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Kane ignores him. “I tell you where Alex is and you let go of my family,” he says, then, “You also get rid of Rachel Anders for me.”

“You’d have someone killed because they know you cheated on your wife?” Hayden’s frown deepens.

All Kane does is shrug.

What a bastard.

“Where is he?” I grit out.

“Do we have a deal?” he asks.

“Answer the question, Isaac,” I stand straight, fury burning through me.

He takes a careful step back and runs a hand through his hair. “Kingsway Flats in Greenwood. Apartment twenty-three.”

“I’m coming with you,” Xander says, rising from the couch.

I nod and turn to Hayden. “Get him to Sying. Have Ian stay with his family until I say otherwise.”

Kane stares at me, his voice breaking. “What about Anders?”

I smile coldly. “That’s not your concern. But pray Alex is still alive—because if he’s not, you’ll wish I killed you here and now.”

Chapter Twenty-One: Alex

The rope digs into my wrists as I pull, its coarse fibres tearing into raw skin. The knot still won’t budge. My head pounds, and my thoughts are still fogged by whatever Kane injected into me. I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep for hours—or maybe just minutes. Time feels slippery and I can’t seem to grasp anything around me.

Cold slithers over my skin, reminding me of Jim and Irina’s home. They always refused to turn on the heating, and my coat was never thick enough to keep me warm. My teeth chatter uncontrollably. If I don’t get out of here soon, the cold might push my body into shock. I can’t afford that. I can’t fall asleep again. I can’t leave Rowan waiting, thinking I ran.

Rowan.

His face flashes before me, making my stomach knot. We were so close to something—

The door bursts open, slamming against the wall with a crack. Anders storms in, her gun trained on my head. Behind her, a hulking man follows, his bulk filling the doorway.

“Get him up,” she snaps.

I freeze. This is it. She’s going to kill me.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “Where’s Kane?”

“Shut up,” she growls, not even sparing me a glance. Despite being out of it, I can tell she’s panicking. Her movements are jerky, and a deep frown sits on her face.

The man with her steps forward, pulling a knife from his belt. Its blade gleams coldly in the dim light as he slices through the rope around my wrists. My arms drop, and I barely suppress a cry at the pain flooding back into my blood-starved limbs. Purple welts bloom on my skin, caked with dry blood where the fibres bit deep.

I sag in the chair, but the man grabs my collar and hauls me to my feet. My legs buckle, but I manage to stay upright, swaying unsteadily. The knife glints in his hand, too close to my face to ignore. This is my only chance, I realise. My body may be sluggish, and he is larger than me, but I may still be faster than him. I have to be.

Before I can think twice, my hand lashes out, grabbing the knife from his hand. He hesitates—just a moment of confusion—but it’s enough. I plunge the blade into his side, slicing through fabric and flesh. He howls, the sound feral, and stumbles back, clutching the wound at his side.

“Stop!” Anders screams, her gun whipping toward me.

But the man doesn’t give me a chance to press the attack. His meaty hand clamps around my throat, his fingers squeezing like a vice. My lungs burn as he slams me against the wall. Stars burst in my vision when he lands a fist in my stomach. Pain blooms, radiating out until I feel like I’ll split apart.

I swing blindly, but my fist connects with air. He laughs, the sound guttural, and grabs my hair, shoving me to the floor. The taste of copper floods my mouth as blood drips from my split lip. The stale carpet scratches against my cheek, its fibres stiff with grime and old stains.

“Wrong move, Alex,” Anders says, her voice calm now, the click of her gun’s safety loud in the room.

“I’ve got this,” the man grunts, kneeling over me. His hands clamp down on my throat again, crushing my windpipe whilsthis eyes burn with feral determination. He wants to kill me, and he might just do it.