Even in the years we’d been apart, I’d carried Holt with me like a brand on my soul. I would hear the whisper of his voice reminding me that I was perfect just as I was. That I didn’t need to prove my worth to the world around me, and that those who were meant to love me would see it in me every day.
A twig snapped. Closer now.
My fingernails pierced the skin of my palms in an effort to keep my screams at bay.
A hand dove between the trees and grabbed me by the throat. With a vicious yank, Jude pulled me from my hiding spot. He shoved the gun under my chin.
“I planned on going easy on you. Got a little partial to seeing how wrecked you were by Holt’s abandonment. But I changed my mind. Now you’re gonna feel it, too. And I can’t wait to hear you scream.”
43
HOLT
My feet poundedalong the path, each strike reverberating up my spine. I knew Lawson and Nash had to be behind me. They would’ve started running the second they had a location. The second they heard Wren’s cries.
Because they loved her, too. She was as much of a sister to them as Grae was. And they knew if I lost her, they’d lose me, too.
Trees blurred as I ran faster, pushing my muscles to the breaking point and then begging them for more. Half a mile. How long would it take me to sprint half a mile? Three minutes? Two?
How much damage could Jude inflict in one hundred and twenty seconds? In one hundred and eighty?
Too much.
Flashes of a structure popped into my vision—dark wood falling apart at the seams. The instincts I’d honed over a decade in the military and security screamed that this could be a trap. I didn’t even care. I would let Jude kill me a million times over if it meant he’d stop hurting Wren.
My girl. She’d been hurt way too damn much. And I’d been the source of so much of it. I could be the end of it now.
I broke into the clearing and charged for the barn, gun gripped tight and ready. I stayed to the side of the open doors and prayed the dilapidated building would give a chance at cover. Expecting a hail of bullets, I stilled when there wasn’t a sound.
My pulse thumped in my neck as I crept along the barn’s outer wall and toward the doors. They were wide open. Too welcoming to anyone who might come along.
I strained to hear, and the only thing I picked up was the sound of the breeze in the pines. I ducked inside, dipping low, my gun sweeping the space.
It stilled.
Iron fists wrapped around my chest, squeezing the life out of me. A body lay crumpled on the ground—too slight to be a man.
Bile surged in my throat as my eyes burned. Each step I took was weighed with my failure—my failure then and my failure now.
A strangled sound escaped me as I took in the body. My legs shook and almost buckled.
“Not her.”
I said the words over and over, trying to convince myself of their truth. Wren wasn’t lying dead in this barn. She didn’t have a bullet in her brain.
I stumbled outside, sucking in air and trying not to hurl. Because it could’ve been her. So easily.
“Where is she?” Lawson barked as he and Nash ran across the clearing, Shadow at their side.
“Not there.” I swallowed hard. “Amber Raymond. She’s dead.”
Nash’s eyes widened as he tightened his hold on Shadow’s leash. “What the hell is going on?”
I scanned the trees, searching for a hint of anything that might give us a lead. There were no flickers of movement, no hints of sound. We would’ve all been dead already if this had been a trap.
“She got away.”
The words slipped from my mouth without conscious thought. But I knew in my bones they were true. Wren would fight with everything she had. She was smart. And more than that, she was fierce.