Page 158 of Collateral Damage
Fuck!
I jump from my desk, not even bothering to turn off my computer, and sprint out of the penthouse, texting Sybil as I ride the elevator downstairs.
Cooper: Are you okay? I need to know you’re okay. There’s something we need to discuss asap.
The text returns as green instead of blue, indicating she’s still got my number blocked.
There’s not a lot of traffic tonight, and it only takes ten minutes to drive to her loft in SoHo. I bribe her doorman to call her down to talk to me.
She’s not home.
Double fuck.
I pace outside her building, my mind racing in a million different directions, picturing every worst-case scenario. I need help—shemight need help. I yank out my phone, about to call Arden to see if she can get in touch with Sybil on my behalf, when a text pings through from an unknown number.
Unknown: You really think I would let you ruin everything I’ve worked for?
The moment I read it, I clock what this is: a threat. Another message quickly follows with a location. It’s a private residence, not far from the city.
I jump into my car and race to the location. On the way, another text comes through from the same number.
Unknown: Don’t inform anyone where you are if you care about Sybil’s life.
At the next red light, I quickly respond.
Cooper: I won’t, and I’m on my way.
I screenshot the text and send it to my father and Ethan, along with a message.
Cooper: Sybil’s in trouble. I’m on my way to help her. If you don’t hear from me in half an hour, then send the police.
I put my phone ondo-not-disturbafter that. They’ll try to talk logic into me, and this doesn’t call for logic—it calls for action. At least I thought to bring my handgun before I left the penthouse. I never thought I’d have to use this thing, but after Sybil got attacked by that creep, I renewed my license and have been bringing it when we’re in public. Not to mention, I haven’t been letting her out of sight when we’re not at work.
Except I did let her out of my sight, and now she’s in trouble.
I arrive at a grand home surrounded by a large wall and a gated entrance. A security guard lets me through, and I race up the driveway, parking and shoving my gun under my belt.
I step out, and a second security guard approaches. The first one looked more like a rent-a-cop, but this one has some serious military energy. “I’m going to pat you down for weapons, so if you’ve got something, better remove it now. Also, you’re going to need to leave your phone with me.”
With a frustrated sigh, I remove the gun and hand it over with my phone, hoping he doesn’t notice how badly my hands are shaking. If something happens to Sybil, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Mr. Vale will see you now.”
I should’ve known I was dealing with a dangerous man when Sybil got attacked at the premier. The whole thing was planned. He wanted to hurt her then, and my gut says he intends to hurt her again.
Sixty-Nine
Sybil
Present - Age 27
I shouldn’t have come here, but when I got that text from Jonathan Vale with the video message attached, I knew I didn’t have a choice.
I thought I was going to Jonathan’s house to speak with him alone, but turns out, that was a setup. Now, I’m sitting across from Lance Vale and his nephewat Lance’s house, with a gun casually pointed at me.
We’re sitting in Lance’s home office like this is some kind of business deal and not a hostage/blackmail situation. He’s on one side of the desk, and I’m on the other. His nephew lounges on a loveseat to my left, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“We only wanna work something out,” Jonathan says, flashing a sickly smile. “Don’t be so obstinate. You don’t have a lot of choices, honey.”
