Page 98 of Marked

His face hardened. “If that’s true, it was Markie who took the tape. He’s dead.” Kenneth paused. “And you will be, too.”

“I already sent it to someone.”

He reared back his head. “Bullshit.”

“He’ll find you.” The words left her trembling lips. Cole was probably already wondering where she was. He might not get to her before Kenneth killed her, but he’d make sure Kenneth paid.

Kenneth cocked his head. “Who will find me?”

Sophia chewed the side of her tongue. “Cole Holmes. And when he does, he’ll kill you.” Bella’s sweet face filled her mind. Once again, she was faced with the devastating possibility that she wouldn’t watch her daughter grow. Wouldn’t be there to protect her.

Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she wouldn’t shed them.

Kenneth’s face turned bright red. She’d never witnessed her cool-tempered boss react to anything this way. “Bullshit. You’re not stupid enough to get close to a guy like that. And if you are, I’m sure he’ll be happy you’re dead—one less detective on his ass.”

A cell phone chirped. Kenneth pulled his device from his pocket and then looked at her. “I’ll be back. Then we’ll finish this.” He turned away then paused, rotating back around. “If a video surfaces, your daughter is dead.” Kenneth swiveled toward the door at the far side of the room and pressed the device to his ear. “Hello?” The sharp click of the door shutting bounced off the cement walls.

Terror expanded in Sophia’s chest. Her lungs clenched as she attempted to drag in air. Soon, she could only exhale.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Never had it occurred to her that if they killed her, Bella would still be in danger. Frigid sweat rolled down the back of her neck.

She had to get out of here.

Gazing around the industrial room, dread filled her. There wasn’t a single window.

The thick, gritty dust in the air made every breath stagnant in her lungs. Any minute someone could come back and shoot her. She scanned the floor, searching every inch. Not a damn thing lying around that she could use as a weapon or to free herself. Her gaze stopped on a partially open door across the room and on the wall adjacent to the door Kenneth had used. A pedestal sink peeked between the wood and the doorframe.

Sophia brought her fingers to the tape at her wrists. Duct tape. Judging by the thickness, it’d maybe been wrapped around twice.

Wetting her lips, she shimmied up on the pole until she was standing. Her only hope was to wear down the tape. With her fingers, she examined the surface of the metal separating her hands from her back. Not very smooth, but not super jagged either. The odd piece of metal caught her skin. Maybe if she rubbed hard enough, she’d break free.

The room spun, and her gelatinlike legs and fused-together ankles begged her to sit back down. But she couldn’t sit.

She pulled her forearms as far away from each other as the tape would allow, then scraped the material against the metal, up and down.

In seconds, sweat tickled her brow. She worked until her muscles burned and sweat dripped into her eyes and her shoulders bellowed with strain.

Every muscle in her body screamed at her to stop.

She closed her eyes and pictured Bella’s face. She hadn’t been through hell to get her daughter back just to abandon her again.

No. She wouldn’t quit until she was free.

***

Less than forty minutes after he left the house, Cole turned into the church’s parking lot. The sun was getting low in the sky. The place was deserted. A small green space backed the church.

Shifting into park, he grabbed his gun and got out. But he knew he was wasting his damn time. There wasn’t a soul around. He moved silently over the grass and paused, scanning the dense foliage beyond. Birds chirped overhead, as if calling to him to keep searching.

She’d been here. There had to be some clue as to where she’d gone. Maybe inside? He turned toward the church. There was only a single exit at the back.

Then something red caught his eye. A stain—graffiti? No. Something was splattered on the brick several feet from the church’s back exit door. He stormed closer and a slumped form came into view.

Shit.

Dread slid its icy finger between his shoulder blades. He broke into a jog, all the moisture leaving his mouth and Sophia’s name heavy on his tongue. But he couldn’t scream. Couldn’t do a fucking thing but run toward the body.

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