Page 131 of The Road Less Traveled By

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you here forever, Bree. Don’t fucking test me.”

I’m done listening to his rules. I’m going to fight, and I might die trying, but I’m not letting him do this to me again. I’m not letting him keep taking things from me. “Get the fuck off me!” I scream.

“Bree, don't you fucking ruin this again!” he roars as he slaps me across the face.

Fuck, that burns, but I keep fighting. I try to squirm from underneath him, but he’s too strong, and when I hear something rip, I think it’s my pajamas.

But then my mouth is covered, duct tape pressed against my mouth, and I can barely breathe as the panic sets in.

“You’re going to shut the fuck up, and you’re going to sit still so I can have my way with you!”

The last thing I hear before I pass out is Ralph mumbling something I can’t understand.

Chapter forty

— DAYLIGHT BY DAVID KUSHNER

A noise has myhead jerking up from where it lays against my desk.

“What was that?” I say over comms, and when nobody responds, I head for my front door. As I swing it open, my guys guarding the house meet my gaze. “Anything to report?”

“No, sir,” Chris tells me, and I take a breath.

“I’ll be upstairs with Bree. We’ll talk in the morning,” I say as I look at my watch. “Well, when the sun’s up and the shift changes.”

“Got it. Have a good night, boss.”

“You too. Call me if anything changes,” I say as I close the door, and I all but drag myself up to Bree’s room. I’ve got to stop falling asleep at my desk. I’m working myself dry, but we still have nothing on Ralph. We’ve been checking paparazzi photos for similar faces and Nico’s running facial recognition on the crowds, but all we have is a load of nothing so far. Some crowd members have DUIs, but Ralph hasn't been spotted in any photos.

Yet again, we’ve reached a dead end, and I have no idea how the motherfucker keeps hiding from us. It’s pissing me off.

I open the door to Bree’s room, the glow of her night light making it easy for me to get to her closet so I can change into comfierclothes.

But when I get in and see its contents all over the floor, my guard flies up. Bree is organized as fuck. She never would’ve gone to sleep with this mess.

My pulse picks up, and when I rush to her bed, she’s not there.

A note sits on her pillow, along with a picture of her sleeping—or passed out, I’m not sure which.

Fuck! He fucking has her. He was under this roof, and since I wasn't up sleeping with her, he grabbed her.

I grab the note, and the urge to kill him gets stronger.

Checkmate.

– R.

My heart is beating out of my chest as I pull my phone out, dialing the first person on my speed dial.

“It’s too fucking early—”

I cut him off. “Bree’s gone.”

“I’ll be over in ten,” Nico says as he curses and hangs up the phone.

I race down the stairs and throw open the door. “Get the day shift up, now! Bree’s missing and Ralph has her. Search the entire fucking property. Nico’s on his way.”

“On it, boss,” Chris says.

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