Page 266 of Cross the Line
My instinct takes me straight to the one thing I’ve been yearning for non-stop—Finley.
I’m pulling my phone out, turning it in my hand, when Eli turns to me, his face is scrunched, and his shoulders are hunched like he’s been holding his breath for too long. And I know he’s feeling it, too.
“JJ—” The dry gravel of his voice wrenches my heart to the pit of my stomach when he taps his wrist, the pleading look on his face quivering with every second it goes unanswered.
When he taps it again with no reply, I know our girl is in trouble.
“Call Natasha,” I tell him, pulling up the tracking app on my phone. “Says she’s still at work, but…”
It doesn’t make sense. It… it feelswrong.
While Eli attempts to get Natasha on the phone, I go through each of Finley’s registered AirTags. Each one confirms the office as her location.
Except for the last one.
“Come on,” I tell him, running to the passenger side of the SUV and getting in while Eli slams the trunk shut and gets in. “Says here she’s in the Rolling Hills.”
I enter the coordinates for the pin in the navigation as Eli starts the car and peels out of the parking lot.
“She’s in the middle of fucking nowhere,” he grunts. Throwing his phone into my lap, he orders, “Call Salem, make sure she’s safe. Then keep trying Natasha. She can get someone there faster.”
The urgency in his voice jams his words together. Hammering my frantic pulse into an endless scream pounding in my ears as I do as he asked.
When we’ve established that Salem is safe with Kailey, I focus on reaching Natasha. Meanwhile, Eli’s speeding through the city, eating at the hour on the navigation screen.
“Natasha isn’t picking up, Eli,” I bark when he hits a divot in the road so hard the seatbelt cuts into my chest.
“Maybe she’s in court. Keep trying.”
“We’re better off calling the cops,” I say, already dialing the emergency services.
After what feels like forever, giving them all the details we know, including the fact that Presley is out on bail awaiting trial for assault and battery, the dispatcher takes the coordinates and attempts to pass them on to the local Sheriff.
We’re twenty minutes out when she finally reaches the West Valley Police Department, and they send a patrol car. It’s going to take them at least half an hour to get to our girl.
Half an hour that she might not have.
CHAPTER 78
FINLEY
There’s a sweet dryness at the back of my throat, and with every jolt of the truck, it burns as the curdled coffee in my stomach lurches up my esophagus.
My hands grip the edges of the seat tighter when we hit another hole in the mountain road. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and the last sign I recall was for Malibu, maybe twenty minutes ago?
“Where are you taking me?” The question pushes out of my mouth with another sharp jolt that stabs through my brain.
Dark eyes turn on me. Narrowing when thin-set lips curl with a scowl.
“Ry-Ryker, please…” I don’t know where we are, but I know that if I buy us enough time, Eli and Jayden will realize that I’m gone and they’ll find me.
They will, I assure myself, squirming deeper into the seat until the AirTag in the hidden pocket on the waistband of my leggings digs into my side.
With a tug at the rope looped around my waist and elbows, I try to loosen the knots.
“I told you to stop,” he snaps, his hand darting toward me so fast that I instinctively cower away. Ryker holds it over my thigh, hovering for a second before he grips the steering wheel again with a grunt. “I’m not going to fucking hurt you. Alright?”
My pointed side glance is met with a roll of his eyes.
