Page 138 of Resisting Isaac

Laughter follows, sharp and cruel.

It takes me a minute to figure out why that rings a bell.

Took the dad out . . . whose dad was taken out?

The answer comes even though my head is spinning.

Isaac’s.

Jack Logan was murdered. He’s the dad they’re referring to.

My blood turns to ice.

I keep my breathing slow, as I begin silently searching for my phone. My fingers brush against smooth plastic wedged in the no-man’s-land between the seat and the center console. The vortex of hell every dropped thing disappears into.

That’s just fucking fantastic. But I can see from here that the red light is still glowing. The app is still recording.

I stay still, heart pounding, trying to catch every word.

“We’ll make them wish they stayed out of it,” another voice says.

Diego’s voice is flat, emotionless when he says, “If any of them try to follow us, shoot them in the fucking head.”

I inhale sharply. Audibly.

A shift in the air tells me I’ve been made.

“Well, look who decided to join us,” Diego says, voice suddenly syrupy and sickeningly sweet. The click of metal is unmistakable. My eyes snap open.

A gun barrel hovers inches from my face.

“Welcome back, little mouse.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Now that you’re awake, we’ll swing by the Logan place, grab your things, and let that cowboy know you’re mine once and for all—so he doesn’t make the fatal mistake of coming to look for you and his spawn.”

I stare at him, my pulse a drumbeat in my ears. My hand shifts just slightly against the seat seam, praying the recording keeps going.

Because even if me and our unborn child don’t make it out of this, I hope someday Isaac will know everything.

The truth about what happened to his father.

That I didn’t want to leave him.

That I love him.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

isaac

She’s gone.

Vanished. Just poof. Into thin air.

“You haven’t heard from her at all?” Wyatt asks as I mope into his house.

Production resumed filming today, the company having decided that Elena and me getting married was enough to invalidate the concerns and legal ramifications of a contract breach.

But no one can get in touch with her, not even Ivy.

“Oh, I got a text. ‘Thanks for the ride, cowboy.’”