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I cry out, pain shooting up through my legs, but I know that if I stop now I’m dead. And that’s just not an option. My knees sting as I stand and brush the rocks and dirt away from the cuts as best I can.
I can do this.Moving as quickly as possible, I keep walking forward. There are no lights in the distance, no signs of nearby houses or streets. I’m wandering in a sea of darkness, lit only by the dim moonlight overhead. And thanks to clouds, it’s not quite bright enough to see much.
Stumbling through the darkness, I reach the start of a long drive with two big ditches on either side.Follow the road, Lani, you got this.I can barely see, but that doesn’t matter because for the first time in who knows how long, I’m breathing fresh, clean air.
If I can make it to a road, I can wave down help. I can find a store. A phone. Someone who can help me get home. And once I’m there, I know my brothers and Gibson will hunt down whoever did this to me. They’ll make sure my abductor never finds me again.
I sniffle, tears stinging my eyes.
I just have to make it home.
Dear God, please let me make it home.
I stumble again, tripping and hitting the ground with a heavy thud. My heart hammers as I push up and note headlights turning down the long drive.No.With no other houses out here, there can only be one person behind the wheel of that car, and I’m nowhere near strong enough to fight back.
Staying low, I rush to the side and all but throw myself into the ditch. Still shaky from the drugs, I can’t catch myself as I roll down the side, and my head slams into something hard at the same time my body falls into the water that’s gathered at the bottom. I choke on a cry, and it comes out as a muted whimper. When I touch my forehead, my fingers come back coated in thick warm liquid.Blood.
The headlights pass by, and I begin crawling through the pungent water. I keep moving, keep going as fast as I can.
Someone yells, a furious sound that quickens my already racing heart. I pick up the pace. A storm drain is just ahead, passing beneath the road and connecting to the ditch on the other side. With my heart in my throat, I move toward it and slip inside, closing my eyes and barely breathing as I wait for whoever is up there to come and find me. I lay as flat as I can on my back so I can keep my face above the few inches of murky water lingering inside.
Minutes tick by, and tires screech. But no one looks in the storm drain.
I wait, still barely breathing, until I’m sure I’m alone. Then, I climb out the other side and push up to my feet, though I remain bent over, so I don’t stick out of the ditch. The chirp of cicadas is deafening, but if they’re making noise, then the chances that someone is above on the road are low.
I’m not sure how long I walk, but as my mind grows foggy again, my limbs getting heavier by the second, I know I don’t have long before I’m out cold. I need help—now.Otherwise, I’ll be dead, and my family will never know what happened to me.
GIBSON
Aside from learningthe emails were sent from Lani’s computer, we have nothing. Apparently, every nurse in the hospital has access to that office because it’s where they drop off charts throughout the day. Anyone could have gotten into her computer at any point during the day or night.
And with how busy she and Dr. Pierce are, they would have likely had hours to do it.
The brothers have all gone home empty-handed as well, all of them ready to meet me at the precinct first thing in the morning so we can go right back to square one. Retracing our steps untilsomethingmakes sense.
I’ll tear apart this town if I have to, and tomorrow is the day I start.
Door by door.
Brick by brick.
Iwillfind her.
And God help the one who took her. I clench my hands into fists at my sides and stare up at the cross sitting atop the altar in our town’s small church.
“Gibson, how are you holding up?” Pastor Ford takes a seat on the pew beside me. His gray hair is shorter on the sides and longer on the top, though tonight it’s disheveled, as though he’s been running his hands through it.
“Not great,” I admit. I’ve been seeing the pastor weekly ever since my divorce, trying to move past the pain and damage Kleo left behind when she cheated and took off on me. “I’m angry,” I tell him. “And seriously wishing I could get my hands on whoever took Lani.”
He nods in understanding.
“I’m lost, Pastor. I don’t understand why God would let this happen. Especially to Lani. She’s so good.” My throat constricts. “The best of us.”
“God doesn’t promise peace in this life,” he says. “And while I know that’s of no comfort to you now, it’s the truth.”
“I just want her back. I want her safe.”
“We all do.” He’s quiet a moment. “Something I lean on when I face trials in this life is that God didn’t keep Daniel from entering the lion’s den, and He didn’t put out the flames of the furnace. But that doesn’t mean He wasn’t there. Whatever Lani is going through, she’s not alone. All we can do is trust in His plan and have faith that He will bring her home.”