Page 32 of Vision of Justice

Sasha had thanked him for giving Ted the address, which meant he’d been watching the house and knew exactly where they were. Hell, he might’ve been hanging in the shadows at the gala, or followed the ambulance to the hospital. His skin turned to gooseflesh. Jules. He lifted his phone again and dialed his sister’s number.

“Where are you?” Please be okay.

“At the grocery store, why?” Her tone was pitched, alerted by the stress in his voice.

“Thank God. Sasha’s gone. Don’t go home, it’s not safe. I’ll meet you at the barracks.”

The quick intake of breath, then the squeak of sneakers filled the line. Jules was strong and independent, but if he asked something of her, she did it. “Be safe. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Sis.” He hung up and stared at his phone.

“Lambert? What is it?” Wright barked. How long had he been standing there? A shroud of dread immobilizing rational thought and movement.

A sour taste coated his mouth. “He has her.”

“Should I call in the hostage negotiators? What is he asking for?” Wright’s thumb was poised over a button on her cell phone.

“Nothing.” And that was the scariest part. “He has everything he wants.” They turned and fled toward the elevators, and Gus tried Sasha’s phone. If he could get Ted to answer, maybe he could cut some sort of deal for her safe return. The cell phone went straight to voicemail. He tried again, growling in frustration when the same thing happened.

He’d been too blinded by his lust for Sasha, and his growing feelings to immediately recognize the extreme danger Ted posed. He couldn’t lose her, not like this.

Hang on, sweetheart.

Chapter Nineteen

The car screeched to a stop, and Sasha slammed into the inner lip of the trunk. Her head thudded into the metal, adding to the throb pulsing there. Boots grated over gravel, and her breath hitched. Stupid, stupid. Tears formed in her eyes. She’d walked right into Ted’s trap, and now she was going to die without letting Gus know how she felt about him. He’d be so angry that she didn’t heed his warnings to stay in the house. Why hadn’t she insisted that she connect with Gus, to verify his story? Ted’s mother was never sick. She clenched her teeth together, forcing back the tears. They wouldn’t help to get her out of this situation.

Part of her was glad Ted had stopped the car. It was scorching in the trunk, and sweat rolled down her body in sheets. Whether it was panic or lack of air, she was finding it difficult to fill her lungs. If he abandoned the car with her in it, she’d die of heatstroke before anyone had a chance to find her. He’d stopped the car earlier on a dirt road, and when he popped the trunk, she’d tried to use surprise to her advantage and run, but he’d knocked her out with one punch. The next time she came to, her wrists were bound painfully behind her back. She had no feeling in her feet, so she was assuming those were wrapped tightly as well. Thank goodness she’d left a message for Gus. Once he listened to it, he’d understand that something was very wrong. If there was a way for him to save her, he’d stop at nothing to get her back. Not because she was his lover, either, but because of the kind of man he was.

“Nap time’s over.” Ted’s voice sounded different, unhinged. The bright sunlight streaming into the trunk blinded her, and she recoiled against it. Rough arms corded around her waist. She grunted in agony, the wind knocked from her as Ted threw her over his shoulder again. This time, she didn’t fight or try to get away. At least not yet. Ted could easily overpower her, but she was much faster. Her best chance at escape was running. She could outpace and outdistance him. All she had to do was convince him she wasn’t a threat. That she wouldn’t run. Maybe then he’d untie her, and once she regained sensation in her feet, she’d bolt and never look back. Leaves crinkled beneath Ted’s boots as he stalked somewhere with purpose. The way she was positioned only allowed her to see directly below and to the sides. A loose branch scraped against her face, and every so often, the side of her arm would thump against a tree trunk. Oh, God. The forest. Was she destined for the same hole Melissa Fletcher was kept in? Don’t panic.

“Where are we going?” She choked out the words, a dry, shriveled sound from being kept in the intense heat.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He turned quickly, and her head smacked against bark. He was enjoying hurting her, the sick bastard.

“Well, I would. That’s why I asked.”

He grabbed hold of the skin on the back of her thigh and twisted until she was sure a chunk of her leg would separate in his hand. Okay, so sassing him wasn’t the best choice, but this was still Ted. The man who was supposed to be her best friend, and she was beyond pissed at being betrayed like this. Livid at the crimes he’d most likely committed.

“We’re going somewhere quiet to have a long-overdue conversation.” He put emphasis on the word long, and a shiver raced through her. The sweat coating her was drying. That, combined with fear and the shady woods, made her skin chill.

“Couldn’t have met at a restaurant for that?” Her voice was labored, and not quite steady, but she wasn’t going to cower to Ted. He ignored her comment and kept moving, but the way his muscles tensed beneath her showed his irritation.

Paying attention to how far they walked would only help her later. They’d gone about two miles when Ted stopped, then released his grasp on her. With hands and feet tied, there was no way to prevent the fall. The uneven, rocky ground slammed into her body, and she was breathless from the nauseating pain in her ribcage and hip.

“I hope you’re happy with your decision, Sash.” He ground out her name, like it was a vile acid along his tongue.

She gritted her teeth and tried to roll to her back. Something shifted near her ribcage, and she hissed out a breath, immediately giving up on repositioning. “What?”

“You fucked the detective—cheated on me!” His fists were clenched at his sides, so tightly his knuckles were white.

“I—”

“Don’t bother denying it. That day you asked me to leave your house so you could answer the detective’s questions?” He spat the words and paced near an empty fire pit, not even looking at her. “I watched. Circled back through the woods behind your house.”

A chill swept through her. The memory of that first time with Gus was now poisoned. “You had no right. I’ve never been yours. Not like that.” His boot connected with her jaw, and flecks of color exploded behind her eyes.

“After your parents and brother died, who was there? Me! When you were a pathetic mess and tried to kill yourself, who stood by you? Me! All along, everything I’ve done, it’s been for you.”

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