Page 53 of Dirty Delivery

In the rare moments of reprieve, when the lights and music stop and I’m left alone in the freezing cold, I think of him. Rylan. The man who turned my world upside down. The man who forced me into his home, claiming it was for my safety. At first, I hated him for it, for taking away my freedom. But now, all I can think about is the way he’d look at me, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and tenderness. He cared for me, respected me, and treated me like I was the most important thing in his life. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him.

That realization hits me harder than I expect—I love him. Not in the way you casually toss out the words, but deeply, achingly, in a way that feels almost too big to carry. And I never told him. I’d been too scared, too caught up in my own defenses, to admit how I felt. And now, I might never get the chance. The thought tightens in my chest, not with regret but with resolve. If I ever see him again, I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him everything. Because he deserves to know, and I’ll never forgive myself if I let fear rob me of that moment again.

I’ve replayed every moment we spent together a thousand times, clinging to those memories like a lifeline. The sound of hisvoice, the way his lips would quirk into a small smile when I’d catch him off guard, the warmth of his touch. They’re the only things keeping me sane in this nightmare. I think about the way he always put my needs above his own, how he never hesitated to protect me, even when it put him at risk. He’s everything I didn’t know I needed, and now, he’s all I can hold onto.

But I know I can’t hold on much longer. My body is failing. The persistent cough that has started is growing worse, and every time I hack up mucus, I feel weaker. I haven’t had anything resembling real food or water in what feels like forever. Desperation pushed me to start licking the ice cubes they left behind after dousing me, hoping to trick my body into thinking it was getting water. It worked for a while, until they noticed. Now, the ice cubes are covered in mud and dirt, useless to me.

I’m dying. I can feel it in every cell of my body. Without a miracle, I won’t last much longer. My captors keep demanding information about Vinny, but I haven’t and won’t tell them anything so I can protect Rylan. Each time I refuse, they up the torture. I’m trapped in a cycle of pain and despair, and there’s no escape.

They’ve started leaving marks. Marks that will scar. Cuts along my arms and legs, shallow enough to keep me alive but deep enough to make every movement agony. I can feel the infections setting in, the heat radiating from the wounds, and I know it’s only a matter of time before my body shuts down entirely. The thought terrifies me, but what terrifies me more is the idea that I might never see Rylan again, that I might die here, alone and forgotten.

But even as the hope of survival fades, I refuse to give them the satisfaction of breaking me completely. I cling to the thought of Rylan, to the possibility that he’s out there looking for me. If anyone can find me, it’s him. He’s strong, relentless, and hewon’t stop until I’m safe. I’ve come to love him for that, for the way he makes me feel like I’m worth fighting for.

If this is the end, at least I’ll go knowing that someone cared for me, that someone loved me enough to try. I know he loves me because of the way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters. Because he stayed, even when I tried to push him away.

I think of all the moments we shared—the quiet ones, the loud ones, the ones I didn’t realize mattered until now. The way his hand would brush against mine, a silent promise. The way he’d whisper my name like it held the answer to everything. The way his arms wrapped around me, not just to hold me, but to shield me from the world. Love like that doesn’t happen twice. And I can’t bear the thought of losing it before I truly got to hold on to it.

But please, Rylan, don’t let it be the end. Find me. Save me. Before it’s too late.

Chapter Forty-Three

Rylan

Day Four

It’s been the longest, most agonizing four days of my life. Time feels like a cruel joke, dragging out each second, reminding me of how little time Savannah might have left. My mind is a battlefield, torn between hope and despair, every passing moment another knife twisting in my chest. I can’t sleep. I haven’t eaten. All I can do is focus on the mission, on the slim chance that we’ll find her before it’s too late.

Declan calls me. His voice is steady, but I can hear the tension beneath it.

“We found her.”

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. Relief and dread collide in my chest, leaving me breathless. “Where?” I demand.

“An old canning plant on the outskirts of the city. The Castillos sent me a video. She’s alive, Rylan. There was enough in the background for my source to pinpoint the location. We’re meeting at the warehouse now.”

I grab my gear. My hands tremble with a mixture of rage and urgency. “I'm on my way.”

Every second feels like an eternity as I ride to the warehouse. My grip tightens on the handlebars, my knuckles white as my mind races with thoughts of Savannah. The video Declan mentioned looms over me like a dark cloud, a weight pressing against my chest. I push the bike faster, ignoring the speed limits, the traffic lights, and the outside world. Nothing else matters.

The wind howls around me, but it does nothing to drown out the storm in my head. My imagination runs wild, painting vivid pictures of what they might have done to her. Each image is worse than the last, and each one fuels the fire roaring inside me. It’s not fear anymore—it’s rage, pure and unrelenting. They think they’ve broken her, but they don’t know Savannah. They don’t know me. And they sure as hell don’t know what’s coming for them.

Every turn brings me closer to the warehouse, closer to the team, closer to saving her. But it also brings me closer to seeing whatever horrors the Castillos have inflicted on her. My heart pounds as I pull into the lot, parking with a screech of tires. Declan is already there, his expression grim as he waits by the door.

"Show me the video."

Declan hesitates. “Rylan, you don’t need to see it. The only thing that matters is she’s alive as of an hour ago. Focus on that.”

“I need to see her,” I snap. “Show me the damn video.”

Declan exhales sharply. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Declan hands me a tablet with the video cued, and my stomach knots as I press play. Savannah appears on the screen, tied to a metal chair in nothing but her underwear. Her body is marred with cuts and bruises, her head hanging as though she’s barely conscious. The voices of her captors echo through the recording, demanding answers about Vinny and my family. Every time she says she doesn’t know, they slice into her skin. Her screams fill the small room and cut through my soul.

My hands shake as I watch. Her pain is palpable, each cry a dagger in my chest. I barely make it through the video before I throw the tablet against the wall. The sound of it shattering echoes in the warehouse. My knees hit the floor as a guttural scream rips from my throat, the agony inside me threatening to tear me apart.

Declan kneels beside me, his hand firm on my shoulder. “We have a plan,” he says quietly. “We’re going to get her out and take the Castillos down for good.”

I force myself to nod, wiping at my face. “Let’s finish this.”

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