Page 86 of Bozo

"Fuck!" I roar, slamming my fist into the wall. The plaster cracks under the impact, but I barely feel it. I feel utterly fucking useless. I have no idea where she is or what that fucking cunt is doing to her.

Jer puts a hand on my shoulder. "We'll find her," he says, his voice low and intense. "We won't stop until we do."

Suddenly, Pyro calls out from the living room. "Guys, you need to see this."

We rush over. Pyro is holding a small notebook he found hidden behind a loose baseboard. As he flips through it, my stomach turns.

It's filled with notes about Gráinne. Her schedule, her habits, even details about her relationship with me. This wasn't just surveillance, this was obsession. Not to mention pictures, hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of her. Some up close and others taken at a distance. She has no idea the camera is even there.

"That sick fuck," Jer growls, his face pale with anger.

Before we can discuss it further, my phone buzzes again. Another message from the unknown number.

Unknown: Tick tock. The clock is running out for your precious Gráinne.

Attached is another photo. This time, it's Gráinne awake, her eyes wide with fear. She's in some kind of dark, damp room. A basement, maybe. There's a newspaper in the frame, today's date clearly visible. Proof of life.

My stomach churns. "We need to find her. Now." I can’t fucking lose her. No way. I just can’t. She’s my fucking everything.

Jer's already on his phone, barking orders. "I want every abandoned building, every warehouse, every fucking hole in the ground searched. Now!"

Pyro's studying the photo intently. "Wait," he says suddenly. "Look at the wall behind her."

I peer closer, trying to see past the terror on Gráinne's face. And then I see it. Faded, barely visible, but unmistakable. A logo.

"That's the old textile factory," Denis says, his voice tight. "It's been abandoned for years."

"Let's go," I growl, already heading for the door.

As we race toward the old factory, I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. We're close. So fucking close. Hang on, Grá. We're coming.

We kill the engines a block away, not wanting to alert anyone inside to our presence.

"Remember," Jer says as we approach, "we need to be smart about this. We don't know how many of them are in there."

I nod, but my mind is singularly focused. Get to Gráinne. Everything else is secondary.

We move silently, weapons drawn. The lock on the side door is no match for Pyro's skills. Within seconds, we're inside.

The factory is massive, filled with shadows and echoes. Every sound seems amplified; the creak of the floor, our muted breathing. We move carefully, checking each room, each corner.

And then we hear it. A muffled cry. My heart leaps into my throat. Gráinne. Fuck, she’s alive.

We follow the sound, moving faster now. As we round a corner, we see a figure standing guard outside a door. Before he can even react, Jer has him in a chokehold. The man struggles briefly before going limp.

I'm at the door in an instant, kicking it open with all my strength. The sight that greets me makes my blood boil.

Gráinne is there, tied to a chair. Her face is tear-stained, but her eyes light up when she sees us. Mike Hammond stands behind her, a gun pressed to her head.

"One more step," he snarls, "and I'll blow her fucking brains out."

Time seems to stand still. I can see the fear in Gráinne's eyes, but also a flicker of hope. She trusts me. Trusts us to get her out of this.

"Let her go, Mike," I say, my voice low and steady, trying to buy time as I assess the situation. Mike's hand is shaking slightly, his eyes wild with desperation. He knows he's cornered. There’s no way out for him. Not anymore. He crossed the line when he took her. I’m going to enjoy killing him.

"You don't want to do this," I say, taking a small step forward. "Think about what you're doing."

Mike's grip on the gun tightens. "Stay back!" he shouts. "I'll do it, I swear!"

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