Page 190 of Filthy Savage

He shoots off the address. Some house in Boston.

“Call the pilot,” I tell him. “We’re going now.”

I start for the door, my brothers behind me. Adrenaline rushes into my veins. If something happens to my girls, the entire world will pay.

As soon as we’re each in our cars, driving to the air strip at one hundred miles an hour, I call Emily.

She answers immediately. “Uh, Fionn, is…is everything okay? Is Amara with you?”

The nervous tempo of her tone, the way she asks about my wife, I know instantly she knows something.

“Where the hell is she, and don’t you dare lie to me!”

Swerving past a vehicle on my left, I register her low cries.

“Emily, she could be dying! Fia’s missing too. What happened?!” I try to control my rage, but it’s impossible.

She should’ve come to me.

“Oh God,” she sobs. “She was so scared. She told me not to say anything.”

Fisting the wheel tighter, I grow damn impatient. “Tell me.”

“We went into the bathroom,” she sniffles. “And some woman—she wasn’t paying attention to who—dropped an envelope. Inside was a photo of Fia holding a teddy on a chair. They gave her an address.”

She tells it to me.

God damn it!

That’s where the tracker said Amara was.

Blood pumps louder in my head. “Anything else?”

“No,” she whimpers. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve gotta go.” I hang up the phone, racing faster.

Her mother and anyone else involved are going to pay.

Please, baby. I can’t lose you. Can’t lose either one of you.

AMARA

There’s a buzzing in my head, a pummeling heaviness I can’t shake.

I don’t know where I am.

My lashes flutter open, but only darkness surrounds me.

Panic hits all at once, and when I try to move, I realize I can’t. My hands, they’re…they’re tied behind my back.

“Mm!” I try to yell for help, but all that comes out is a groan.

My mind starts replaying whatever I can remember before now.

The house. I went into the house.

Why? Why did I…

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