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The doors open, but I’m not ready to end this conversation, so I close them again. “My sister’s life is on the line. She might already be dead because of you.”

She lifts her chin, and the fear dissolves into something I don’t understand. “Why is her life more important than mine?”

I gape at her, still buzzing with adrenaline and anger and worry, making my emotions run too high. “That’s why you ran? You think I care more about her life thanyours?”

She blinks rapidly, her chin wavering slightly, as she stares down at her new sandals. Her lips are wobbling, and she’s trembling. “Of course I did! She’s your sister. Youloveher.” She looks up as if daring me to confirm her beliefs.

Tension grows in my chest as she slowly meets my gaze. Without really knowing why I need to, I grab her by the back of the neck and pull her in, pressing my mouth to hers. “If we get out of this, we’re going to have a lot to talk about.”

The elevator doors open, and I release her, alarmed to see moisture in her eyes. I slip my fingers into hers and gently tug.

She sniffs and clears her throat, tension growing on her face. “Just let me go.”

As if on cue, Jake pulls into the parking garage, tires squealing, before he leans over to open the door. “Get in!” he yells.

Samantha hesitates, so I pull her hand a little harder. “I’m going to do whatever I can to help you. You have my word.”

Her lip catches in her teeth, and she tugs at it.

“Move it, sister, Caleb can’t stall the cops forever,” Jake growls.

She swallows, looks at the elevator doors as they close, and then blows out a shaky breath before nodding. “Okay.Okay.”

Thirteen

Samantha

As I fumble with the seatbelt, a quiet thought creeps in—maybe he actually means it. Not just the rescue, not just the plan.

He wants to help me. Not because he’s being paid, or because someone told him to. Because hewantsto.

Mick slides into place beside me, glaring at the front seat. “Slow down,” he growls at the driver.

Jake doesn’t answer. He just cranks the air-con and glances at me through the rearview mirror. “Nice dress.”

I ignore him and turn to Mick. “So now what?”

He frowns. “We negotiate for Brooke’s release.”

Uncertainty curls in my chest, tightening like wire. But Mick’s voice stays calm, measured. “This would be the time to give me anything we can use to find them.”

I glance at Jake, then take a slow breath and make the biggest gamble of my life. “I can give you a bank account. If you find the owner, you’ll have a starting point.”

Mick threads his fingers through mine, not caring if Jake sees. “Thank you.”

My lips twitch. “You have a pen?”

He shakes his head and pulls out his phone. “Write it in the notes.”

I take the phone from him, tap out the company name I memorized, and move to hand it back to him. Jake swerves into another lane, and I accidentally slide my finger so all the open apps show.

One of them is the messaging app. In the seconds it takes Jake to straighten up, I get a glimpse of what I was trying not to think about.

Mick’s sister. In a typical hostage pose, holding up a newspaper. Her lip is swollen, her eyes show their whites, and there’s bruising on her cheek.

Animals.

I hand the phone back. to Mick, unable to meet his eye. “I’m sorry,” I mumble.