Page 137 of Pretty Little Threats

She’s gone.

My pulse is racing so fast, my limbs shake.

They took her.

My heart threatens to stop.

She’s in danger.

There’s one person I can think of who would want her.

Joseph Miller.

The man responsible for so much death. If he’d kill his own wife, what’s to stop him from killing his daughter?

My lungs ache for air, but I can’t breathe. Can’t inhale. Can’t exhale. I’m frozen. Rooted to the spot. He’s going to take her too. Just like he’s taken everything else from me. I’ve lost so much. I can’t lose her too.

She has my heart—no, my entire soul—and if he kills her...

“Fuck!” I shout, threading my fingers through my hair and tugging on the strands to ground myself, but it doesn’t work. I’m so furious, my teeth rattle.

Remy bends over, hands on his knees as he pants.

My head is racing as fast as my heart. Whoever took her is going to pay. I’m going to make them all suffer. I start in the direction of the van again, but Remy grabs my arm.

“We’ll never catch them on foot,” he says.

“They took her, Rem. They fucking took my wife!” I shout, voice cracking.

“We’ll find her.” He sounds so sure.

Frustration rumbles in my chest. “He did this.”

Remy sighs. “Probably.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

As soon as Remy convinced me to go back to my house, he calls to get a location on Joseph. We’re hoping Daddy Dearest wants one last conversation with his daughter before he orders someone to kill her. A terrible voice in my head whispers that we might already be too late, but if I listen to that, I don’t know what I’ll do.

How do you make a man suffer when he doesn’t know how to love?

Destroy everything Joseph has ever touched.

All of that has to wait, though. I have to operate likeshe’s still alive. Fuck her dad, I want my woman. I’m numb by the time I shut the front door, focused on one thing and one thing alone—getting Rose back.

Remy digs through the box she left. I have my contacts find me Rose’s best friend’s number. During our argument, Rose told me she had a PI. I have one, too, but hers knows more than mine, and I don’t have time to try and catch someone up.

The phone rings three times and the sound warbles in my ear. I shake my head, trying to get a grip, but all I can see is the way Rose looked at me before she was taken. Vulnerable. Relieved.

“Hello?” a soft voice answers.

“This is Dare.”

A pause, an inhalation, and then, “What do you want?” The softness from before is gone. I can see why Cassia and Rose are friends.

“Rose is in danger. I need the name of her private investigator.”

“What?” Her voice goes up an entire octave. “What happened?”

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