Page 64 of Beyond Question

“Dangerous men?” Rylan asks. “Who? Bill collectors or something?”

I take a deep breath, then shake my head. “No, honey, I wish this was as simple as unpaid debt.”

“Come inside, Paige,” Cabot says. He taps the privacy divider and a moment later, the driver opens the back door. “You don’t owe us an explanation, but I know enough about you to know that you won’t leave here while my fiancée is so shaken.”

My gaze flicks to Rylan again and my heart breaks at the fear and confusion in her eyes. He’s right. I can’t leave her so upset like this. So I nod and climb out of the limousine, then follow the two of them inside. Cabot stops at the front desk and speaks with the concierge of his building. Not even a moment later, a terrifying man dressed in all black and armed with multiple weapons appears from around a corner behind the concierge desk, nods to Cabot, then follows us as we walk to the elevator.

“Who is that?” I whisper.

“Protection,” Cabot and Rylan say in unison.

And, as much as I detest such displays of wealth and power, I’m so grateful to have an armed man watching over us that I could hug Cabot right now.

After a short elevator ride to the top, we’re safely deposited within Cabot’s penthouse. The private security guard remains by the elevator while we move deeper into the home.

I wish I could appreciate its beauty, but my hands still tremble and I’m so cold my body shivers sporadically, though I think it may be shock rather than temperature that is the cause.

I stand in front of floor to ceiling windows, looking out over the city below. Is he here now? In Manhattan? Has he already made it to the states? He could be down there on the streets below, walking around while I’m up here. He could have texted me from the airport. Or worse, somewhere closer.

He could be looking for me right now, looking for her—

I spin around. “Bronte!”

“What?” Rylan jumps, nearly spilling the glass of wine she’d been approaching me with.

My throat tightens and it's hard to swallow or speak, but I manage to squeak out a quick, “My phone.”

She nods and hands me the wine, then hurries off to find it. When she returns, I call my daughter.

“Mom?” Bronte says after the first ring. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

My pulse skids to a stop, then beats even faster than before. Why is she worried? “What happened?”

“That’s what I’m wondering. I just went by the office and everything is dark and locked up. Did you take a sick day? Are you not feeling well?” She laughs. “Wait, no, that doesn’t make sense. Why wouldeveryonebe gone?” She gasps. “Oh my god, is it Rylan? Did something happen to the baby?”

“No, no,” I finally say, finding my words. “Rylan is fine. The office is…closed for the rest of the day. A… um… work holiday.”

“Awork holiday?” She makes a sound of disbelief. “Come on, Mom, what’s actually going on?”

I sigh, then take a long drink of wine. “I need you to come to where I am, okay? No questions.”

“Okay.” Her voice is steady, all humor gone. “Where are you?”

“I’ll send the address.”

“Wait,” Cabot says as he approaches. “I’ll send a car for her.” He curls his fingers, requesting I hand the phone to him.

“Baby,” I say into the phone, “I need you to tell Cabot your location.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“Mama… you’re scaring me.”

My face crumples on a silent sob and I hand the phone to Cabot.

“What’s your location?” After a brief pause, he says, “Let’s just get you here and then we can discuss everything.” He hangs up, then pulls his own phone out of his pocket, and a moment later, he gives his driver the address and sends him to retrieve my daughter.

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