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My hands tightened on the wheel as I switched on the blinker to turn into the cabin community.

“Okay, call me with any updates.”

“Same, Mathews. Later.”

The second I passed through the entrance, unease grew in my gut. Ignoring the speed limit, I pushed my foot down on the gas pedal, sending me hauling ass down the street. Gravel kicked up behind the SUV as I took the sharp right into our cabin’s driveway.

Both feet slammed onto the brake, I skidded forward, the front bumper inches from crashing into the porch.

For a second, all I could do was stare at what was left of the front door. My heart ratchetted against my chest as fear like I’d never known coursed through my veins, turning my entire body cold and my thoughts sluggish. Shoving the driver door open, I drew my pistol from its holster and angled the barrel toward the doorway. Silently as possible, I crept up the porch steps, cursing at a faint creak of the wood.

Standing just over the threshold, I swept the room, angling my 9mm every direction my gaze went. Stepping through the splintered remnants of the door, I moved toward the two bodies lying prone along the ground on the other side of the room. Aware of my surroundings, I squatted by the unmoving Sadie and pressed two fingers against her neck. Internally I sighed in relief at the steady pulse thrumming beneath her skin.

I flexed my hands around the grip of the gun, gaining some blood flow to my locked fingers. Carefully stepping over Sadie, I again lowered to the floor in front of John. Unlike Sadie, John looked like he’d merely fallen asleep on the floor, whereas Sadie’s arms and legs were sprawled out as if she’d collapsed.

With the first press of my fingers against his jugular, I couldn’t find a pulse.

“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath. Moving to a different angle, I shoved my fingers deep into his neck, desperate to find a sign of life. A light, unsteady beat appeared, but it did nothing to calm my rising tension. He was fading. Fast.

Knowing he had limited time, I flew through the rest of the house, clearing every room, every closet faster than any one man ever had. After clearing the last dark corner, I yanked the phone from my back pocket and dialed Peters.

“Miss me already?” he joked.

“She’s gone.” It was all I could say, the only words that were on repeat in my head. “Gone.”

“What?”

“Alta, Lady, she’s gone. Sadie, John, drugged. Send an ambulance.” The phone clattered to the ground, my knees right behind it, almost cracking the bone with the hard hit. Gone. I scanned the room, looking for something I missed, but came up empty.

“Fuck!” I roared and shoved up with a punch to the floor. Neither Sadie nor John stirred. Not knowing what or how much they were given, I rolled both to their side so they wouldn’t choke if they threw up.

Sitting back on my haunches, I pulled at my hair, allowing the sharp bite of pain to ground me.

Think.

I had to think.

But I couldn’t. Every nerve, every thought centered around the growing grief and desperation to find Alta. I let her down. I told her she was safe with me and now….

My gaze flicked to John and zeroed in on his blue-lined lips.

Immediately I dropped to my knees beside his head, rolled him to his back and pressed palm over palm on top of his heart.

Where in the hell is that ambulance?

37

Alta

A low buzzingfilled my ears, ringing in my head as I eased awake. My fingers and toes tingled, as did the tip of my nose and lips. I ran a dry tongue over my cracked lips as I took in my surroundings. I tugged on my wrists and ankles, but got nowhere except a slice of pain up my arms. Fear pressed against my lungs, shortening my breaths. The room was small, whatever it was—almost like a shed. The walls were made of thin ridged metal, half rusted but the other half shiny, as if they were brand new.

How I got in this tiny shed was a black hole in my memory. As was the way I’d ended up tied to the metal chair.

What felt like thin, tight wire cut into the cold flesh of my wrists. Thankfully my ankles were protected by the wool socks I’d pulled on that morning.

Even with the building fear and panic, two things ran on a loop, keeping me grounded to the present.

First, my shoes. Which meant they could track me. Cas had just learned about the GPS chips in all my shoes; surely he’d think of that quick. All he had to do was call my parents, get my general location and find me. Yes, it was a bit of a long shot, considering the signal had a two-and-a-half-mile accuracy, but it was better than nothing. No doubt this guy had a secluded place tucked away where he was sure I’d never be found again.