“What’s going on?” I hand the chart to my secretary, who stares up at me with tears in her eyes.

I’ve been angry since I woke up this morning to find Saxon gone. Not a trace of him being there except the lingering scent of a pure dangerous man and the lingering feel between my legs. I showered. Skipped breakfast and came right to the office. Grabbed a handful of charts that needed my documentation and sat in my car at the beach to clear my head in order to do my job. I have to keep going on with my life. I became lost in my work in order to distract my fingers from calling the bastard. He used me, and the next time I see him, I’m going to let him know I will not put up with that shit.

I will not be treated poorly. Especially after the life Zoe led. All men can go straight to hell.

“Zeke called three times. He said it was an emergency. He has news about your sister. The police have called, too. We’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”

I feel my face turn as white as my lab coat. Gripping the side of the desk to steady myself, I glance over to see all four women who work in our reception area staring at me with pity in their eyes. Oh, God. I feel sick.

“Did he say what the emergency was?” My breastbone is cracking right down the middle. I’m splitting wide open.

“He didn’t. The television did. At least that would be our guess as to why he’s calling. You need to go home, Eden. We can handle the patients today.” I turn to see one of my associates, Timothy, standing behind me. Pity all over him, too. Why do people have to show pity? I hate it.

“I think someone should tell me what’s going on. Is it Wilder? Is he alright?” I’m starting to sweat. Every morbid thought is running through my mind. I can’t shake the feeling that something is about to happen. Flashes of his tiny broken body lying somewhere. He’s all alone. Panic edges up the back of my throat.

“Come into my office. Can one of you ladies fit her afternoon appointments in with one of us, please?”

“Tim, what is it?” I don’t stick around to make sure the ladies do what they’ve been asked. I follow him straight down the hall and into his office. Shutting the door behind me.

“Someone found Ricky’s car in Utah. It was abandoned. The police say they have suspicion to believe Wilder is alive. They held a press conference showing both of their photographs. Told the citizens Ricky is armed and dangerous.”

I’m numb.

“Call Zeke. I’ll give you privacy. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Fear drenches my skin. The ringing in my ears is louder than the ring on the other end of the line as I place the phone up to my ear.

“Jesus Christ, Eden. I’ve been trying to reach you for a half hour. You need to get your ass out of there and get to my house.”

“The only thing I need right now is for you to tell me what the hell is going on with my nephew.”

I’m not going to watch the news. I can’t do it.

I sit there with my head in my hands. My body is shaking uncontrollably while he tells me basically the same thing Tim did. I want to ask him if Saxon knows. If he’s taken off to inspect the situation himself. I don’t. The thought of him at the moment makes me ill.

“You need to come over here, Eden. We have plenty of room, and you need support,” Zeke demands.

“I’m not going to interrupt your new family. The answer is no. I’ll stay at the hospital. I’m safe here. Besides, he’d be stupid to try and track me down. He has to know I’m working with the cops.” The thing is, I’m not working with them. In fact, I have no idea what I’m doing anymore.

I don’t know how long I hide away in Tim’s office after convincing Zeke I’ll be fine here. Long enough to have everyone in the office come and check on me. Long enough to keep the detective in the waiting room sitting there, irritated, when I finally gather my strength to greet him and show him to my office.

“Are you sure he hasn’t tried to reach you?” Detective Blanchard asks the same question he did when he closed the door to my office. My fear turns into pure, hot rage. I lash out.

“Do you honestly think I’m that dumb? He killed my sister, for God’s sake. Has my nephew out running around to God knows where. It’s been weeks, and every time I call, you tell me you have nothing. And now you come in here to give me the news that you finally have a clue and accuse me of conspiring with him. You’re a fucking asshole.”

My voice is entirely too loud. I don’t care. My world is ending, and this man sits here with a smug look on his face. His tongue is lashing out questions of bullshit because he claims he has to cover all the bases.

The bases are fully loaded with a damn murderer, and the police force has struck out.

“I understand you're upset, Doctor. He’s desperate for money. I’m going to stress very clearly that if you do hear from him, that you call us immediately. Because if you don’t, then you're interfering with an investigation, and I promise you won’t like the outcome.” Fuck you. Go do your damn job.

“Get out. Do not contact me again unless you are calling me to come and pick up my nephew.” I stand from behind my desk. Stalk angrily to the door and open it wide for him. I’d love nothing more than to kick his ass right through it. Bastard.

He places his card on top of my desk before he turns, nods, and disappears out of my sight.

“I hate men.” I toss the card in the trash. Reach down into my bag for my phone. It had five percent battery left when I woke up this morning, so I powered it off without looking at it, threw an extra charger in my bag. It’s still dead. I power it back on and plug it in. Wait a few minutes and lay my head on my desk. I begin to try to get my shit together, then the world falls away once again. I should just fucking look up the news story and head out on my own. My soul will not be settled until Wilder is in my arms.

I need to text Saxon to see what they are doing about this. Even though I’m angry with him, I trust the man. I won’t rest until I know that Ricky is gone from this earth. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he did this to anyone else.

My skin breaks out in a cold sweat. The throbbing ache behind my eyes is painful. The thumping of my heart against my chest has me letting out a harsh sob when I see at least ten texts from an identified number. Ricky.

6:04 AM- Bitch, we need to talk

6:10 AM- You better text me back, Goddammit.

6:12 AM- I’m not fucking around. You’ll never see Wilder again if you don’t answer when I call. I don’t care if you're delivering some idiot’s baby. 1PM, Eden, or I’ll sell him to the highest bidder. It would be in his benefit if you listened to me.

The phone drops to my desk. My hands are shaking out of control reading those words. That fucking monster. I’m unable to pick up the phone and read the remainder of the texts from where it lies.

I scroll.

6:15 AM- Your money will get you your nephew back.

6:18 AM- BITCH! You have three hours.

6:21 AM- You will see him, but it’s your choice whether it’s dead or alive. You bring anyone or call the cops, and Wilder is dead. I have people on you, Eden. Don’t fuck this up.

“Where am I supposed to go, you son of a bitch?

My fingers keep scrolling. My stomach keeps churning.

The texts go on and even on as he threatens Wilder. I choke back a scream when I see his adorable face covered in dirt and what seems to be a forced smile. My heart drops to my feet. “Hang on Wilder. Aunt Eden is going to do whatever she has to do to get you.”

The final text makes my skin crawl.

6:35 AM- Get in your fancy fucking car and head to Denver. Clean out your savings account, and then you can have Wilder. When you get here, text this number. I swear on his life if you tell anyone, you will never see him again.

I tap on the picture of Wilder’s sweet face, seeing Zoe’s eyes stare right back at me. My head spins, and my gut lurches. I think about telling him I don’t have that much money. It’s tied up in my house, Wilder’s saving bonds, and the money market. From the sounds of his texts, he’s looking for millions. I think for a long time, pondering on two facts. This is just another sick and twisted mind game of his, or he really will take the money and give me Wilder. Either way, I have to think of my nephew.

I pull up the number Saxon gave me, staring at it as if it’s going to plague me. Ricky’s words about coming alone float through my mind.

I’m sure it’s a ploy. A threat to destroy me. I don’t care.

The bottom line is, I need my nephew back in my arms. His life is the most important thing right now. This crazy fucker Ricky had no problem killing my sister. I have no doubt he’d end Wilder’s life if he’s pushed.

That’s it. I have to do this. I stand up, more confident than I have been in days, grab my purse and keys then race out of the hospital. All my responsibilities fly out the window with one main goal in mind: Wilder. My gut and brain scream in protest all the way to the bank. I should call Saxon. The police. Zeke. Anyone. Sensibility is long gone. It’s Wilder sweet face that I focus on.

The attendant at the bank takes forever, biting on her lower lip and telling me it is impossible to clear out all my accounts. I ask her to give me the one with the most money in it, and hopefully, it’s enough to satisfy Ricky. The branch manager finally comes over and ends up following my demands. He’s clearly suspicious. I don’t give a shit about that either. It’s my money, and I want it. He insists on a cashier’s check, but I refuse. It’s nearly two hours before the transaction is complete. I’m shaking out of my skin when I walk out.

I clutch my locked briefcase to my chest as I race to my car. Just one more stop before I can hit the road. Flopping down in my car, I clutch my phone tight in my hand. I fight the urge to text Ricky, letting him know I’m on my way. Eventually, I fall for it and send him a quick text. No response. I send him another telling him I’m coming alone and I have the money.

Then I punch the final destination into the map app. A little over a fourteen-hour fucking drive to get there.

“Fuck,” I slam my steering wheel then speed home.

My mind keeps telling me I should call Saxon or the police, but Ricky will outsmart them. He plays by his rules and his rules only. Who knows where he’s even at now or if it will be him I’m meeting? I know Colorado is known for the Rocky Mountains, giving him endless hideouts.

This is dangerous. God, I’m so scared about this. So out of my mind. I don’t know if I’m coming or going. He could kill us both.

“This is your only choice, Eden,” I whisper to myself.

I don’t bother to open the garage door when I get home. I fly out of my car, unlock the front door, and scream. I’m panicking.

I left the money back in my car. Shit. I don’t even know if I made sure to lock it before exiting.

Get it together, Eden.

I grab a duffle bag and stuff it full of whatever I can find.

“Wilder’s favorite truck and blanket.” He’s going to want them.

With the bag thrown over my shoulder, I take long strides down the hallway and toss the final items in the bag before zipping it up. My long hair matting to the sweat dripping down my face. I have to punch down the clothes to get the fucking bag to zip shut. I punch and punch wishing it was Ricky’s face.

I freeze when something cool slides across my face. I try and scream. Nothing comes out.

Oh, God. Ricky has tricked me.

A hand wraps around my front, my head jerking back when my intruder grabs a chunk of my hair.

I kick my legs and swing my arms with all my might. No one is going to get in my way of Wilder.

The hand covered in a leather glove tightens on my face. The more I struggle, the better grip the man gets.

“Going somewhere, Doc?” I freeze.

The overwhelming amount of fear coursing through my veins makes it hard to understand the man. My heart stills, and I know how Zoe felt moments before her life was taken. Ricky wasn’t fucking around telling me he had men on me. This man is going to kill me.

A cold piece of metal nudges my throat. “Running is going to do one thing. Get you killed. Want that, Doc?”

I’m spun around in a rapid movement with my hair blurring my vision. I blink once, twice, and then a third time before I see who was growling in my ear. My hands fly up to my chest fighting to keep my heart from beating out of it.

“What the hell are you doing?” I want to slap this man.

“For being a well-known, smart doctor, you sure are a dumb bitch.”

“Saxon?” His name floats from my mouth.

But it’s not Saxon standing in front of me. It’s full-on badass biker Brick who is pissed off with all his rage targeted at me.

Well, he has another thing coming if he thinks I’m going to put up with his Goddamn shit. Or maybe it’s me who has something coming. Because this man is downright scaring me.