Page 102 of Callum
Callum’s chest tightened. “Blood?” The fucker had hurt her?
Flynn pressed his foot harder to the gas.
“It’s not much, just a few drops here and there.” Wind blew over the line. “I’m going to head to the location now.”
“We’re half an hour away,” Callum said through gritted teeth. Too damn far.
He hung up, clenching the phone so tightly in his fist it was close to being crushed.
Flynn looked at him. “We won’t be too late. He would have gone the speed limit to avoid detection, so we’re going to make up ground.”
“If I’d just realized earlier—”
“Don’t do that to yourself. She spent months making sure she was a perfect replica of Fiona, even going as far as to practice on people she knew. She would have fooled anyone.”
He should have paid closer damn attention.
Flynn shot him a glance. “We have to be smart when we get there.”
“You think I won’t be?”
“I think if we find Fiona in a dangerous situation, you might put yourself at risk to save her.”
Damn straight he would. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d watch her die to protect himself.
The gun felt heavy in his harness. If they’d harmed a hair on her head, he wouldn’t use it. He’d tear the assholes apart with his bare hands. No pause. No hesitation.
“We remember our training,” Flynn said quietly. “And we get everyone out alive.”
They sure as hell better.
* * *
Fiona focusedon deep breaths to keep from being sick. She’d come in and out of consciousness for a while, the consistent hum of the engine continuing to pull her under. The ache in her head combined with the drugs still flowing through her system was unrelenting. It stole almost all her energy.
She didn’t know how long had passed before she finally turned to look at Freddie. He hadn’t bound her wrists again, but she knew that if she tried her door, it would be locked. He looked so calm now. Because he thought he’d won? God, she wanted to hit the smugness out of him. The asshole really thought he could just keep her? Hell no.
Her gaze lowered to his side, where she’d stabbed him. He’d wrapped some gauze around his waist and the blood on his shirt was now dry.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice cutting through the silence.
Was he serious? “No, Freddie. I’m notokay. I’ve been drugged, hit on the head, and kidnapped while another woman takes my life!”
Only a freaking psychopath would think she’d be okay after all of that.
He swallowed, his knuckles whitening on the wheel. “You stabbed me and ran, Fiona. You should consider yourself lucky that all I did was hit you.”
A low laugh that was the furthest thing from humorous escaped her lips. “You’re right. Thank you for hitting me over the head and kidnapping me, Freddie. Thank you for deciding this was the better option than going to the police when Olivia told you what she planned to do.”
His sharp breath was audible in the car. “Sarcasm isn’t attractive on you. And I’m doing what I think is best for us.”
“No. You’re doing what you think is best foryou.” She sucked in a long breath in an attempt to keep the nausea and light-headedness at bay. Then she straightened and touched his arm, needing to convince him to turn this car around. “Freddie. You need help. I’m not sure when this spiral in your mental health started, but normal people donotkidnap women.”
His chest rose and fell so heavily, she wondered if maybe she was getting through to him. “It started when you left me. When Amanda started criticizing every aspect of my life. Wanting to know where I was every second of the goddamn day. When she started shopping for cribs when there was no fucking baby!”
He slammed his fist against the wheel, and she jumped, snatching her hand back.
“It started,” he continued, “when I tried to replace you with Stacey. But she wasn’t you. Not even close. It started when I saw you with another man. When you teased me with the idea that we could be together again, then pulled away. When we had a blissful night together.”
