Page 128 of Liars

“What do you want?” No greeting. No pleasantries. Just Brock Taylor’s voice, sharp as broken glass. The fact that he picked up my call was enough.

I exhaled through my nose. “Tell me where she is.”

A bitter chuckle came through the other end. “Why the fuck would I help you?”

“Because, believe it or not, we both want the same thing.”

“I highly doubt that.”

I hadn’t expected this to be easy, but I didn’t have time to be delicate. I gritted my teeth. “I know you were at Public earlierthis week. There’s only one reason you’d set foot in that school, and we both know who you were there to see.”

“Your point?”

“You were worried about her.” Just like me, I silently added.

“Are you trying to tell me Public’s infamous Raven actually gives a shit about someone outside his crew?” His voice dripped with skepticism. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

I didn’t have the luxury for this kind of delay. “Look, I can’t afford to waste time convincing you otherwise. If you won’t help me, this call is over.”

A heavy sigh on the other end. “Perhaps she doesn’t want you to find her.”

His words punched through me like a fist. “What do you know?” I demanded, my grip on the phone tightening.

“More than you’d like.”

I clenched my jaw. “I warned her I was trouble.”

“That’s something I would say.” His voice was oddly quiet, contemplative. Then, a shift in tone—steely and unyielding. “Fine. I’ll text you the address, but listen to me and listen good. Kaylor walks out on her own accord. If she wants to stay, then you leave. She won’t be forced or manipulated. Her future is her choice.”

I exhaled slowly, my rage teetering on a thread. I’d agree to whatever terms he wanted, but it didn’t mean I intended to abide by them. Brock should know better than to trust me and believe I was an honorable man. My reputation, which he seemed to know something about, would have plainly told him otherwise.

He wasn’t stupid.

But then again—neither was I.

“Fine,” I said.

“Don’t make me regret this, Corvo.”

I ended the call, and an address popped up on my screen seconds later.

I didn’t hesitate. I hit the gas. We were getting her back.

One way or another.

32

KAYLOR

After the masked men drove off with me in the back seat, I half expected to be tied up or threatened. They hadn’t said a word after demanding I hand over my phone, and I did so without an argument. When the car stopped in front of Viper’s Auto Pro, my father’s shop, my confusion tripled.

Why were we here?

The question was on the tip of my tongue when the driver got out, taking my phone with him, and dashed inside the building, only to emerge a minute later. Then we were back on the road.

Not having my phone made me feel naked and defenseless, but I didn’t have time to dwell on my vulnerabilities. Fear took a front seat as the sedan pulled into a gated warehouse, the entrance opening electronically as the car approached.

Where the hell are we?

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