We’re moving too slow. The plane is heading in to land and my body is alert, ready to murder, to maim, and to make sure that someone dies tonight. That someone in particular is a man I was supposed to be aiding. William Fredericks.

I’m still simmering quietly when Carrick glances up from his phone. His eyes have a way of confessing before he’s even opened his mouth.

“What?”

“The signal on her phone is still on, we just need to hope that we don’t lose it.” Shoving from the seat, I settle beside Carrick and watch as a red dot appears and pulses in the middle of fucking nowhere. “We’ll get her back,” he assures me for about the hundredth time today, but deep down, I’m more fearful of what has been done to her. I don’t think he’ll kill her, but he will break her. Or try to.

“We will. But in what state?” I ask the question that’s been weighing on my mind. Heavily. More so, it’s gripped my heart. Painfully.

He doesn’t answer me, because he can’t. There’s no way he can tell me with confidence that she’ll be okay. That all this will be swept under the rug. The wheels touch down and I’m out of my seat, at the door waiting for clearance to open it.

This monster has stolen from her before. Her innocence, her trust, and her sanity. This time, I’m scared he’ll steal her soul.

The doors slide open with a whoosh and I’m already down the steps and at the waiting car before Carrick has time to think. When he joins me, I’m in the bench seat of the town car. The driver glances back at us and nods. The GPS he has plugged in at the front of the car is beeping to the beat of my heart. It’s a whisper, but I hear it.

I hear her. I feel her. If she were dead, I’d know. My gaze is focused on the nothingness outside the window. It’s black. Just like my heart and mind. Dark thoughts float through me, images of what we’re about to discover taunt me and I can’t help the ache in my gut. As if I’ve been punched, stabbed, a blade shoved so deep inside it’s pierced my soul and every moment I’m away from her, I feel life drip from me.

Finally, as we round a bend, our driver, I don’t know his name, pulls up against a high black wall in the middle of darkness.

“We’re here. Let the team get in there and disarm everything. Then we’ll enter from the rear,” he says, his voice thick and filled with excitement at having to play soldier. His accent very much like Carrick’s is English, and I realize that there’s a lot more to Rick Anderson than meets the eye.

When we’re alone, I glance at Carrick who pulls a 9mm from a holster and hands another one to me, which he had hidden on his right side.

“You never know when you need one,” he shrugs, exiting the car before I can even mention it. Silence ensues as we wait. It’s deadly. My mind is raging. Nothing is going to help me now, only holding my girl will ease this tension and rage.

Before I have time to think, it all happens. Swiftly, the lights that we agreed would be the signal flash and Carrick and I are on our feet racing toward the gate as it slides open. The forest is dark, dank, but then as the black metal gates open, we’re met with the humongous fortress that is the Fredericks mansion.

I don’t think. My mind is blank. No, that’s a lie. It’s on one thing, and she’s inside. As soon as we reach the doors, we find it open, and the six men are inside with their guns drawn. I’ve never shot a gun, I’ve only ever been in a bar fight; this is something different altogether. There’s nothing that could prepare me for walking into a house that looks like the queen lives there.

It’s ornate, gilded, and I have the sudden urge to smash everything to pieces. I want to destroy anything and everything that belongs to this asshole.

“Basement. Basement.” One of the men hisses into his earpiece. We follow the black figures as they make their way into the bowels of the house.

It’s silent and fear grips me. She can’t be dead. She has to be alive. I can’t live without her. I can’t. These thoughts race through my mind as we head down the staircase to the cold basement, which looks like it should house corpses rather than a beautiful woman. And I hope and pray to a god I don’t believe in that I won’t find her corpse lying in that small room on the other side of the large metal door.

We’re about to break the door in when I hear it. A scream.

“Gia!” I call out not thinking. Carrick’s glare pins me and I know I fucked up. Another scream and I realize it’s not her. It’s not her voice. Something’s wrong. Who is that?

I don’t know how they get the door open, but with a loud resounding crash it moves and we’re inside in seconds. Gunshots sound and ring in my ears and I fall to the floor. Pain so profound shoots through me. My leg is oozing blood from a bullet, but that is not what hurts, it’s the woman on the floor that’s chained to a chair. I don’t know what’s happening around me, loud screaming, shouting, more gunshots, but all I see is her.

Time stops. My breathing halts. And my body freezes. She’s not moving. Blood pools around her like she’s bathing in it. I grip the floor, dragging myself toward her. Her chest doesn’t rise and fall. I reach for her neck, but there’s no pulse. There’s no breaths.

A cry is ripped from my soul. As if someone had reached into my body and tore my very life force from me and I’m lying beside her dying. Not again. I can’t lose another. I will never survive it.

“Get her into the fucking ambulance,” Carrick shouts above me. Men grab at my woman. Her body is lifeless as they unchain and lift her from the floor. Rick helps me to my feet and I stumble beside him as we make our way out toward the main section of the house.

“Where—”

“He’ll be taken care of until you’re ready,” Rick informs me, and I nod. I’ll be back for the fucker. He can be sure I’ll be coming for him. And the rest of his fucking family.

Once Carrick and I reach the car, I’m losing the feeling in my leg. But all I can think of is my girl.

“She’s dead,” I tell him but he shakes his head. “She had no pulse. No breathing. She’s fucking dead!” I’m shouting, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m angry. I’m broken. I can’t do this. And I realize, for the first time in a long time. In years. I’m crying. I’m fucking bawling my eyes out and I don’t care who sees me.

Women aren’t the only ones to hurt. To shatter. And I realize it in that moment. I’ve just lost the love of my life. Again.