Without a window or any other way to tell how long it’s been since Terrance’s goon left me in the small room, anxiety presses heavily on my shoulders. My spirits sink a little further whenever I imagine how upset both Charlize and Ryker will be once they discover I’ve disappeared. I try to keep my mind busy, focusing on the grisly fact that they could be harvesting the heart from an innocent victim in the next room. Most of all, I ponder why the hell King Marty would be down in this shithole along with me.

While doing cardio exercises to keep my mind sharp, I run over the scenario of seeing him a thousand times. Dirty dress shirt and pants, hands tied behind his back, face gaunt compared to the night I saw him at Pinky’s, there’s no question King Marty was also being held prisoner. Although he didn’t say a word, I sensed he was too afraid to acknowledge the fact that he recognized me. But why? Why is Terrance holding him here against his will?

It seems an eternity has passed before I hear the lock slide on the other side of the door. I drop down to the cement floor, wrapping my arms around my knees and moaning in an attempt to look feeble.

My captor strides in, cupping a hand over his nose and mouth when greeted with the stench of vomit. “Holy shit! What’s that smell?”

“My stomach hurts,” I whine, rocking on my butt. I was able to make myself throw up the chicken sandwich he brought earlier, selling the lie. The last few hours have been total torture with the stench of puke clinging to my shirt, but I learned to breathe through my mouth. Better to make these assholes think I’m gravely ill than give them free reign to violate me. Maybe it’ll even cause whatever monster’s doing the surgeries to think twice about taking my insides. “I feel like I’m dying.”

“Jesus Christ,” Walt hisses, looking back to the hallway. “Come on. Let’s clean you up.”

I make it look as if I’m too weak to stand, wobbling and catching myself on the mattress. Walt rushes forward to help me up. I lean against his hard body and glance up, looking him in the eye. He almost appears empathetic.

“Thank you,” I whisper, wanting to throw up for real. I’d much rather bash his head in than show him any gratitude.

Huffing, Walt helps me out of the room, towards the small bathroom. The hallway is exceptionally quiet, making me wonder if it’s either super early in the morning, or late at night. I’ve dozed off so many times for who knows how long that somewhere along the way I lost any sense of reality. But quiet is good. If I catch this asshole off guard, there’s a chance I can hightail it out of here without anyone else stopping me.

Walt leans me against the wall outside the little bathroom. “Wait here. I’ll get some water to wash you down.” He backs away, sharp eyes slowly traveling down my soiled shirt. My stomach violently churns when I notice he’s hard inside his jeans. “Better yet, take that off. I’ll rinse it off in the sink.”

“Please, you have to help me get out of here,” I plead. “I have a little sister at home who needs me. If I die down here…she has nothing. I’ll make sure Ryker rewards you for bringing me back to him.”

Deciding it’s now or never, I lift my leg, delivering a sharp kick to his groin before jabbing the palm of my hand into his nose. In the blink of an eye he’s down on the ground, roaring in pain. I sprint down the hallway, in search of my freedom. The violent thuds of my heart shake my entire body as I locate the stairway that will lead me out of this nightmare.

Adrenaline kicks in as I jump the stairs two at a time, holding my hand over my head once I near the door, ready to push it open.

But it opens on its own.

Terrance stands at the top, his surprised expression likely an exact replica of my own.

No. No!

For a split second I consider taking him on, charging at him full speed and knocking him down.

“Grab her!” Terrance roars.

Someone fists a handful of hair on the back of my head, yanking me backwards.

Letting out a silent scream, I fall.

* * *

My vision blurs in and out, along with a sharp pounding in my head.

The backs of my bare thighs rest on cold concrete. Bringing a hand up to the back of my skull, I find a large knot and release a garbled moan. I must still be in the underground shelter.

The fuzzy outline of a person waivers before me. “Terrance had the surgeon take a look at you,” a deep voice tells me from nearby. “You hit your head on the steps when Walt dragged you down, but you’re going to be okay. They put you in with me so I could keep an eye on you. Can you see clearly?”

I blink several times until the foggy haze lifts. King Marty squats in front of me, thin lips pinched with concern. A second later he’s pressing a plastic bottle in my hand. “Drink. You look dehydrated.”

The water’s tepid, but delicious and soothing. I slug it down, eyes still on King Marty. Unlike before, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt, but he still appears ragged. As I finish the rest of the water, I notice I’m wearing a long-sleeved dress shirt—the one he had on the last time I saw him.

In rare form, the old man’s eyes project kindness as he watches me, now sitting with his legs crossed. “You’re that dancer from Pinky’s…the one with my nephew.”

I nod. “My father owes Terrance a large gambling debt.” Clearing my hoarse voice, I frown. “Why are you here?”

“Because Terrance wants to watch me suffer a miserable, drawn-out death.”

“Why?”

He lets out a slow breath, eyes flickering away from mine. “Years ago, I started recruiting young women to be fairly compensated in exchange for their kidney. There was a shortage in the black market, so it was a lucrative business. But Terrance knew other parts were worth ten times as much. He betrayed me, convincing my investors to harvest every organ those poor girls had to give. Once I found out, I tried to shut it down. The minute he caught wind that I was onto him, he had his contacts with the FBI drive me out of the country.” The muscles in his jaw flex when he takes a deep, shaking breath. It’s difficult to believe the frail, elderly man in front of me once ruled the South Side. “I discovered he had started up again, and was snagging more students from the U. I returned to stop him once and for all. But I learned the hard way that I’ve been stripped of the power and respect I once held over the neighborhood.”

Skeptical of his story, I study his wrinkled face for a moment. Then again, what other reason could Terrance have to hold his former boss captive? “Why didn’t you tell Ryker all of this when you came to Pinky’s? He’s convinced you were lying to him. Why not just tell him the truth?”

Shoulders rolling forward, he briefly closes his eyes and takes a long, steady breath. “I knew once he found out Terrance had ordered the hit on Trask, he’d want revenge. I wasn’t going to stand back and watch my nephew die while attempting to accomplish something I should’ve done myself years ago.” His eyelids flip back open, and he pins me down with a heavy look of regret. “It’s my fault for hiring Terrance in the beginning. If I hadn’t put my trust in him, those girls and Trask would still be alive.”

Scowling, I shake my head. “Ryker deserves to know the truth. It almost cost him his friendship with his brother and Rook. I can’t stomach the thought of anything happening to him either, but it should be his choice whether or not he wants to avenge Trask’s death.”

He stares back at me, unblinking. “Are you in love with my nephew?”

“Yeah, I am. He’s a good man. If I make it out of here with my organs in tact, I’m going to take your nephew up on the offer to move in with him.”

Voices seep through the doorway, lodging my erratic heart into my throat. I still don’t know what Terrance plans to do with me.

King Marty grabs my arm, a spark of determination lights his gray eyes. “Listen to me very carefully, young lady. I’m going to get you out of here. Soon. Terrance and Walt are the only two down here tonight right now, so it might be the best shot we’ll have. You need to stay sharp, because I’m not sure when the right opportunity will present itself. But when it does, get the hell out of here as fast as you can, no looking back. Do you think you’re strong enough to run?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod.

The door swings open. I spring to my feet along with King Marty. Terrance’s eyes fall on me, radiating with disgust. He’s alone, dressed the most casual I’ve ever seen him in a button-down and khakis, but he’s still wearing that ridiculous fedora. The urge to strangle him for hurting Ryker and his crew spreads like ice through my veins.

“Glad to see you’re not dead,” he snarls. “That would’ve put a serious wrench in my plans.”

“Let her go,” King Marty demands. “I’ll pay double whatever amount her father owes you.”

Terrance laughs in a deep, rumbling sound. “It’s going to take a lot more than money for me to willingly release Ryker’s new plaything.”

Plaything? I bite my tongue, knowing I’d be an idiot to argue with a man who likely plans to murder me.

“You’ve had it out for my nephew ever since his mother died,” King Marty sneers, stepping closer to him. Terrance has him beat by a foot, and he’s nearly twice as wide as his former boss. “What the hell do you have against him?”

“For starters, he’s not your nephew.”

King Marty’s eyes narrow into slits. “That may be the most ludicrous thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Think about it. Lucinda slept with countless men back in the days when she was a dancer at Bunny’s. Probably hundreds. You really think it’s impossible for someone else to be his real father?”

My throat thickens. Ryker’s mom was a stripper too? Did he know? Is that why he was so adamant about me quitting Pinky’s?

A dark smirk pulls at Terrance’s lips as he continues spewing words at King Marty. “Your brother was madly in love with Lucinda, and wanted to marry her. He thought she was his, but that was never true. He was not the father of her first born. Lucinda was in love with someone else.”

The walls close in around me. If what Terrance says is true, Ryker’s real father may still be alive.

“How would you know?” King Marty demands.

“Because she was in love with me. Ryker’s mine.”

Although my stomach’s empty, it still lurches angrily. Terrance? Ryker’s father? Holy shit. If what he says is true, it could change everything. Paired with the fact that Terrance had Trask murdered, the truth could destroy the man I love.

King Marty tips his head back with a hearty laugh that rattles against my empty stomach. “If you expect me to believe a word of this, you’re a foolish, foolish man. Lucinda was South Side trash, but she was no fool.”

“Your brother confided in me on his death bed, said he was sterile. Lucinda pretended Ryker was his, and he didn’t want to lose her, so he went along with the lie. It would take a mere blood test to prove it’s true.”

I wrap my arms around my middle, willing this to be some kind of a nightmare.

King Marty’s laughter becomes a sickened sneer. “If my brother knew you were with Lucinda, he would’ve slit your throat in your sleep.”

“That’s precisely the reason we kept our relationship a secret. It started long before I began working for you, and it went on for decades. I had no interest in my child, only his mother. I fed her drugs so she’d always come back to me for more. When that slut threatened to leave me for another man, I did everyone a favor and injected her with a lethal dose.”

King Marty inhales a sharp breath. “You killed Lucinda?”

“You bastard!” I roar, staring directly into Terrance’s calloused expression. “There’s no way Ryker’s related to a monster like you. Why would a father want to hurt his own son by killing his mother, and kidnapping his girlfriend?”

His lips curl in disgust. “Because you’re a whore, just like his mother. I’m not going to allow my offspring to make the same mistake I did.”

Despite the sickening rush in my stomach, I boldly smile back at him and laugh. The insult doesn’t bother me. There’s not an ounce of truth to it. If anything, I was deprived of sex before Ryker.

But my flippant response must get under Terrance’s skin because he rushes at me with a guttural roar. King Marty jumps between us, knocking him to the ground. “Run!” he yells as they’re scuffling.

Dazed, I scurry past them into the hallway, taking a split-second to get my bearings straight. The sounds of King Marty and Terrance fighting among Terrance’s shouts for Walt follow me as I race to the stairway, silently praying that someone isn’t waiting at the top.

As I’m pushing on the door, the loud blast of a gun echoes through the bunker. Then another. I jump with each one, stomach folding over itself.

Oh god, was one of them shot?

Swallowing a growing ball of fear, I’m more determined than ever to escape. I’m able to swing the heavy door open, met with a veil of confusing darkness and the smell of rain. I blindly run across the dirt floor with my hands held out in front of me, water sloshing through my stomach.

Finally I catch a ray of light peering between cracks of the building’s siding and head in that direction until I find a door. Tears of gratitude rush down my cheeks as I yank on the handle, pulling the door open and stepping out into the pouring rain.

I’m literally in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing more than an empty lot where a house once stood, and fields of tall corn.

It’s eerie, like a scene from a horror movie. Not having any sense of direction, I take off on the gravel road, splashing my bare feet through puddles as cold rain soaks me to the bone. I move at a speed faster than I’ve ever reached on the treadmill, chills racing across my pebbled skin. If I don’t die from fright or a gunshot, it’s possible pneumonia will finish me off before I figure out where the hell Terrance brought me.

I’ve made it all the way down the long driveway before I hear the roar of an engine, and car lights flash behind me.

Fuck!

Before I can veer off into the cornfield, the car skids to a loud stop beside me in the ditch, kicking up a cloud of gravel and rainwater. I shield my face from the flying rocks, realizing my mistake when a set of arms snag me from behind. There’s barely enough time to turn and register Walt’s my captor before his fist comes at my face.

* * *

Warm lips on my forehead and large hands on my face among the sound of a steady beep rouse me from a dreamless sleep. With the memory of Walt’s fist coming at me in the rain, I startle fully awake, struggling to get away.

As the hands tighten on my face, intense baby blues fill my vision, locked on mine. “It’s okay, gorgeous. It’s me.”

“Ryker?” I take his bearded face in my hands, heart clenching, eyes watering. “Oh my god, am I dreaming? You’re supposed to be in Guam!”

“You’re safe,” he assures me, pressing his forehead to mine. There’s a hitch in his voice when he adds, “You’re okay, baby.”

Both confused and elated, I kiss him, crying against his mouth with the familiar velvety-soft touch and his rich scent. He pulls me into his strong embrace and kisses me back, brushing his tongue against mine until I’m warmed from the inside out, and my heart slows to a steady beat.

My soul soars when it sinks in that I’m safe in the arms of the man I love. The nightmare could’ve ended so many other ways, but we somehow found our way back to each other. Fate brought him back to me. Among tears of blissful joy, I break the connection of our lips to press soft kisses all over his gorgeous face.

I draw back to get my bearings straight. I immediately recognize the typical South Side hospital room from Charlize’s most recent stay. It’s a little outdated, but clean, and I have the room to myself. Muted sunlight tries to shine through vertical curtains. There’s an IV stuck in the back of my hand, and I’m wearing a fresh hospital gown. Best of all, I’m dry and warm. “What happened? How’d I get here?”

When my eyes return to his, they’re impossibly dark. “A bartender found you half naked and unconscious outside of Slick Willie’s.” He slowly shakes his head, lips trembling with rage. “Thank fuck it was her and not some junkie.” Sliding his hand over the side of my hair, he continues to shake his head, like he’s having a hard time wrapping his head around the situation. “Do you remember anything?”

My last memory involves Walt knocking me out. Why would he do that, then dump me on the South Side? “Terrance came to your house while I was on the phone with you. I figured it was Morrison—that’s why I hung up in such a hurry. He promised he wouldn’t hurt Char if I went along with him and didn’t put up a fight.” Realizing Terrance is not likely a man of his word, I dig my fingers into his arms and suck in a sharp breath. “Oh god! Please tell me she’s okay!”

“She’s fine. She was really shook up when you disappeared though. Gave Morrison a little scare after she forgot to eat. Her blood sugar went really low, but she was still with it enough to tell him what to do. She’s home with Raven, probably still sleeping. You were still out when I got here, so I promised Raven I’d call once you were awake so she could bring your sister to see you.” Concern floods his expression as he continues smoothing down my hair. “Where did he take you?”

“I don’t know. He forced me into the trunk of a car, used some kind of ether to knock me out. When I came to, we were in an old barn-like building, and he took me into an underground bunker.” I stop to run my tongue along my dry lips, debating how much of what Terrance said I should repeat. What if he was making shit up to get under King Marty’s skin? “They were harvesting organs down there.”

Ryker hands me a plastic cup of water with a straw, anger still lingering in his expression. “Drink this. They put you on an IV because you were so dehydrated. Other than the bruise on your face and a big bump on the back of your head, the doctor said you’re unharmed. What’d they do to you, babe?”

While taking a sip of the water, I bring my fingertips up to graze over my throbbing eye. My nose hurts, too. The way Ryker scowls, I’m guessing I have a good shiner from Walt’s punch.

“Who hit you?” he demands, venom dripping in his tone.

“One of Terrance’s men—Walt. He caught me trying to escape. I don’t understand how I got here. I figured he would take me back to the bunker.” I wrap my fingers around his thick wrist, stopping him from stroking my hair. “Your uncle was down there with me.”

Shoulders dropping, his eyes flicker downward. “My uncle’s dead.”

I gasp as my heart slams still. “What?”

“A cop found his body in the street right outside my house in the middle of the night. He was shot in the chest a few times. Guessing Terrance dumped him there to send me a message.”

A surge of vomit rises in my throat knowing a dead body was deposited that close to Charlize. What if they had gone for her next?

Most of all, I feel awful that he’s lost his uncle.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Tears spill down my face as I drag my fingers through his meticulously-trimmed beard. “Your uncle attacked Terrance, and told me to run. I heard gunshots on my way out, but your uncle made me promise I’d keep going without looking back.” My lips waver with a sad smile. “Your uncle was a good man. In the short time we were alone, he told me he didn’t know at first Terrance was killing those college kids. He came back to stop him, but they held him captive. Your uncle didn’t order the hit on Trask either. Terrance did.”

“I know,” Ryker tells me, wrapping his hand around mine. “We found Bender in Guam. He took us to meet with someone who knew the real story of what happened to Trask and those girls.” Lacing our fingers together, his eyes lock with mine. “My uncle really helped you escape?”

“Yeah. After I told him I love you, he said he was going to get me out of there.”

His eyebrows rise. “You told him you love me?”

Nodding, I run my teeth over my dry bottom lip. “I did…because I do.”

Darkness finally fading from his features, a little smile dances across his lips. “I’ve never been in love before. Infatuated, maybe. That’s probably what I was feeling the night I found you in Pinky’s.” Beautiful eyes glowing with sincerity, he drags a gentle finger up and down along my cheek. “But when we first got to Guam, Rook said something that made me think about us—how much you mean to me…the shit you do to my head when you’re fighting for your sister…or telling me that you believe in my music. Then Morrison called, said you were missing. I was fucking gutted. I refused to accept that I might’ve lost you, because I knew I wouldn’t survive it. And that’s when I knew without a trace of doubt that I love you.” The smile spreads across his kissable lips, making my heart flutter and stealing my breath. “The intense things I feel for you couldn’t be explained any other way.”

I’m overjoyed by his words, but reluctant as he captures my mouth. As he delivers a toe-tingling kiss, my stomach drops. This conversation is far from over, and the worst is yet to come. But I don’t have the strength to ruin him that way. How can I possibly tell him the man he’ll have to bury may not actually be his family?