My tires screech as my Tahoe comes to an abrupt stop behind Whitney’s car. She hasn’t answered her phone once in the dozen times I’ve hit redial.

My mother’s feeling from the week before last comes crashing into me. I have a bad feeling is what. I had this same feeling before my best friend took her life, Shane. It’s not a good feeling and I thought back then if I had done something then maybe Lynn would still be here.

I have a bad feeling too. I’m just praying I’m wrong. I’m praying there is a logical explanation for them being here. For Whitney not answering her phone. But then Roxanne’s words come to mind. He’s not right in the head, Shane. He’s obsessed with her. He’ll stop at nothing to get her back. NOTHING, Shane.

That was after she told me Blake approached her to help him split us up. When she admitted she liked the idea at first, I could tell that embarrassed her to have to tell me, but she did it anyway. 

But when she told me he planned to hurt Everly, I nearly lost it. And when I brought up the GPS tracking app I have on Everly’s phone and saw she wasn’t at school, I almost choked. My heart fearing every worst thing a parent can feel when they don’t know where their child is.

Thank fuck she kept Emersyn. I rushed out of the hospital so quick I couldn’t explain to her why. I trust Roxanne when she said she would never hurt a kid. She’ll take her to Gavin and he’ll take her home with him until I can figure out what’s going on—and if my other girls are safe. God, please let them be safe.

The street is empty of people. It’s late afternoon, but this block is mostly vacant except for a few cars. The buildings look new.

When I come to the glass door next to where Whitney’s car is parked next to the curb, I read the name of the business. Chills crawl up my neck. That’s the company Blake works for.

I don’t have time to think. I dial 911 on my phone as quickly as my fingers will type the digits in.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“I need a police officer to come to my location. My girlfriend and daughter are missing and—”

BOOM. I hear a loud pop from somewhere above me. A gunshot, I think. My head snaps up at the building in front of me. It came from inside there. The pressure inside mounts, building up. It’s heavy. It’s agony. They have to be okay. I won’t be able to breathe without them. I can’t do loss again.

I drop my cell, yanking on the front of the door and rushing inside. I scan all around. There’s nothing in here but dust, darkness, and sheets of clear plastic.

Movement to my right catches my attention, putting me on alert. My head snaps that way, to a set of stairs. Relief floods through me when I see Everly running down them. My feet propel toward her, meeting her just as she’s about to step off the last stair.

“Daddy.” I grab her, pulling her into my arms, lifting her off the floor.

 “Are you okay?” I set her down, pulling back to scan her from top to bottom. She nods, but there are tears coming down her cheeks, one right after another.

“Everly.” I hear the panic in Whitney’s voice. My eyes shoot up.

“Get outside now. My truck is unlocked. Get in and lock the doors.”

“But Momma.” She squeaks.

I look back down. “Go, Ev.” I pull her back to where I came inside, pushing her out the door and into the daylight. “Get in the truck.” I step backward. “Lock the doors.”

Turning, I look up again, this time seeing bodies on the third floor as I run toward the stairs, taking them as fast as I can with only two thought going through my head: that motherfucker has a gun and my woman is up there.

When I get to the third level, I jet inside the office space I saw them in. Blake is just getting to his feet and Whit is lying on her side on the floor. And he has a gun, pointing it down at her.

“You stupid, stupid bitch!” he screams. His eyes never leave hers, and I realize he hasn’t seen me yet.

I tackle him from the side, forcing him away from her. The gun goes off again. My ears can only process the ringing the blast caused. I don’t know what direction the bullet went or if it hit something or someone. If it hit Whitney . . . Fuck, no. I didn’t think. Not really. I was only trying to get him and that weapon away from her.

Crashing into Blake, he lands into glass wall, shattering it with the impact of our bodies.

“Shane.” Whitney sounds panicked, but just the sound of her voice lightens me, telling me she’s okay. I don’t dare look at her though. Taking my eyes off a madman would be stupid and dangerous to us both.

He starts moving under me, shoving, twisting.

“You have to die,” he grunts.

“Shane, get away from him. Please,” She begs. “He’s crazy. He’s lost his mind.”

“Get out of here.” I yell, pushing him back down. He kicks, bending my leg and making me lose my balance. I fall, landing on my hip. “Fuck.”

“No, fuck you.” He gets to his knees, blood dripping down his cheek.

“Whit. Leave. Go find Ev.”

I push up, off the ground the same time he does. He’s not looking at me though. My guess, he’s looking at Whitney. I see the obsession in his eyes. I’ve loved Whitney for so long at times it’s felt like an obsession. An all-consuming feeling where only she mattered. But this obsession he has isn’t like that. Not at all. He only cares about what he wants. I’ve always cared. I’ve always loved her more than I love myself. The same way I now love my girls more than my own life. I’d do anything for them.

He’d do anything for himself.

How does he not see me?

“No. You aren’t leaving, Wife,” he spits out. A small stream of blood trails from his lip and down his chin. “You’re staying right here. With me.” His arm slowly starts to rise. “You won’t be his. I won’t allow it. You are mine fore—”

I move fast, my hand reaches out, one grabbing his wrist and pushing down while the other turns his to face me. Surprise sparks his eyes, but only for a moment. I slam the back of his head into the doorjamb behind him. Anger quickly returns and he head-butts me, thrusting my head backward and blinding me.

Fuck. The pain that radiates through me is squashed and replaced with something else when Whitney screams. I can’t let him hurt her. I won’t.

Shaking it off, I see through a haze his arm lifting. Without thought, I shove him out the door, getting him away from Whitney. I push again as my forehead throbs.

Blinking, my vision has finally fully returned and I’m able to look him in the eye. I’m expecting to see hatred, but in its place, is fear. What the . . .?

When I realize what’s about to happen, I jump forward, leaping to the railing to grab him, to grab onto something to keep him from falling. But I’m not quick enough. He goes over the railing, his suit jacket sliding through my fingers. I’m not able to stop it from happening.

My stomach pushes against the hard, steel of the railing. My head turns to the side, wincing when the thud of his body hits concrete. The wind from my lungs leave my mouth in a rapid gush.

Deep down, I know there is no way he survived that fall. But the physician in me urges me to go make sure—to see if I can save him. He doesn’t deserve it, but that’s never been my call to make. My job is to save lives, not be the decider on who deserves life or not. I’m supposed to do anything within my power to give people another chance.

“Oh my . . .” Whitney steps up next to me, looking over. “Fuck. Is he . . .?”

“Go,” I whisper. “Go check on Everly. She’s supposed to be in the truck.”

She doesn’t say yes. She doesn’t tell me she heard me. But she does take off running down the stairs. Seconds later I’m doing the same, but for different reasons.

A part of me doesn’t want him to be okay. Doesn’t want him to be alive. And I curse myself on the inside for those thoughts. What does that say about the doctor I’m supposed to be?