Page 98 of Lucky Strike

Lucky returns a few minutes later, motioning for us to come inside. I go haltingly, anxious as to what we might find, but the front entryway seems normal. Maeve follows me in, shutting the door behind us. I lookquestioningly at Lucky, but he jerks his chin at Liam. “Maeve, do me a favor and help him brush his teeth. Go straight to his bathroom.”

“Sure,” she murmurs, taking Liam from me.

As soon as they’re out of the room, his face hardens. “Most of the upstairs is trashed, including my office. And it looks like Shelby and Bacon are gone.”

“What?” I cry, my heart sinking. “How?” They might be big babies with us, but they’re trained to attack anyone who poses a threat. They’d never go willingly with people they don’t know.

“I don’t know.” He rips his hand through his hair, his eyes wild. “I don’t know. And the alarm—it didn’t go off.”

“I’m sure I set it.” I glance at the keypad, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. “I always double check, ever since Liam snuck out.”

“I know—I got the alert when you set it,” he says, holding his phone up. “I checked the cameras, but they’re all offline. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.”

“Should we … should we call the police?” My voice shakes. “They might be able to track down the dogs.”

“Never call the cops.” He looks at me like I should know better. And he’s right; I should. “The last thing I need is those fuckers sniffing around.” He sucks in a shaky breath. “The dogs are chipped, though. I just have to hope that the right people find them.”

“Okay.” I don’t say what we’re probably both thinking, that dogs like Bacon and Shelby might not be given the benefit of the doubt if they’re seen on the street. That they might seem aggressive with strangers and punished. That, if they’re not lost, they’re stolen. And we might never see them again.

“Someone’s fucking with me, Bria.” Lucky’s voice is low, deadly. My nails dig into my palms as I tighten my fists, using the pain to keep the fear at bay. “The door’s useless, the alarm’s fucked, my dogs are gone … they want me to know they can get at me whenever they want.”

Fear washes over me in a nauseating wave. “The meeting?—”

“Had to have been part of it. They knew you’d be trick-or-treating, but they wanted to make sure I’d be out of the house, too. Far away,” he says grimly. “We can’t stay here tonight. Go get changed, pack some stuff for you and Liam. Tristan and Finn are already on the way.”

Mitch accompaniesMaeve back to her apartment while Lucky and Terry meet with Tristan and Finn in the kitchen. They secure the house they best they can, and then we leave through the back, getting into separate cars. I thought maybe we’d go back to the Cape to hide out or something, but Lucky shakes his head, slamming the trunk shut. “That’s too far away—we’re going to the condo in Seaport.”

“The condo?” I glance at Liam, who’s asleep in his car seat. “How many homes do you have?”

“Just those three,” he says, starting the car.

“Just those three,” I echo, trying feebly to make light ofsomething, to ease the tense knot in my belly. But it’s useless. Every time I think about Shelby and Bacon, I feel sick. Where are they now? Does someone have them? Were they harmed? Lucky’s got a couple of guys out, making calls and combing the streets, but it feels like a needle-in-a-haystack type of situation.

He squeezes my knee, watching in the rearview mirror as Tristan and Finn back out of the driveway. “The condo’s an investment property,” he says. “As well as a place to lay low. We’re probably being surveilled, though, so I’ll have to get rid of it when all this is over.”

A fresh wave of fear prickles over my scalp and down my spine.Someone could be watching us right now. It’s always been possible, but this is a tangible threat in real time. I look around the garage, anxious about leaving its shelter even though the house is compromised.

Tristan pulls ahead, then Finn, and we follow, Terry trailing close behind. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared in my entire life. My gaze bounces from one thing to the next—passing cars, shadowed houses, a pack of teens dressed as slasher movie killers swaggering down the sidewalk.

We come to a red light. Lucky’s face is blank, but he’s clenching the steering wheel like he’s trying to strangle it. I reach over and he takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. “I’m sorry, Bria,” he whispers, leaning his head back against the rest.

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper back. I don’t know if that’s true, but it doesn’t matter. I’m too far gone to second-guess my choices now. I did what I wanted, what I needed. And that was to stay with him.

Scoffing lightly, he rolls his head and looks at me in disbelief.

“I said what I said.” I bring our hands to my lips and kiss them.

He bites his lip. “I don’t deserve you.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t start.”

“I love you, you know that?”

“I love you, too.”

The light turns green. Tristan goes, then Finn. We’re halfway through the intersection when a bright light fills the car. I stiffen, looking to my right, but I’m blinded by the oncoming headlights. There’s an ear-splitting scream of metal on metal and shattering glass as something heavy and huge slams into us. The car rocks violently and the airbags explode, filling the car with a burnt, smoky smell. One of them deploys right beside my head, hitting me so hard that my vision blurs. I’m vaguely aware of Liam calling for his father over the squeal of tires as we spin across the road. My seat belt locks, cutting into my chest as we come to an abrupt stop.

“Liam,” gasps Lucky.

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