Page 14 of Savage Rule

The question is, what stopped him? Because I’m certain leaving me alive wasn’t a mistake. People like us make sure our targets are deader than dead when we walk away. That means something interrupted him. But what?

Another cough has me searching for a bottle of water in the mini fridge. I take a painful drink as I pull my cell out and search for the number to Maisie’s burner phone. It’ll be the last time I’ll risk using it.

Me: Did you tell anyone where I am?

It’s the fucking middle of the night, so I don’t expect an instant reply. But it comes anyway in the form of a call.

“What’s happened?” she asks in a groggy whisper.

“Did you tell anyone where I am?”

“Of course not. Why? Wait, what’s wrong with your voice?”

“I had a visitor.” I swallow as I gently touch my neck. “Tried to kill me.”

“Who?”

I don’t reply to her question. Instead, I ask again, “Are you sure it didn’t slip out at any time where I am?”

“Scar, I don’t talk to anyone about you. Not even to my sister. Trust me, I haven’t said a word.”

“What about your phone? Have you had it with you the entire time like I told you?” The line goes silent. “Maisie?”

“I lost it for a few days,” she confesses. “But I found it under my bed and it was fine.”

It’s as if a bucket of ice water has been poured over my head. Even my burning throat gets a good dose of cold. If her phone was missing for days, it was probably not under her bed. It was most likely in the hands of Arran Maxton. Which in turn would mean…

“Oh my God. They know.”

“Who?”

“The alliance. They know where I am.” I take a step back as my gaze flies to the window. Could they be watching me even now?

Maisie remains quiet for a bit. When she speaks again, her voice is small and full of regret. “Did I do something wrong?”

I cup my hand over my mouth to keep from yelling at her. To keep from screaming that yes, she did something very wrong and it could well cost me my life.

After a breath, I say, “You were supposed to dispose of the phone if anything like this ever happened.”

“Then I wouldn’t be able to talk to you.”

My jaw works so hard I swear a tooth chips, but I manage to refrain from saying something that will push away one of the few people that mean something to me.

“Scar,” she says. “I screwed up.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, kid.” I drop my head and stare at my feet. “We knew this was risky. That’s why I gave you a burner phone. But I’m afraid it may have been compromised.” Fuck, Luca Sinacore and his men could possibly be listening to her conversation right now.

“What do we do?” There’s a hint of desperation in her voice, probably because she knows exactly what I’ll say.

“Smash your phone.”

“What? No!” she whisper-cries. “We won’t be able to talk.”

“We will. I’ll find a way, just like I did before.”

There’s silence and the sound of something like a sniffle. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

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