Page 102 of Stolen Dreams

“I got your boy. If you want him back, you’ll have to pay.”

“Whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt him.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. Hundred thousand.”

“Ask for more,” a familiar female voice says in the background.Brianna.“They have it.”

My vision tunnels at the request. Fire roars in my veins at hearing her tell him to ask for more. The world tilts beneath my feet as the truth sinks impossibly deeper.

Brianna has absolutely no love for Tucker. Not a single ounce. To her, he is a tool to feed her addiction or fix her problems.

I will fucking kill her.

“No tricks. No cops. Or he dies.” He says it with such ease. As if life means nothing. As if Tucker isn’t the first kid he has abducted and held for ransom. “I’ll be in touch with more details soon.”

The call disconnects.

“Who was it?” Abigail glances my way from the driver’s seat.

“Pull over,” I mutter.

“Was it Brianna?”

Bile inches up my throat. “Pull the fuck over!”

Tapping the brakes, she jerks the wheel right and steers us onto the shoulder. When the car slows enough, I unbuckle my seat belt, fling the door open, and vomit. My body doesn’t stop retching after I empty my stomach. Minutes pass in painful dry heaves.

When the convulsions stop, I slowly sit up and close the door. Grab a napkin from the glove compartment and wipe my mouth. Swallow past the sour taste in my mouth and focus on what matters.

“Head for the police department.”

Abigail glances over her shoulder, checks the road for traffic, then makes a U-turn. The engine revs then shifts gears as Abigail floors it. Buildings and pedestrians pass in a blur as we drive well over the speed limit through town.

Unlocking my phone, I scroll through my contacts and tap Mom’s name. She answers on the first ring.

“Did you find him?”

I wish that was the reason for my call.Soon.“No, but I did get a call. Abi and I are headed to the police station.”

“We’ll meet you there.”

I hang up before Mom says something hopeful. Moving down the list, I tapCallon Tymber Woulf Security and Investigative Services.

When the call connects, Tymber skips the pleasantries. “Update?”

“Got a call a few minutes ago. Man asking for ransom.” I pause and inhale deeply. “Brianna was with him. Told him to ask for more.”

I have never hated someone with every fiber in my body the way I do Brianna Werner. She is human trash.

“How much?”

“Hundred thousand.”

“How long was the call?”

“Not long. A minute, maybe.”

“I’ll have Levi pull up your call history. We won’t get an exact location, but we’ll know which of the towers bordering town the call connected to. It’ll narrow our search.”

---