Page 81 of Property of Fox

I grip my phone tightly, biting hard on my lip as I try to think through the haze of panic threatening to engulf me like smoke. The laughter from Hallie and Keira feels like a lifetimeaway now, a world that doesn’t belong with the grotesque reality unraveling before me.

“Tell me where,” I whisper finally. “Tell me where I need to go.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Tank sneers. “Meet me at the old factory by the riverbank. You have two hours. No tricks, or Fox won’t be coming home.” The line goes dead.

I shove my phone into my pocket, spotting a set of keys on Fox’s side of the nightstand. I grab them, and rush down the hallway. Hallie and Keira sit comfortably, oblivious to the storm brewing just beyond them.

“I’m leaving,” I state, my voice shaky but firm.

“Leaving? Why?” Keira replies, her eyebrows raising in concern.

“There’s something I need to take care of.” My gaze flickers toward Hallie, who now looks at me with an intensity that cuts through the haze of panic swirling in my mind.

“Brea,” Hallie starts slowly, “is everything okay?”

“Yeah, peachy,” I lie, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Just…something came up.”

Keira is on her feet now, crossing her arms. “You’re not just going to disappear like this. What’s going on?”

“Trust me,” I say, trying to maintain control over my quaking voice. “It’s nothing for you guys to worry about.”

“That’s not true!” Keira insists, stepping closer. “You don’t just leave without saying?—”

“I said I’m fine!” I snap back more forcefully than intended. Their faces twist into expressions of confusion and concern, but I can’t afford to linger any longer. It’s at least an hour and half to Bloomington. If I showed up even a second late, Tank will kill Fox. I rush past them, the door swinging shut behind me as I race towards the parking lot.

My heart pounds in time with my steps as I sprint to Fox’s rental truck, fumbling with the keys while trying to keep my breath steady. The engine roars to life beneath me, cutting through the sterile silence of the parking lot. I peel out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the pavement as I speed toward the riverbank. As I drive, every inch of me screams that I’m making a mistake. Every light turns green, every turn is clear, and yet it feels as if fate itself is urging me to reconsider.

But I can’t stop now. Fox needs me.

My cell phone rings and rings. Over and over again. Keira’s name flashing on the screen each time. I ignore it, pushing the phone out of my mind, only thinking about Fox, and that image burned into my brain. I grip the steering wheel harder, knuckles white against the dark leather, as the mix of adrenaline and dread surges through me. The streets blur by in a cacophony of colors but all I can see is his face hanging low like a marionette with its strings cut.

The old factory looms up ahead, a decaying relic from years past. I park a few yards away, scrutinizing every shadow cast by the crumbling walls. I snatch a deep breath, fighting to steady my heart as I step out of the truck. My headache flares from the anxiety coursing through me—one-part fear for Fox and another part frustration at myself for not being able to protect him from this.

Moving cautiously toward the factory entrance, my phone rings again. Fox’s name

I hesitate, then swipe to answer. “Hello?” My voice trembles, adrenaline making my heart race even faster.

“Brea,” comes Tank’s oily voice, slick and dripping with menace. “I see you’ve arrived. Good girl. Now, let’s make this interesting, shall we?”

“What do you want from me?” I demand, trying to mask the terror that claws at my throat like a beast wanting to escape.

“I told you already,” he taunts. “A trade.”

“Where is he?” I reply, my hand subconsciously reaching for the pepper spray I tucked into my pocket.

“Inside. But if you want to see him in one piece, you need to hurry. I wouldn’t keep him waiting.” The line disconnects abruptly, leaving me staring at the old factory entrance now looming before me like a portal to hell. My instincts scream at me to run, to call Keira for help, but I know I can’t. Each moment spent here could mean another bruise or worse for Fox.

I push forward slowly, each step echoing ominously through the desolate surroundings. The stench of rust and decay hits me like a brick wall as I enter the factory, dust swirling in the sparse light filtering through broken windows like ghostly fingers beckoning me deeper inside.

“Fox!” I call out, my voice nearly swallowed by the stillness of the place. Silence answers back, dark and foreboding.

“Fox!” I try again, louder this time, my heart racing in rhythm with the growing dread enveloping me.

A rustling sound breaks the silence, and I whip around, every nerve ending electrified. “Show yourself!” I demand, trying to sound tougher than I feel. The air weighs heavy with tension, and each breath feels like a challenge.

A faint noise filters from deeper within the factory—a low, muffled groan that makes my blood run cold. “Fox!” Panic surges through me. I push further into the darkness, driven by fear and the desperate need to find him.

“Brea…” His voice is broken and weak, a mere whisper in the air. My heart swells at the sound of his name escaping his lips, but it’s tinged with pain.

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