Page 81 of No Longer Mine

So when he flicked the little switch for the child lock, I knew it was in my best interest, and I didn’t curse as loud as I had in his ear all the way out of the building.

He expertly maneuvered his way through traffic but instead of heading back toward my brownstone, he headed deeper into Brooklyn—straight toward DUMBO.

I rubbed my temples as I let out a breath. “Where are you going?”

His eyes flicked between the road and his rearview mirror. He didn’t answer me, which meant he was in the zone for some odd reason. I straightened in my seat and watched as Don’s hand twitched for his gun strapped to the dash by his leg. We were being followed, or Don was afraid we were.

“Do you need me to strap up?” I hated the thought. But we were in a car and it wasn’t possible to fight with fists and knives like we were.

Don shook his head once. “I was worried we were being followed for a minute. I don’t think any of your father’s men saw us or cared to remember or recognize you. All that matters is that your father didn’t see you.”

I clenched my jaw. I couldn’t believe we’d left her in the lion's den. “We have to go back.”

Don shook his head once. “No, we will not be doing that.”

“We left her there. He could sell her. He could hurt her. He could…” I swallowed back the words. “You know… You know what could happen.”

Don’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “I wouldn’t have left her to the wolves, Mr. Cristof. I know what she means to you, even if you don’t know what she means to you yet.”

I put my face in my hands.

“She went to find her friend as I was dragging you out.”

The SUV came to a stop in front of an unmarked industrial style building. Dark weathered brick made up the entirety of the building. One black door on the front of the building was all there was, with what looked to be a private garage around back with a massive roll-up door.

“What is this place?”

“This is where Scarlett and her friend were just dropped off. I followed them as soon as they left.”

I frowned. “Here?”

He nodded. “I’ll keep watch because I know we won’t be leaving until you get eyes on her.”

I kicked my door open and marched across the road. There was a code above the doorknob. Of fucking course. With a closed fist, I banged on the metal door. For a minute, nothing happened, but then the keypad beeped and the door unlocked.The door opened directly into a narrow hallway, and at the end of the dimly lit room was an elevator. As much as I hated guns, I wished I had one because this all fault an awful lot like a trap.

Instead of a button for going up, there was another keypad. I let out a breath, but before I could come up with a plan, the elevators dinged open. I shook off the chill and the creeps as I stepped into my own personal hell. I just knew this wouldn’t end well. I could almost feel it.

There was only one button in the elevator. I knew I didn’t have any other option but to punch it. The doors closed, and I was boxed in. Whatever was waiting for me, I really hoped it was something good because I had enough tension in my body to wrestle a bull to the ground. I shook out my limbs as I prepared for whatever was on the other side of the doors as the elevator came to a stop.

I held my fists up and let out a breath.

Another hallway awaited me, and at the end of it was another door. It was dead silent.

This felt an awful lot like a bad movie. Or, as Don said, a horror movie. I rolled my shoulders and marched down the long hallway. My footsteps echoed, each one swallowed by the thick silence.

I raised my fist and pounded on the door. For a second, nothing. Then— a sharp screech from inside, followed by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering.

Fuck this shit.

I stepped back and drove my foot into the door. It didn’t give, but the wood groaned under the pressure, the frame cracking just slightly. Another kick. The hinges strained, the lock barely holding on.

I reared back and slammed my foot by the door knob, putting all my weight behind it. The door splintered, bursting open, swinging wildly on broken hinges.

More screams erupted from inside.

Wildly, I ran into the room and looked around. It wasn’t what I expected. I imagined a torture chamber or something heinous. Instead, it was a dinky apartment. Scarlett was huddled on the floor with a laptop held up in front of her face. That little friend of hers had a gun pointed at my head.

She smiled at me. “I broke our last bowl, and the rest of my ice cream ended up on the floor because of you. What do you have to say for yourself?”

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