The Mullica Hill Inn just over the New Jersey border is a sobering reminder that this new life—on the run and on the road—is not always destined to be comfortable. I insisted we stay here since the next closest hotel to the pin Crow sent Tristan was another twenty miles down the highway, and I’m in a panic about any unnecessary distance between us right now.

The parking lot is largely empty. The staff are wholly uninterested in who we are past the sixty-one dollars plus tax we owe them for the room. Once inside, the salmon walls and garish magenta and navy-blue comforters on the two double beds welcome us. A thick red drape hangs over the window, giving the room privacy. Tristan hasn’t followed me in, though. He hesitates in the doorway, his lips thin. His posture is stiff, as if he’s coiled tight and ready to strike at whatever dangers are ahead.

“Is there anything I can do? I feel useless here,” I say.

“Why don’t you map the rest of the trip? Figure out some good places to stop.”

“Really?” I slant my head because I know he’s placating me. The trip from New Orleans was anything but leisurely, and I’m certain getting to his next assignment will be no less urgent.

He smirks a little. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Watch a movie or something. For what we paid for the room, I think we can afford it.”

As if a movie could take my mind off whatever is going to go down tonight. I step toward him and curl my fingers into his shirt, my anxiety ratcheting up as the seconds slip by. I think back to Mateus’s house in Petrópolis and how Tristan insisted on staying back to face off with a Hummer full of mercenaries. He was up against Crow then too. Tristan found his way back to me all the same. I lean my forehead against his chest. Focus on his even breath. The strength of his arms folding around me. Faith that feels easier to reach for when life gets this desperate.

“Every minute you’re gone, I’ll think the worst,” I whisper. “I’m going to be a mess. I can’t help it.”

“You don’t ever need to worry about me. This is what I do, remember?”

I look up at him, hoping to find some magic in his eyes that will make me believe it. “This may be what you do, but the game has changed and you know it.”

He’s quiet. So quiet that I know I’m right. Our enemies have multiplied. Tables have turned. Alliances have formed and broken.

He touches my cheek. “It has changed, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

I exhale the breath I’ve been holding, willing myself to believe it. He’ll be okay. He’ll come back.

Still, I can’t let go. My fingers won’t unclench. My feet won’t take me a few steps away to signal that he’s okay to leave. Because every other second is the devastating realization that he might not come back. That someone will be more ready than he is and take his life.

“Isabel, I have to do this.” His voice is determined but laced with understanding.

I shake my head, unready.

He cups my cheeks and tilts my face up. His gaze is so intent I’m convinced he can see past my skin, right down to my aching heart.

“Isabel. Listen to me. I love you, and I’m coming back to you.”

My breath rushes out. My heart surges in my chest. I’m ready to say it back to him a thousand times, but he slants his mouth over mine before I can. He silences the reciprocation and an ounce of my worry with a kiss that means even more than the echo of his words.

And then he’s pulling away. Leaving me. The thud of his boots fades down the concrete path to the car. The engine hums to life before he drives away. The red glow of his tail lights trails toward the highway on-ramp until he’s completely out of sight and I’m alone.

I don’t know how long I stand there until the sound of car doors slamming jars me. Two young men get out of a two-door sedan with faded red paint and head toward the front desk. I duck back into the room and shut the door soundlessly.

I let go of a heavy sigh. I’m wary to sit anywhere but decide the vinyl leather chairs around the tiny table in the corner are likely safe. I send up a silent prayer that Tristan’s business is swift so we don’t need to spend the night here.

I think about pulling up Tristan’s location on my phone but decide to wait until he gets there, and even then, I’m not sure I should.

I drop my speed as I pass the sign for Fawn Hollow Farms and the few short buildings behind it. Glancing down at the GPS on my phone, I cut my headlights and pull off onto a dirt road a few yards ahead that will take me just a little closer. I can see some lights in the distance, then the faintest outline of a barn-shaped building against the darkened sky. That has to be where Crow’s keeping her.

I park on the side and kill the engine. Roll down the windows. Listen. There’s laughter coming from the barn. The lazy whine of a windmill rolling through the light breeze. Nothing from the house or the farm buildings I’d passed. The road is quiet too.

My phone buzzes, and a text from Isabel lights up the darkness.

I know she’s a wreck already. Very likely pacing a hole in the carpet of that roach motel room. That godawful place will probably be singed into my memory for all eternity now, since ten minutes ago, out of nowhere, I decided to tell her I loved her on one of its fine thresholds.

Something I didn’t think I’d ever do. Something that’s going to make it a lot harder to let her go if I ever need to. Because now I can’t deny it, and nothing but death can make me forget the look on her face when I said it. Pure emotion. A crashing wave of joy as if she’d been waiting on a precipice, praying and hoping to hear only those words for the past six years. Perhaps that’s exactly what it was.

A woman’s shriek cuts through the night. Jay.

I get out of the car, shut the door quietly, and make my way through the field. Gun in hand, I approach. A black SUV is parked along the building, but no one seems to be on the lookout. They probably figure it’s too remote to need to.

A man’s voice inside floats through the air. “You used to be such a pretty girl. Now look at ya.” Metal on metal. A muffled squeal. “How about we cut the rest of these clothes off and make some designs. How about that? Should we do that, or you wanna talk and I can put the knife away?”

I’ve never been into torture. I’ve had to get creative in the past. Sometimes taking someone out wasn’t as straightforward as putting a bullet in their brain, but I’ve always tried to make it quick. I may be a killer, but I’ve got limits. I don’t get off on this kind of shit.

I nudge the barn door open with my foot. The huge structure is bathed in a dull golden glow coming off a few lights hung from the rafters. Bales of hay and rusty tools line the walls.

I can only make out Jay’s legs and bare feet on the dirt floor several feet away, because the round silhouette of the man speaking to her completely blocks the view.

“Hey!”

In my periphery there are two other men about my age standing several feet away. I keep my gun low and obscured behind my leg.

“I’m Red. Where’s Crow?”

“He’s good, guys. Crow said he was coming,” the big guy says, turning away from Jay and coming my way. He walks with swagger, mostly due to his size, I suppose, a long hay knife dangling from one hand and a shorter, undoubtedly sharper hunting knife in the other. “You wanna talk to her?” He smirks and gestures over his shoulder with the shorter knife, finally out of the way enough that I can see her.

I swallow over the disgust spidering through me like a disease and mask any signs of it in the calm expression I return. I even manage to match his shitty smile with one of my own, like we’re definitely on the same page. “That’s the plan,” I say.

“Good luck, brother. She ain’t talking to us, and as far as I can tell, there ain’t much left to do but be done with her.”

“Give me ten minutes. Do you mind?”

“Nah. Come on, guys. Let’s give the man some space to work.”

He waves the others out of the barn. Then we’re alone save their mindless chatter that gets farther away with every passing second. I walk toward Jay, my jaw so tight I feel like I might crack a molar.

I stop in front of her, drenched in self-loathing. The only thing that possibly can make it worse is the fact that I can’t let on to any of it. If I’m going to save her… If she’s going to feel mercy ever again…she has to believe that I truly don’t give a shit that her face is so bloody and bruised that I might not recognize her if I hadn’t seen her so recently.

“I’m sorry,” she says over a sob.

“Don’t cry. You’re swollen enough. It’ll make everything worse.”

She bobs her head a little. “You’re right.”

“How’d they find you?”

“State trooper pulled me over on the way to the diner. Said the rental was reported stolen. He cuffed me and brought me here. Probably on Crow’s family’s payroll.”

“You didn’t have protection?”

“They were staked out near the diner, waiting.”

“That was a mistake,” I say.

She nods again. “Lots of mistakes,” she mutters.

Mistakes that I wouldn’t have made if the tables were turned and the people who came for me had a chance to get what they wanted. The irony isn’t lost on me that I could be the one bound and bloody if things had gone differently.

“Why won’t you talk to Crow?”

“Because he’s going to kill me as soon as I give him what he wants. It would almost be worth it now. I can’t…” She swallows and winces like she’s fighting the tears again. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, Tristan. Then please just be done with it. I can’t give them the satisfaction. I’d rather be dead.”

I lower to my haunches and study her. Her ripped clothes. The telltale glaze of blood and come smeared along her thigh that’s obvious now. Rage lights up like a firestorm in my veins. Where the fuck is Crow? Because he will surely be answering for this disaster of an interrogation as soon as I see him again.

“They raped you?”

She doesn’t answer. Averts her eyes, her chin trembling.

“Which one?”

“The one with the knives. After Crow left, he…he—”

“Don’t. You don’t have to say anything else.”

My thoughts start spinning wildly now. The layout. The plan. Two paths and the sudden recognition that I could go down one more easily than the other. End this poor woman’s torture and the torture she’s inflicted on me over the past three years. Or take another path. One that feels wrong and right at the same time.

“What do you know, Jay?”

She lifts her head, her bloodshot eyes still a piercing blue against the rainbow of abused flesh. A single tear travels down her cheek and drops onto her dirtied pencil skirt.

“I know everything.”

The hum of an engine grows louder and closer. In my bones, I know it’s Crow. The fork in the road is minutes away. Seconds away…

“This is what we’re going to do, Jay.”

She blinks her eyes slowly.

“I need you to listen very carefully. And do exactly what I tell you to do.”

“I will,” she whispers. “Just don’t let them—”

“No. That shit is over. Come with me.”

I coax her upright just as Crow’s voice bellows from outside. The door swings open, and his round comrade saunters in.

“Hey, boss is back.” He lifts his eyebrows at Jay’s upright figure. “What’s up? You gonna give her a ride? She’s not half bad.”

I force a laugh and give her arm a firm squeeze before letting her go. She stiffens, sways a little with her hands bound behind her, but manages to hold herself upright as I walk toward the man.

“I just had a quick question.”

I meet him in the middle of the barn, and now I’m smiling for real. As soon as I’m close enough, I swing and stab my knuckles into his larynx. The damage is nearly soundless and clogs his next breath. Grabbing the collar of his cheap polo shirt, I drag him to the other side of the barn and loop a hanging length of chain around his useless neck, tethering him there.

His eyes are wide with horror, his thick arms flailing, but all he can do is clamor at the chains and gasp for the air he’s not getting.

“Do you know why this is happening to you?”

He shakes his head, with more gasps and soundless words I don’t care about.

“You’re a disgusting sack of shit, that’s why. Just in case your buddies get you out of this jam, I’m going to teach you a quick lesson.”

Sadly he’s without his knife, but I see something better hanging on the wall.

“Perfect,” I say with lightness that probably has him shitting his pants.

After unhooking it, I take a moment to appreciate the sickle’s antique wooden handle. I run my finger along the long curved edge, grateful that it’s not too dull for my intentions.

I lift my stare to his panicked one. He’s fervently shaking his head. I smile. This shouldn’t be so satisfying. I’m not into torture. I am into revenge, though, and what he’s done to Jay makes me sick. And when I think about it, all the rage it inspires moves me. Swiftly and directly, I hook the blade into the flesh between his thighs. He makes a choked sound, and his eyes and mouth go perfectly round.

“Don’t stick your dick in a woman without asking permission.”

“Red, what the fuck!”

I turn to see Crow hovering near the barn door. The other men flank him and draw their guns. I keep walking toward them, undeterred.

I point to Crow. “You and I need to talk. Outside. Now. Call off the dogs.”

He’s huffing, his face red with irritation. “That’s my cousin.”

“Sorry,” I say flatly. “He’s going to need a tracheotomy and probably some therapy. Why don’t you guys go help him out.”

Crow hesitates a moment longer. We both stare at his cousin, whose trousers are saturated with deep crimson. Finally Crow nods to the guys, who run over to the man and start unwrapping the chain around his neck.

I cuff my hand around Jay’s arm and face him. “The only thing you managed to get right was snatching her without anyone in the Company following you. The rest of this is a nightmare. Now I’m going to fix it.”

His face falls as understanding dawns. “Wait. You’re not taking her. No fucking way, Red. I brought her in.”

“Yes, I am taking her,” I reply calmly. “And you’re going to let me. Because she’s going to tell you what you need to know right now.”

Crow blinks as if he’s just figured out that he’s about to get what he wants after hours of pointless torture.

I lift my chin toward the door. “Let’s walk.”

We walk a ways into the field until we’re almost back to my car. Crow finally halts and turns to me.

“We going to talk or what?”

“What do you want to know? Do you have a pen or something to write this down?”

Jay’s muscles go lax in my grip, the relief rippling off her in invisible waves.

He withdraws a receipt out of his back pocket, and I fish out a pen from my jacket when he can’t find one.

“Hurry,” I say. “Your cousin needs an ambulance, and I don’t trust those idiots not to call one.”

“All right. Wait a sec. Shit.” He palms his forehead. “Starla Velasquez.”

A few seconds go by, and for a moment I worry Jay won’t do it. She wouldn’t hold out… Not after all this.

“Her husband, Angel Velasquez,” she begins, her voice weak. “He runs a multimillion-dollar gun trade operation from Miami to Mexico. She was threatening to expose him if he didn’t give her a divorce and a huge settlement.”

Crow scribbles the details down in messy scrawl. “Got it. What about Bill Wheeler? That insurance guy from Indiana.”

“The order came straight from the top of his company. He had a twenty-year track record of manipulating claims to screw his clients and move himself up the ladder. Started drinking and talking about it at conferences. A journalist overheard him at the bar and did some digging. Then his company got wind of it.”

Crow smiles broadly. “Don’t tell me that was the chick from Chicago I took out right after.”

“Justine Collins. You got to her right after she got the go-ahead from her editor to start writing the piece.”

“Love it. How about Adriane Avitia?”

She takes a deep breath like she’s bracing herself. “There’s a group…like a life coaching, motivational group. They recruit a lot of people from New York and LA. Adriane had been with them for a while. She inherited a lot of money, and they convinced her to bequeath it to the group in her will. They hired us to speed up the distribution, I guess.”

He frowns. “Who’s they?”

“It’s called the Masters Fellowship. Sam Burgess is the ringleader.”

“Interesting. Anita Eschweiler. Revenge hit? She was hot.”

Jay shakes her head. “A warning shot. Her uncle was poised to beat the sitting Chancellor in Germany’s last federal election. He wouldn’t back down. Wouldn’t take bribes.”

Crow makes a sound and scribbles more onto his receipt.

“Is that enough?” I say.

“I guess it’s got to be. We don’t have a lot of time, do we? Too bad we wasted so much of it.” The look he shoots Jay is pure disdain. Then he shifts it to me. “So now what? You going to add her to your collection of people who should be dead?”

I groan inwardly because I just wish he’d disappear. I can’t remember a time I’ve disliked him more. “I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know.”

Jay starts to shake.

Crow seems to notice and huffs out a weak laugh. “Let me know how it goes.”