Page 104 of Mine

“No. And Pri’s gone too.”

It’s as if the world suddenly stops spinning and a little echo of a voice materializes in my head.

“Pri hates me, Astor.”

“Pri wants me gone.”

“She makes me feel uneasy.”

“Pri said you gave her Valerie’s clothes for me to wear ...”

In a dizzying revelation, everything comes together at once.

Prishna took Sabine. She put Valerie’s things in Sabine’s room, she’s been watching Sabine from the woods, she cut Sabine’s hair—because she’s one of the few people who know that Chloe’s was cut in the same way.

Prishna—one of my most trusted associates.

It’s too much to comprehend at the moment, the why and how of it. Only one thing matters, and that’s to get Sabine back.

“She’s got her,” I croak out. “Pri’s got Sabine.”

“I never liked that woman, boss. Never.”

I pull my cell phone from my pocket and call Pri’s number.

It goes to voice mail.

Again. Same result.

I feel like I’m going to throw up.

I try one more time, praying she answers and tells me something innocent, like Sabine asked her to take her somewhere. But I know, in my gut, that’s not true.

“Fuck!”

A rush of rage blows though my system.

“Where are you going?” Cillian barks as I push past him.

“To find Sabine.”

The garage smells like fresh exhaust. Wherever Prishna is taking Sabine in my car, she’s only just left. The only other vehicle, the Tahoe, is sitting on four flat wheels.

I sprint across the garage, rip off the vinyl cover, and stare down at the blacked-out Harley I haven’t ridden in years.

After Valerie and I moved to the lake house, she enjoyed taking hours-long drives through the mountains on the bike. The doctor had advised us to do it. Said fresh air and sunshine would help her depression. I haven’t had it serviced since. Honestly, I hate the thing.

Cillian frowns, striding across the garage. “It’s raining, boss.”

“Do you have another suggestion?”

“Yeah, give me ten minutes to switch out these tires for spares.”

“We don’t have ten minutes. The rain is going to wash away the tire tracks from the car—maybe already has. I’ll lose her if I don’t have fresh tracks to follow.”

Cillian jabs his fingers through his hair, clearly disliking this idea.

I focus on the bike. I know, at the very least, I should check the battery and fluid levels, but I don’t have time. I figure I’ll ride it as far as it takes me, then follow them on foot if I must. That is, if the thing even starts in the first place.

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