She nods, and I head toward the door.
“Archer.” The girl uses my name this time, and I turn to face her. Her blue eyes look up at me from under the tangled locks of her jet-black hair. “My name is Reagan.”
Chapter 27
Samara
Time is running out, and I don’t know how we’re supposed to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. With every hour that passes, I know that soon, Archer will be forced to do something he doesn’t want to. That’s what hurts me the most, knowing he’s the man I remember but living a life I despise.
“Here,” Hunter says, pointing at the screen. When I round the desk and glance at what he’s showing me, I know we can finally make this right. The address isn’t far from here, but we’ll need to leave now if we’re going to make it back in time.
“This is a town over. Maybe she’s been watching her sister’s activities.”
“Or maybe she’s helping her. We can’t rule out any possibilities.” Hunter offers easily, and I know that’s a possibility, but then, why hide out like this? The surveillance footage shows her with blonde hair. Nothing like Diana’s.
“Do you really think she would do that? Live an undercover life and do this shit?” I’m not convinced, but I wouldn’t put anything past her. Diana was a good woman, someone that was trustworthy. Many times over the years, she’d broken down when we sat around the table, drinking till the early hours of the morning, and she’d tell us that her life was far from perfect. I always wondered how she found me, but if she knew her sister was running the operation at The Factory, then she must’ve chosen me specifically. The question is, why?
“Something doesn’t make sense, that’s for sure,” Hunter tells me. “And that’s why we need to get out of here and find her.”
Nodding, I head into the bedroom to grab my holster. Shouldering it on, I make sure it’s secure before shrugging on the leather jacket Diane gifted me. Hunter is already at the door when I make it back to the living room. His gaze shines with excitement, and I know this is what he lives for. The hunt, the kill.
In the SUV, he starts the engine, and we’re speeding away from the cottage with dust following us as we make our way down the road. There aren’t many cars on the road, and this place is pretty much a ghost town, especially late in the afternoon.
My mind is still on Archer. The fear that they’ll hurt him runs through me, and I wonder just how much he can handle before he falls under their spell again. Years ago, he wasn’t chipped, and he still did it. He told me it was to save me from the fate that many of the girls in The Factory have, but it still scares me that he was susceptible to them. To their influence.
“You know,” Hunter says, his eyes still on the road, “this will be over soon. We’ll kill the bitch and shut down her operation.” He sounds so confident. Like nothing in the world can stop us. But that’s who Hunter is. He’s always been overly sure of the jobs he’s been on, and none of them have failed.
“I know.” My response is short, but it’s filled with fear about what could happen if something goes wrong. I’ve lived with the need for revenge all my life. I trained because I wanted to take Rebekah Ward and mutilate her until there was nothing left but the shell of a woman. And more than that, I wanted to watch that house burn down.
Hunter places a hand on my thigh, offering a squeeze. It’s his way of saying I’m here for you, and I feel at ease, more so than I have since I first saw Archer again. As the sun sets on another day, my heart aches because we’re still so far from the end.
The silence offers me a calm serenity. Before each job, we’d always sit quietly, allowing the adrenaline to course through our veins. I didn’t choose an easy life after I escaped, but it’s the road that brought me here.
An hour later, we’re pulling up to a small, detached house that looks like it’s seen better days. The porch is nearly falling apart, but when we exit the vehicle, I notice a glimmer of light in one of the windows. The curtain falls closed, and I know she’s seen us.
Pulling my gun from the holster, I race up the steps toward the entrance. I don’t think twice before I lift my boot and kick the door off its hinges. The old decrepit wood flies away from the jamb, and I’m inside the living room face to face with a woman who could be Diana’s twin.