Page 6 of Hide Little Traitor

“Ronan?”

“I have to tell you something. But I need you to listen before you freak out. Okay?”

“What the fuck is going on? Where’s Chloe?”

“Promise me, Damon.”

“Okay, I promise. Now tell me where the fuck she is,” I snap.

“I got her to the clinic that Crew organized, but when Camilla stepped out of the room to get the doctor, she disappeared.”

“What do you mean she disappeared?” I grind out. “Was it the bodyguard?”

“No. He had a knife to my throat at the time.”

“Then who the hell could have taken her? Dad hasn’t sent any teams out looking for you guys yet, so it’s not us.”

“We think it’s Kingston,” he whispers.

I don’t hear another word he says as the phone falls from my hand, my chest tightening to the point I can’t drag in a breath.

Because Kingston taking Chloe can only mean one of two things.

Either she was lying to us the whole time and never lost contact with him as she claimed.

Or he’s going to use her against us.

CHAPTER FOUR

CHLOE

THEN

TEN YEARS AGO

Kingston flicked the heater to high as soon as he started the engine, but I can’t stop shivering.

Logically I realize it’s the adrenaline drop. After living so many days in a life-or-death situation, it was only a matter of time before my body couldn’t handle it anymore.

Kingston curses as he looks over at me. “I’m sorry, Mama. I don’t have anything else to keep you warm, but I have a change of clothes and some blankets on the jet.”

Pressing my eyes closed, I focus on keeping my breathing even. I’m permanently on the edge of a panic attack, and I would do just about anything to be sedated right now, but I don’t know if that’s okay for the baby or not.

I don’t know anything about being pregnant or being a mother, especially alone, but every time I allow myself to think about the fact that I’ll be a single mom with no support system, I find myself back on the brink.

“The jet?” I whisper.

“We need to get out of Miami before they come looking for you.”

I nod. That makes sense. I’m a loose end they’ll want to eliminate, especially if they find out who I called to help me.

“Can you tell me how you escaped?”

“They left the door unlocked,” I whisper. “Salvatore came to kill us, but he got called away. I guess they thought the shock of seeing both of my parents killed would stop me from trying to run. I broke my thumb the way Damon told me to if I was ever handcuffed, and then I ran.” Tears roll down my cheeks, but I keep going.

I tell him about the tennis shoes I found by luck by the back door. I tell him about running from the dogs and climbing the tree. And then I tell him how I dropped from the ten-foot wall surrounding the compound.

By the time I get to the part where I reached the gas station, filthy and covered in blood, the car slows as we pull through a wrought iron fence onto what appears to be an airfield.