I didn’t say anything.
He jutted his chin. “That’s what I thought.”
We fell into silence as we blew down the road, the anxiety shouting so loud it drowned out everything else. My heart roared and thundered as we finally made it into the small city that was about two and a half hours outside Dalton that we’d made in two.
I barely slowed as we drove beneath the underpass of the freeway and the two-lane road opened to four lanes. The endless green fields gave rise to buildings on each side.
Stores and offices.
Apprehension lighting me up, I tried to keep myself in check as I followed the directions on my phone, considering I’d only been there once and it’d been in the dead of night.
We took the first turn into the family neighborhood.
Quaint and quiet.
Lawns fronting each modest house with kids playing on the street.
That only ratcheted my anxiety ten times higher.
Royce itched.
“Hate this bullshit,” he rumbled. “Needs to end.”
I made another right and came to a stop at the curb in front of the small house.
Silence took us over while we sat on the street and stared at the stilled structure.
Innocuous.
White bricks with a gray shingle roof.
A sidewalk cut right through the middle of the manicured lawn and led up two steps to the front door that was painted black.
Two planters on either side spilled over with pink flowers.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think a little old lady lived there.
So Kade might be in his 50s, but he was straight ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ ex-military.
When we’d set into motion the plan to get the girls out, Danica had known her father would step up and keep them safe.
My eyes scanned for anything amiss.
Pulse thumping so hard I could feel it beating in my ears and battering my chest.
Nothing seemed out of place, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel it. That I couldn’t sense this wickedness that rode in on the breeze.
Royce exhaled a harsh breath.
Dude felt it, too.
“Her truck’s still not here,” I said, stating the obvious. The one hope I’d had was she’d show.
I cranked open the door and stepped out under the Kentucky sky. Sweat slicked my flesh, this anxiousness that ripped through my senses, every single one of them on overdrive.
I tucked my gun in the waist of my jeans as I let my attention skate over the lot.
Birds sang in the full trees and the drone of cars echoed from the main streets in the distance.
Royce stepped out, too, same as Rhys, and the three of us slowly started up the small sidewalk.
Stomach tight.
Everything feeling…off.
Intuition told me we were walking straight into a trap.
But I’d walk into a thousand of them if it meant getting Violet back. If it meant protecting these women.
Decoys.
Distractions.
Whatever the fuck we had to be, that’s who we’d be.
Royce’s phone bleeped, and he pulled it out before he gave me a nod. “Casile has secured a team. They are coordinating now. He’ll be here by three himself. Warrants are being issued as we speak.”
“Thank fuck.”
I knocked on the door, two times fast and three times slow.
On the other side, there was movement, the rustle of a drape at the window before metal scraped as locks were disengaged. Then the door cracked open an inch, two chains still keeping it secure as Kade peered out to take us in.
His gray eyes were hard and fierce, dude worn and burly. He jutted his chin. “You clear?”
“We’re clear.”
He looked behind us again before he worked through the rest of the locks and edged the door open a fraction.
The second we stepped inside the gloomy house, he worked back through the locks and then turned to look at us. Could almost see the weight of a thousand lives riding on his shoulders.
“She hasn’t shown?” The question grunted from my throat on a vicious plea.
His head shook. “No, Richard. I’m sorry. She hasn’t.”
I scrubbed a palm over my face, and I started to pace, only to stall when I felt the movement in the hall.
Horror and misery.
It bound and shook and filled the room with dread.
Slowly, I shifted around.
Liliana Marin stood in the archway.
Stringy black hair tied in a twist.
Face still thin but so much healthier than the night I’d brought her here.
Eyes the same color as Violet’s staring me down. Though they’d been dimmed. The hope and joy drained from the depths that had once sang of mischief and playfulness.
My fault.
My fault.
That old agonized guilt wailed and screamed.
Knowing there was nothing I could ever do to take it back.
No way to erase her scars.
Only thing I could do was give her this.
Freedom.
Pray to God in it would be a future.
“Have you heard anything?” she begged.
My lips trembled at the side. “No.”
She pressed a hand over her mouth, and she dropped her head, trying to subdue the sob that ripped up her throat. “Oh god. Richard, I can’t—”