Page 2 of Devil's Lair

After I paid for my smokes, I walked out into sultry air of the dying summer afternoon.

I knew where her sister was. Any chance of getting to her would require a trip through hell. Was she going to be worth it? I’d decide after I touched her again.

I barked out a laugh. No one would believe me a savior but if anyone could barter the missing girl’s freedom it would be me. Wyatt “Bane” Nash Enforcer who would set one girl free only to trap the other.

The plan for it all laid out in my head like a roadmap for my actions to follow. I pulled out of the lot in my old Chevy Tahoe. It had no to Navigation… no chips or tech that could track my movements.

Iron Forge had only a few places to stay unless she had booked an AirBnb. Time to find the little bird before she found herself in the same sort of trouble as her sister.

CHAPTER 2

KENNEDY

I gotbehind the wheel of the cheap rental car. My eyes welled up with hot tears. Within seconds they rolled down my cheeks.

No one would help me.

No one cared.

And somewhere out there was my baby sister Alone.

Scared.

Kidnapped or worse… dead.

I dialed the sheriff’s office again. “Detective Roberts, please.”

“Who’s calling?”

“Kennedy Worthington.”

“He’s busy.”

“MY SISTER HAS BEEN MISSING FOR THREE DAYS! SHE WAS LAST SEEN AT THE GAS STATION OFF OF JENKS ROAD! PLEASE! WHY ISN’t ANYONE HELPING ME?”

I was hysterical.

Crazy.

The line went dead.

I’d hang up on me, too.

Except, I wasn’t nuts.

In my gut, I new something very bad happened to Rose. She was running out of time and there was no one to save her.

“I’ll find you, Rose. Just hang on wherever you are,” I whispered through my tear as I rummaged through my purse to find a tissue.

I caught sight of myself in the rearview. No wonder why people kept hurrying past.

My eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. My natural curly hair was fizzed to high hell from the summer heat, and I had a crumb from my sandwich stuck to my lower lip. My mascara was no longer on my upper lashes…

The bottle of water was cold an hour ago but the luck warm liquid soothed my hoarse throat. I dabbed a tissue with the remainder, tuning it to wipe my raccoon eyes. I slicked cherry chapstick on my dry, cracked lips, smoothed down my hair with a squirt of hibiscus scented hand lotion and squared my shoulders. Someone was going to look at my missing flyer and know something, I just felt it deep in my bones.

The gas station slash convenience store was right off the highway where Rose’s cell phone last pinged. We had an app that shared each other’s location. I had made sure she had it turned on when she went on this wild and crazy drive by herself.

“Come on, Kennedy.

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