Page 12 of Oh, Hell No

“I’m out four million dollars,” was his response as he continued to walk.

My stomach growled, making this all very real. This wasn’t a dream. I’d never been this hungry in a dream. Tears stung my eyes, and I fought them back again.

Perry would track me. He’d call me. When he got Oz on the phone, he would fix this.

But what if he couldn’t? What if he didn’t have their four million dollars? What if he’d messed up and he really ran offwithout a trace?

Fear began to spread through me slowly. I’d not truly felt in danger before, thinking it was a mistake. That Perry would come get me. He’d call the cops. Something. But now…now, I wasn’t so sure he could come get me. Even though he was brilliant, he was a small, petite man. He frightened easily. I’d always been the one to stand up for him, defend him. He’d never had to do that for me or anyone. Did he even know how?

The metal bars clicked closed.

I listened to the key turn the lock.

The light from his flashlight faded away, then disappeared.

What if Perry didn’t come back? What happened if they didn’t get their money back? Would I starve to death? Or would they do worse things to me? Perry wasn’t the protector. I was!

I sank down onto the chair as a single tear rolled down my face.

Perhaps I would go mad down here, all alone, before I starved to death. I wouldn’t care that I was dying if that happened because I would have lost my sanity. The darkness and solitude would eventually become too much. Or I could dehydrate.

I had rarely thought about my death. But when I had, this was not in the list of things I’d thought might kill me.

Six

Oz

July 9, 2025

I wasn’t sure if the plan was to kill the bastard or not when we found him, but if they didn’t want him dead, they were gonna have to hide him from me. Standing in the kitchen, I watched the damn clock as it passed the forty-eight-hour point since I’d arrived here with Winslet.

Where was the motherfucker? His sister needed to eat. She needed more water. She hadn’t eaten in so damn long that she wasn’t even shitting. I’d have smelled it if she had.

The sandwich I made myself with items from the well-stocked kitchen tasted like sandpaper. Eating while I had a woman starving in the basement was apparently an issue for me. Until now, I hadn’t realized how fucking weak I was when it came to torturing females. I’d never had to do it before. I hated it.

My phone rang, and I jerked it up.

“Yeah?” I said into the phone.

“We got a hit. Someone tracked her phone. It was from a burner though. I traced it to Atlanta. Blaise has already sent out King, Thatcher, and Storm to the location, although I doubt he’s still there. But with their proximity, they might find something that points to where Perry went next,” Wilder said.

King Salazar, Thatcher Shephard, and Storm Kingston were all family from the Georgia branch. Thatcher was known to be insane as fuck while King was the levelheaded leader. Storm was a human lie detector. The three of them were a force. If we were lucky, they’d be faster than he was.

“Thanks for the update. I’ll keep a watch out for someone here. They’ve got cameras all over this property,” I told him.

“If he knows who he cleaned his fake money through, then he won’t be showing up like the calvary. Blaise is talking to the Feds now to let them know they might need to branch out and make sure all local law enforcement is made aware to ignore any leads about Winslet Gerard’s location, and if Perry actually walks into a building to file the missing person report, to lock him up.”

This all needed to move faster. It was going too slow.

“Good,” I replied. Although it wasn’t good enough.

“Linc wants you to call him after we get off the phone,” Wilder informed me.

I didn’t want to call Linc. I already feared this was about my forcing information from Winslet.

“All right,” I replied.

The line went silent, and I sighed before pressing Linc’s number.

---