Chances? He must know.
But honestly, I don't care.
At this point, I don't even care if he happens to be Simon.
I'm not calling him for the kind of help that means trusting him or even seeing him.
Nope, I want to do my part for Lyndall.
I don't know how cell phones work in regard to hardcore tracking, so I promise myself to keep it short and sweet.
I find his number and press call.
He answers immediately. "Lola? Where are you?—"
"Silas—"
"Listen to me. You need my help. Don't ask me how I know, I just?—"
"I'm not playing that game. You listen to me. Lyndall has been kidnapped, and I know Enzo is Alex."
There's a beat.
A sigh. "Look?—"
"No. This is the number plate." I rattle it off with him. "It was white and a sedan, I think. I'm not up on cars, but it wasn't an SUV."
I take a breath to try and relay it as concisely as I can. "He had a gun and forced her into the trunk."
"Are you?—"
"I tried to stop it. I tried. But she stepped in, and I couldn't pull her back before the man..."
I squeeze my eyes shut. "He was big, broad, brown hair, needed a shave, but...I don't remember...I just remember the gun."
And I can see it. Big and black and pointed at me.
He keeps his tone calm. "I know you're scared. But I can help. We can?—"
"Can you pass that on to Enzo?"
"Look, let me know where you are."
I snort a laugh. "So you can tell Enzo?"
"Damn right. It isn't safe, Lola. He can pick you up and protect you."
"Not happening."
"You know him," Silas says, voice low, "I know that."
"No, I don't. He's a stalker asshole and dangerous." I swallow. "Nothing good will come of me speaking to him right now."
Nothing good will come of me speaking to him ever again.
"You had a shock?—"
"Just pass on the information."
