was small but eclectic: spy novels, thrillers, romances. True crime.
"Hey," Silas says, "She cleaned out her bank account, like all of it."
Fuck.
A minute later, Cade joins in. "Got some CCTV...she's in town, bought some things from the drug store and the thrift store."
"She's going to run."
"No shit, Enzo." Silas clicks his tongue. "How dumb can you be? I've heard of chasing off a girl, but this is taking it to the extreme."
