He nods. “Of course. We’ll make arrangements.”
“Thanks.”
I’m called back on the set, and five minutes later, cameras are rolling. We save the segment about the rescue dogs for last, and Georgie falls asleep at my feet, softly snoring as I introduce the evening’s stories. When it’s time for the last segment, I lean down to scratch his head, and he perks right up. I walk to my mark with Georgie at my side, wagging his tail.
“Tonight we are pleased to offer an update to our investigative reporting on the local dogfighting ring that was disbanded,” I say. “The dogs that were rescued have been placed with foster families, and they’re being screened for health and behavioral problems. While the Nashville Area Last Chance Rescue will not have the dogs who were rescued recently available for adoption for another month, they do have many adorable and lovable dogs looking for homes today, and they are accepting applications. Take a look.”
For the next three minutes the tape rolls with scenes from the shelter and the volunteers training the dogs. The video department did a great job editing the footage, and I just know the rescue will receive lots of applications by the end of the night. When the video comes to an end, I’m back on.
“It’s natural to be hesitant to adopt a dog that was a part of a fighting ring, but we have a special guest here to show you why you should consider adopting one of these special dogs. This is Georgie,” I say, looking down on his cute little face looking up at me. “He was rescued from a fighting ring just like the dogs we featured in our segment last night. And I can honestly say that he’s one of the sweetest dogs I’ve ever met. With a little love and training, these dogs can be outstanding pets for any family.”
I reach down and scratch him behind the ears, and he puts on a show like he knows he’s on camera. He licks my hand and then flops onto his side, asking for belly rubs to the laughter of the crew. “Back to you, Bill,” I say, crouched down beside Georgie.
Bill closes out the final words, and we’re counted out.
Alan gives me a thumbs up from across the room, and I smile. I text Jon, who’s been nice enough to supervise the repairmen at my house fixing my window.
A few seconds later, he calls, and my stomach flips. “Hello.”
“You’re done?”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” he says. “The repairmen are just finishing up here at your place, so I’ll lock up in a few minutes and meet you at my house.”
I take a breath. “Actually, I thought I would go to a hotel instead.”
“That’s a good idea since he knows that you were at my place this morning. Which one? I’ll meet you there and I’ll bring your bag. Maybe we can get dinner ordered up?”
I should tell him not to come, given what Bill said. That it would be better to have some distance between us. But the thought of being in a hotel room alone with guards outside my room sounds so unbearably lonely that I can’t imagine that. I want to be with Jon. I want him to hold me. “Hold on. I’ll find out.”
“The repairman needs me. Text me the name?”
“Yeah, okay. See you soon.” I hang up and walk over to my hulking, suit-clad bodyguard. “Damon? Which hotel are we going to?”
“We made a reservation at the Rutledge Inn,” he says. “Is that all right?”
“Perfect, thanks. I’ll be ready to go shortly.”
He nods, and I head toward my office. I tap out a text to Jon telling him where to meet me. Grabbing my bag and changing out of my high heels, I make sure I have Georgie’s leash before my phone buzzes.
Good. That’s on the edge of town. Not too far from my house, actually.
Leaving now. I tell him. I’ll text you when I get there so I can let you know which room.
Sounds good.
There’s a typing bubble for a moment and then it disappears, like he was about to say something and didn’t. Then it’s there again.
I’ll see you soon.
10
Jon
I push into the house and greet the mob of dogs and Ben, who’s sitting on my couch staring at his laptop. “Hey Ben,” I say, running toward the stairs to pack an overnight bag to bring over to Sadie’s hotel. “I’ll be right back down. Just gotta grab some things.”
“I already packed you a bag,” Ben says, pointing to a small duffle near the door.
“How did you know that I would need one?”
He grins. “The security team called to inform you of the change, and I’m the contact they have. Given everything happening, the hotel is probably a good idea.”
“Yeah,” I say. “God, this is so fucked up.”
Ben puts his laptop to the side. “Is there anything else I need to know about this? I know we’re not close or anything, but you can trust me.”
“I do, Ben. I trust you completely. But right now, there’s not much to know except that Sadie poked the wrong hornet’s nest and she’s not safe.”
He studies me carefully. “Will Sadie be around more, or is this more a short term? I don’t care either way, but if you think she’s going to be around, then I can make accommodations for that without having to check with you every time.”
I smile at his concern. He’s a good assistant, constantly thinking ahead for what I might need before I need it. “I’m hoping that she’s going to be around a lot more,” I say.
“I can’t believe you two just met the other day at the studio,” he says. “Your chemistry was off the charts the moment we walked in that room. And I couldn’t understand why you insisted she get the interview. I mean, she’s not a bad reporter, but you’ve had so many offers. I was surprised you finally wanted to do an interview.”
“As far as you know, we met at the studio.” I point at him and give him my most serious look. But he sees through me. He knows me to well.
“Are you going to tell me how you really met her?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nope. Not now, at least.”
Ben laughs. “Fair enough. By the way, you’ll have to take her back to the Opryland some other time. I know you guys won’t be able to walk around there tonight, but they have those amazing indoor gardens. Since she’s new to Nashville, she probably hasn’t seen them yet. There are so many people who go there, it seems like kind of a weird place to take someone in hiding, but this security company is supposed to be the best. Maybe it could be a hiding in plain sight kind of thing?”
My stomach drops. “What are you talking about? Opryland?”
“The Opryland Hotel,” he says, frowning. “You know, where you’re heading in a few minutes to meet Sadie.”
“Sadie texted me and told me she was going to the Rutledge Inn.”
He looks confused. “That’s weird.”
“Yes,” I say. “It is. Somebody is lying. Either her or you.” Pulling out my phone, I bring up my GPS app. After Severus escaped the property once, I had chips put in all the dogs’ collars along with the passive ones they have under their skin. Georgie is still with Sadie, so I can see where she is.
It feels like forever for the app to load, and then I choose Georgie’s location and wait…And he is nowhere close to where I expect him to be. He isn’t at either hotel. In fact, he’s on the complete opposite side of Nashville and heading out of town. “Where the fuck is she heading?”
“What?” I show Ben my phone and see the facts register on his face. “What the fuck?” Ben sounds just as panicked as I feel, though my voice remains calm. Everything in me has shut down, because if I think about the reality of what’s happening, I might lose my shit. Sadie is being kidnapped. Right now. By the team that I hired to protect her.
“What did you say the name of the security company was?” I’d left it all up to Ben and assumed he’d done his due diligence. Ben isn’t sloppy, and I told him not to spare any expense. There’s no scenario I can imagine where Ben would have done this intentionally, so there must be something sideways with this security company. They must have been paid off to take Sadie.
<
br /> I feel sick. I trust Ben, but something as important as this, as important as Sadie’s safety, I should have arranged it myself. This is my fault.
Laini presses against my leg, whining. She knows something is wrong. I pet her absent mindedly.
Ben is scrolling through his emails to find the security company information. “Got it! Bursar Security,” Ben says.
That name sounds familiar, but it isn’t quite clicking. “Who’s the owner?”
He’s furiously typing as I watch the dot on the GPS get further and further away. We don’t have much time.
“Neil Bursar,” he says.
“Fuck.” The name slams into me like a bullet. I know the man. He is worse than Jack on every possible level. I’m surprised the name didn’t jump out at me the second I heard ‘Bursar Security.’ Neil Bursar is a crime boss. He’s been well known in the Nashville underworld for a long time and his reach is growing stronger.
His son, Patrick, was friends with Jack when we were young, and whenever Jack came after me, Patrick wasn’t far behind. Or if Jack needed bailed out of something, Neil and Patrick had a way of making sure that I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. They’ve always been thick as thieves. And now they have Sadie.
Neil and Patrick are the ones that had sent me to juvie for the longest amount of time, testifying that I stole a car that Jack actually stolen. Neil was always slippery. He kept his hands clean in a way that Jack didn’t, and that made him dangerous. Because no one could pin anything on him, and his record made him look like an upstanding citizen.
His testimony against me—the poor kid with a record—was almost a joke. All because I refused to take the fall again. Finally, I’d stood up to Jack and Patrick and all of them, and they’d had enough. I was lucky to survive that trip to lockup. That was the stint in juvie I’d told Sadie about, the time when I had no choice but to fight for my life.
When they set me up to fail parole again, the judge on the case looked at me and saw my desperation and the fact that I’d just…accepted it. That was my life. And that’s when he sent me to Frank. That’s when everything changed.
I guess I’ve blocked him out for all these years to forget about that time in my life. What if I had asked Ben the name of the company this morning? Would I have remembered? Could I have prevented this from happening?
Ben looks at me, his face a mask of concern and shame. “Really, Jon, they looked legit. I read reviews online. They were recommended.”
I hold out a hand. “This isn’t your fault, Ben. I’m sure that they do provide legit security for people, or they would never get clients. But I’m guessing that they also take bribes, and for certain people, if someone manages to get through their security, then accidents happen. You couldn’t have known, but Neil Bursar is one of the biggest pieces of shit in this city.”
“I’m sorry, Jon.” He looks sick.
“This isn’t your fault. They would have figured out something either way—they were watching. Fuck, Jack showed up this morning to push me into hiring people to protect her. I walked right into his trap!”
These people have already taken far, far too much from me, and like hell am I going to let them take one more thing. I’m not a powerless kid anymore.
“What do I do?”
I sigh. “Tell Jeremy what’s happening. Tell him not to do anything yet. If the cops are involved right now that will make the situation more dangerous for her. But we need to have them on standby after we figure out where they’re going. I have to make a call.”
First, I look at the tracker again. They aren’t out of Nashville yet, but they have a good head start. They seem to be moving slower now. Maybe traffic on the way out of town for the weekend. That could work to our advantage.
I hit Frank’s contact number, and he answers on the third ring with a laugh. “Didn’t I kick your ass enough this afternoon or are you that desperate for more?”
“Frank, there’s a situation.”
Even through the phone I can almost see him flip into cop mode. “What’s going on?”
I tell him as quickly as I can, summarizing that I fucked up with Sadie and accidentally pointed her at Jack, and that she went after him like a speeding bullet. I explain how I walked right into their trap with the security guards, and about Georgie’s collar, and with every detail I tell him, the guilt feels heavier and heavier on my chest, until I feel like I can’t even breathe. “They have her. Fuck, Frank, they’re going to kill her.”
“No they won’t,” he says, voice hard. “Having her location is everything. But you’ve got to warn her. If she can get away from them, or slow them down, that’s ideal.”
“Yeah.”
“This Sadie,” he says. “She’s important to you?”
Frank knows everything about me, and he’s always been there for me. He helped me put my life back together when I didn’t think I had a future outside of prison. And when things ended with Kristy, he was the one that helped me channel all my anger into something productive: getting me into the best shape of my life and finally getting noticed. He knows from my words and my tone exactly what I’m feeling; sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself. “Yes. She is important to me.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line for a moment. Then, “We’ll get her back.”
“Thanks, Frank.”
“Get moving. We have a lot to do.” He hangs up, and I pocket my phone. I need to change as quickly as possible.
“Anything else I can do?” Ben asks.
“I wish there were,” I say. “Just keep your phone on, and feed the dogs if it gets too late.”
He nods. “I’m here for whatever you need.”
“Thanks.”
I tear my shirt off before I even reach my room. When I told Sadie I loved her this morning, it had been accidental, and all day I felt a knot in my stomach like I’d made the biggest and dumbest mistake. Now, with adrenaline pumping through me, and the idea that Sadie’s is in danger haunting me, that slip-up seems like nothing. In fact, it doesn’t even seem like a mistake anymore. And if I get her back. Fuck, no. When I get her back, because like hell am I going to give up. When I get her back I’m going to tell her again. And again and again. Because I’m not afraid of loving her or letting her know. The only thing I’m afraid of is losing her.
Time to go.
11
Sadie
The big black SUV we’re riding in is comfortable, but we’ve been driving a really long time. I’ve noticed some traffic, but still, it doesn’t even take this long to drive to Jon’s house. Being new to town, I don’t exactly have the best lay of the land, but this seems like an unusually long trip when there are at least a dozen hotels within a few miles’ radius of the studios. Maybe they’re taking a strange route to avoid detection from Singleton’s men?
Georgie’s head rests in my lap, and I pet him as I try to relax. I focus on how relaxing it will be to finally get to the hotel. I’ll draw a bath, sink into the hot water, and close my eyes. And if Jon just happens to arrive when I’m naked and wet and covered in bubbles, well, we do want to make the most of the hotel room after all. As warm and sexy images fill my head, I feel my phone vibrate in my hand. I look down at the screen and my mood instantly changes. The slight anxiety I was feeling before comes back, times ten, as I read Jon’s text.
Don’t panic.
That is never a text that you want to receive, and has the exact opposite effect intended. His next text follows quickly.
Don’t react.
I type back quickly. What’s going on?
Whatever you do, don’t go into a building with them. Keep Georgie with you. Can’t explain now, but they’re Singleton’s men.
Suddenly I feel sick, nausea welling up in my stomach. These men in the car who have seemed so helpful and nice, who I’ve followed so willingly and chatted with all day, are working for the man who wants to hurt me. And they have me alone. Driving who knows where. I don’t know Na
shville well enough to know where we’re going, but I’ve lived here long enough to know I’m in unknown territory, getting far from the city center. No wonder we’ve been driving for so long. They aren’t taking me to a hotel.
God knows where they are taking me. Probably somewhere it’s easy to make me disappear. Oh God, the thought takes my breath away.
I take a deep, even breath in and out. Now I know why he told me not to panic. Every cell in my body in screaming for me to panic. To fight. To run. Because if I don’t, they are going to kill me.
Another buzz.
Get away if you can, but just stay safe at all costs.
Then, I’m coming.
What can I do? I can barely think, can barely function. My mouth waters as another wave of nausea washes over me. Might as well work with what I have. “Do you have a mint or something?” I ask the guy beside me; I’ve forgotten his name. “We’ve been driving for a while, and I get carsick super easily.”
“No,” he says. Am I imagining the harsh edge to his voice? “We’ll be there soon.”
“I don’t think I can wait that long,” I gasp. “I feel really sick.”
He leans away from me slightly. “Try to control it. I don’t know…breathe or something.”
The van lurches off the highway and around a curve. I take the opportunity to moan. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
Now I can actually hear his teeth gritting. “Hold it in.”
“I can’t,” I say, moaning and holding my stomach. I fake a gag, and suddenly Georgie is off my lap looking at me. “Please pull over.”
“Fucking hell,” the guy says under his breath. “She’s going to throw up.”
“Let her, we’re almost there.”
The guy next to me puts up his hands. “If she loses it, I’m not cleaning that shit up. You are.”
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