Silence.
I shove inside so hard the door slams against the wall. The apartment looks wrecked.
Lamps overturned. Broken glass everywhere. Couch cushions ripped on the floor.
Signs of a struggle. A violent struggle.
My pulse turns feral immediately.
“FIREFLY?!” I roar, but nothing.
NOTHING! NOTHING! NOTHING!
Bedroom.Empty.Bathroom.Empty.No Ophelia, just destruction.
My breathing turns ragged while panic claws violently through my chest hard enough I can barely fucking stand upright.
No! No! Not again.You don’t get to take her from me and then, suddenly, my phone buzzes.
Unknown number.
I swipe the text open to see a video.
Pressing play makes my blood run cold.
Firefly’s brand new bike sits abandoned somewhere dark. Gasoline dripping beneath it. Then flames erupt. The entire bike catches fire before exploding seconds later in a massive burst of orange and black.
“No…”
Then Ophelia’s name flashes across my screen. I answer so fast I almost drop it.
“FIREFLY?!”
Screaming.
She screams in pure terror and my entire body locks up hearing it.
“Hayden!” she sobs hysterically. “Please—“
A loud crash cuts her off, followed by crying and what sounds horrifyingly like someone hitting her.
Something inside my chest tears open.
“STOP TOUCHING HER!” I roar violently into the phone.
More crying. “That’s it. Scream for me. Let him hear you,” the voice says, then her broken voice again.
“Don’t come,” she sobs desperately. “Please, Hayden, just run—”
Another sharp cry, then a man laughs softly.
Brayden.
Pure murderous rage floods every vein in my body.
“Well,” Brayden drawls calmly into the phone. “This got dramatic fast.”
I grip the phone so hard it cracks slightly beneath my hand. “If you touch her again, I’ll peel your fucking skin off,” I growl, then he chuckles darkly.
