Page 59 of From the Ashes

“They just want you to be safe. I know you might be mad right now, but they won’t be able to focus on taking care of this if they’re worried about you. I’m sure they won’t be long.”

I force a breath out. “Get me out of this panic room right fucking now, Wyatt,” I snap.

“No can do.” He sighs. “Just stay put, and it’ll all be over soon.”

I hang up without hesitating.

When will men stop trying to make all my decisions for me?

I stare at the control panel for a few seconds before heading back toward the wall of screens.

If he’s not going to help me, I’ll help myself and prove to them I’m not a weak little girl. I was born to rule, and it’s about time I proved it.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

KOVU

The ache in the back of my head is the first thing I notice as I come to.

The next is the fact I’m in a moving vehicle, and the only reason I know that is because when we turn a corner, I roll straight into hard metal.

A van, probably.

And then it’s the low voices a few feet away from me that pique my attention.

“How long is he going to be out?”

“No fucking clue. He’s a big fucker, so probably not long.”

“Are you sure those ties are going to hold?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Do you think this is the first time I’ve done this shit?”

I don’t recognize either of their voices, but they sound like low-level thugs. That’s the kind of guy you send for a job like this. Transporting an unconscious person from point A to point B.

“Will you two shut up?” someone else snaps, the familiar voice causing bile to rise up the back of my throat as it all comes rushing back to me.

Joel.

The man who tormented me for years.

The one who tortured me right alongside my parents.

The one I always vowed to kill, but that was long gone after he found out what I did to my parents while he was away visiting some family member that was unfortunate enough to be related to him.

We spent years looking for him whenever we had the time and resources, until a few years ago, when I finally called it. I thought for sure he was dead. The amount of drugs and alcohol he consumed should make a long life impossible.

“We’re almost there,” one of the first guys says, and I force my body to relax. It’s better if they think I’m still out.

The van comes to a halt, and the door slides open almost immediately.

“He cause you any trouble?” Caleb asks. Of course, this fucker is responsible for all of this. The sooner I can put him six feet deep for real this time, the better.

“He’s been out the whole time.”

“I want him right over there for when the others arrive.”

Someone grabs me under the arms and drags me toward the edge of the van, and when my shoulders are no longer pressed to the cool metal floor of the van, I force my body to remain lax as I hit the ground.

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