Page 4 of What Lies Within

"The usual," Minion says. "None of our sparrows know a fuckin' thing. A car left his premises this morning, but nobody could say who was in it."

Spies. They're relying on spies to tell them where the asshole is. Visions of the smug fuck grinning wide as he watched me back out of the room—the acrid smell of Tom's blood, piss, and vomit burned in my nostrils—haunt my mind.

If he has Maddie, he won't sit idly and wait for anyone to realize. The bastard doesn't need a reason to start whatever torture he has planned for her. He does that kind of sick shit for fun.

I lean forward, let my hair curtain my hands while my knees block them from view, and bring my phone to life. My thumbs shake over the tiny keyboard as I pen the words. Maybe I'm foolish. Perhaps this isn't my brightest moment, but one thought continues to echo: I can be useful. I smack Send before I give the idea a second thought.

"What the fuck's goin' on here?"

I jerk my head around and find a missing third of my heart framed in the big door to the yard. Digger stands with his hands before him while Minion approaches to gently broker the news to their Vice.

But it's no matter. I watch with helpless horror as Digger tugs his phone out and reads the message that I'd sent him earlier.

We can't find Maddie.

The same message that I re-sent to a different number just now. My phone vibrates against my palm, and I stare down at the words that incite both hope and fear in equal doses into my heart.

CONNOR

I might know where she is.

2

TYKE

Harvey broke his leg when he was six. Made a godawful sound as he tumbled off the side of a trampoline that should have seen the scrap heap years before and went unnaturally still… for all of two seconds before the screams began. I remember it being the first time I'd felt helpless as a parent—as though nothing I could do would fix his hurt in that instant and that I'd failed him.

I get the same panicked feeling now, yet this time, there's no clear course of action for how to remedy the pain. And I sure as fuck can't promise my baby girl everything will be okay.

Not when I don't know where the fuck she is.

"You think this has got anything to do with that shit that went down with Volkov?" Digger asks, elbows on his knees and hands clasped before him.

I let the officers give him the run-down on what we'd done to locate Maddie so far and then dragged his ass into the office to nut this out in private.

Clubs have rules, and structures exist for a reason: an order of operation. Hierarchies. But some things are just better sorted as a family.

I don't need everyone to know the extent of my fears and anxieties. Not just yet, anyway.

"I don't know. But the fact I can entertain the idea makes me sick. Can you imagine what he'd do to her?" My breathing comes a little quicker, visions fucking painting my mind's eye red. "What the fuck can I do?"

"You're already doin' all you can until you have concrete evidence." He draws a deep breath, broad shoulders rising. "The only other likely suspect is Terry."

"I know." Arms wide along the back of the sofa, I stare at the ceiling. "But what the fuck would he want with Maddie? It's Rae he's after."

"Maybe he has her in place of Rae?" Digger offers, sharing my greatest concern. "Maybe he thought a good old-fashioned trade-off would be the key to gettin' what he wants?"

"I mean, it makes sense, Dig. But Rigs had a fuckin' point earlier." I drop my head between my hands and grip the hair at my nape. "Terry wouldn't be able to help but gloat if he had her."

"Marco say much?"

"He's on his way to give us help if we need it." Asking the mafia for a fucking favor is akin to selling my soul to the devil, but if that's what it takes…Fuck. I can't shake the feeling that this shit is my fault. What if I'd just paid closer attention? Heard her concerns better.

Stayed the fuck away from Rae.

"Our girl okay out there?" I miss the contact of Rae's delicate hand on my leg—the reassurance of her presence—more than I should.

I miss my fucking spine.

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