After lunch, Ryan accompanies me to pick up Avery from preschool. It’s a quick fifteen-minute ride from the ranch, and it gives her some needed playtime with her peers. I park the car and we stroll across the parking lot toward the play area. There are a few children playing behind the fence, but I don’t see Avery.

I open the door and proceed to the back where the large classroom is. Ms. Marcie is sitting at one of the desks, but there are no other students in sight. “Excuse me, do you know where Avery is?” I ask.

Picking up her head from the stack of papers, she looks confused, her forehead furrowed and nose scrunched. “Avery left.”

“I’m sorry?” I choke out. “What do you mean ‘she left’?” I look at Ryan, who’s just as puzzled as I am.

“Yes. About a half an hour ago. She left with her father, Mr. Miller.”

“No,” I whisper. All of my hidden fears come screaming out of my mind.

“Why would you let her go with him?” Ryan roars. He paces across the room in even strides, his feet thumping across the wood floor.

“Well, he showed me identification, said he was surprising her with a special dinner,” she argues, her voice becoming panicky. “Avery ran right to him.” Her voice trails off once she realizes she’s made a huge mistake.

“This can’t be happening,” I wail, my hands flying to cover the stream of tears rolling down my face. “He’s not listed on the release forms as someone who can take her!”

Ryan stops walking in circles and moves toward me. “It’ll be all right,” he insists, wrapping his arms around me. “We’ll get her back.”

“I’m sorry,” Ms. Marcie blurts. ‘I-I didn’t know.”

Turning away from Ryan, I look directly at her. She’s paler than a ghost. With the back of my hands, I wipe my tear-stained cheeks. “You have no idea what you’ve done. They could be halfway to Canada by now.”

“I’m so sorry,” is all she can say.

I can’t look at her any longer, so I focus my attention on Ryan.

He’s furious.

His rage holds all the power of a wildfire. The flames roar in his eyes, ready to ignite anything he comes in contact with.

His jaw is clenched, and if I didn’t know him any better, I’d be afraid for my life.

But I do know him.

I know he’d do anything for Avery, and that comforts me.

I can’t fall apart—not now. There will be plenty of time for that when we find her.

And we will find her.

Placing my hand on his stubbly cheek, I say, “We need to go.”

He snaps out of his anger-fueled haze, and his eyes soften. “Don’t you worry. That son of a bitch is going to regret the pain he’s caused you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Seeing Montana in pain infuriates me.

Seeing her in pain because of her fucking ex-husband…he’s going to wish he was never born.

I need to focus, just like I did as a SEAL—with my eye in the sniper scope.

Focus all of my energy on finding that sweet angel.

Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I coax her out of the daycare center and back to my truck. “I’m going to take you home, then I’m going to go for a little ride. Give me your keys. I’m driving.”

Montana hands me the set of keys. “Where are you going to go?” she whispers as I open the passenger side door for her.

“You said Danny’s father lives around here. Right?” Once her seatbelt is securely fastened, I walk around to the driver’s side.

“Yes, but he’s not stupid enough to take Avery there,” she divulges as I start the car.

“Don’t be so sure about that. You did say his father has a lot of pull in this town, right?

Screeching out of the parking lot, I floor it toward the ranch.

“Yes,” she agrees, but I cut her off before she can say anything else.

“He’ll go there because he thinks he’s untouchable. I’d bet my life on it.” The fifteen-minute drive takes me eight. I slam on the breaks right in front of the porch, then turn to Montana. “What’s the address?”

Sighing, she shakes her head and exits the car.

“Montana, I want that address,” I call out the car window as she begins to walk toward the house.

She pauses for a moment, then turns and walks back toward me. Leaning her folded arms on the window, she whispers, “Just come inside. I’ll call the police and they can handle it.” Her glossy eyes beg me to stay.

I can’t do that.

I need to bring Avery home where she belongs.

“Do you trust me?” My question lingers in the air for a moment.

“Yes.”

“Then give me the address.”

“Give me your phone.” I place my phone in her open hand, and she types the address into my GPS. “Please, be careful. He’s dangerous,” she whispers as she hands it back.

I lean over and cup her soft face in my hand. “So am I. Now, when you get in the house, I want you to call Tanner and have him meet me over there.”

“Okay.” Her voice is strained, and she’s trying so hard to be brave.

“I promise. The next time you see me, I’ll have Avery with me.” She gives me a weak smile, then stands straight and turns toward the house. I watch to make sure she’s safely inside before I spin the tires and race back down the long driveway toward the Miller’s residence.

As soon as the front door closes behind me, the sound of flying rocks and spinning tires echo through the house. I never should have given him that address. He doesn’t understand what Danny is capable of, and the last thing I want is for him to get hurt because of me.

Digging my phone from my purse, I call Tanner.

“Abby, is everything all right?” he asks, concerned.

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

“No. Danny’s kidnapped Avery.” I wipe a stray tear from my cheek as I try my hardest to stay strong.

“What do you mean? Are you sure?”

“She was at preschool. The teacher let him…let him leave with her.” I pause for a moment to get my emotions under control. “I’m positive.”

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters almost to himself. “I’ll put out an APB on—”

“Ryan went to Richard’s house. He wants you to meet him there.”

“He did what?” he chokes out. An eerie silence spreads across the line.

He’s thinking the same thing I am.

Trouble.

“Fuck. I’m heading over there right now.” Then the line goes dead.

I don’t have a good feeling about this. If Danny’s at Richard’s house, they’ll have security making sure no one will get in. God, I hope they haven’t fled to Canada—or worse, taken the private jet to any country without an extradition.