Page 11 of Shattered Secrets
And still, Michael hasn’t had enough. He runs the knife over my body, applying threatening pressure, enough to hurt but not to injure the skin. I close my eyes, ready to die.
But he stops.
“I want to enjoy you a little more. I’m not done with you yet. Let’s leave some fun for later,” he whispers in my ear, and another wave of nausea comes over me.
He sends a targeted punch to my stomach, and I crumple in pain.
CHAPTER5
Ethan
It’s late when I leave the airport and pick up the rental car. My only dilemma is whether to stop to get a weapon or drive straight to the address I already know by heart. From the news, I remember a man who didn’t look particularly strong, but looks can be deceiving. He may also have a weapon.
Fuck, what am I thinking? He has a weapon, for sure. He followed me with a gun. I remember the pictures on Ayala’s phone.
Unfortunately, California is not the best place to buy a gun. I don’t have time to bother with a license right now, either. Even with all my connections, it will take a few days. And I can’t get involved with the black market. Not if I want any of my business left at the end of this ordeal.
I stop at a convenience store that’s open twenty-four hours and buy a pocket knife—the only weapon they have—and an energy drink. Let’s hope that will be enough.
The road is dark, and only the street lamps light my way. At least the road is empty during these hours, and I will arrive quickly.
I stifle a yawn. After a full day and night of making phone calls and after a long flight, the lack of sleep is taking its toll. I shake my head and sip my drink, trying to get oxygen into my head and stay awake. I won’t be able to help Ayala if I have an accident on the way.
My phone rings, and I press the button to go hands-free.
“Yes, Ryan?”
“Arrived yet?”
“Almost.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Get her out of there.”
He huffs out a breath. “Perhaps you should take reinforcements with you? You’re not a marine, you know. You have no combat training.”
It’s true, but I don’t care. “I can’t wait. She’s been with him for almost three days. Who knows what he’s done to her already...” I can guess what he’s done to her.
Pure hatred floods my body. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before, not even when Anna died. And toward a person I don’t know and never met. I’m ready to kill him. I want to kill him no matter the cost.
“I know you want to save her,” Ryan says now, “that you’ve got it into your head that she’s your redemption for what happened. But if you kill yourself in the process, it won’t help. Don’t go in there alone.”
“I love her, Ryan, like you love Maya. What would you be willing to do for Maya?”
He falls silent for a moment. “Just be careful, okay?” he whispers.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. I know he’s worried, but what I need right now is courage, not hesitation. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful,” I say and disconnect the call.
I have to be prepared for any scenario. I don’t know in what condition I’ll find her, what she’s gone through already.
If she’s still alive.
No. She must be alive. I have to believe it. She has to live, and I have to save her. I must succeed this time.
I park in front of a two-story stone house in a prestigious neighborhood in San Francisco. A quiet neighborhood. Neighbors who have no idea what’s going on in the house next door. It’s late night, and there’s not a soul outside. The house windows are dark as well.
It would be best to wait. Michael would leave for work in the morning, and then I could go in and look for her without risk. But I can’t wait. A few more hours is a few more hours of hell for Ayala. A few more hours will be on my already shaky conscience. After all, she’s here only because of me.
