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“Find her. Keep her.”

Sitting in my seat on the airplane, I felt helpless. My knee bounced with anxiety, thinking about the time it would take to reach New York. The only consolation was that Freyja wasn’t far ahead of me, maybe an hour. Two at most.

Almost five hours later, I stood on the front steps of the Malpas estate waiting for someone to answer the door.

When it finally opened, a man about my age, maybe a few years older asked, “Can I help you?”

“I need to see Freyja.”

“And you are?”

“Duncan Murphy, sir.” I held out my hand, and he took it.

“Freyja isn’t home. She’s in Louisiana with her sister.” The man I assumed was Woodlawn Malpas leaned against the door frame and studied me. It wasn’t lost on me that he never invited me in.

“She left this morning, sir.”

He pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call. “She isn’t answering. Let me call her sister.”

The phone to his ear, Woodlawn narrowed his eyes at me. His hand dropped between us and he hit the speaker button.

“Duncan. She’s in Boston. You need to hurry. My brother and his club are on the way. You need to get there first.”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ tell me she was flying to Boston?” I growled.

“Watch your tone, son, talking to my daughter.”

“I told you to go home, Duncan. You didn’t listen.”

Expelling a heavy breath, I asked, “Athena, how do I find her?”

“The Krueger brothers.”

“FUCK!”

I pulled out my own phone and called Sal. “You home?”

“Yea.”

“Get everyone to the building where the Krueger brothers died. Freyja’s there.”

“What the fuck is she doing there?”

“I don’t know, Sal, I’m hours away. Get there and bring her home.”

“On our way.”

I turned to leave, and Freyja’s father stopped me. “If my daughter is hurt in any way.”

“I promise I will keep her safe. But I have to go.”

“JEFFREY!”

“Yes, sir?” An older man in a suit stepped up to the doorway.

“We need to get to Boston. Quickly.”

“Yes, sir.”