Page 131 of Tangled in Vows

“It’s not a problem at all. Take your time. I’m happy to be here for her.”

“You’re the best, thank you.” Evie pauses. “Oh, I forgot to mention Stormy had an accident in Olivia’s bedroom, so she’s in this guest bedroom.”

“Is Stormy with her?”

“No, I think she sensed something was wrong. I dropped her off at the neighbor’s earlier so Olivia could rest well.”

“Good idea. Animals can be very perceptive.”

“Very true,” Evie says. “Well, I better get going. I’ll be back soon.”

Retreating footsteps slowly vanish, followed by the faint sound of the front door closing.

I inhale deeply and let the breath flow through my lips. My heart is pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs, but I continue to lie here with my eyes closed. The urge to wipe my sweaty palms on the blanket is almost impossible to ignore, but I remain still.

My lids are tired from all the restless sleep in the last few weeks and the nightmares and worries even Holden couldn’t keep away.

Holden.

Please let everything be okay.

The door creaks briefly, and I imagine Heather checking to see if I’m awake. But before I can open my eyes, her footsteps retreat.

Only to return just as quickly.

The door creaks again, and I blink my eyes open, stretching my tired limbs.

Heather comes into focus at the foot of the bed, a sad smile on her face. “Hey, how are you?”

I ignore her question and sniffle. “Do you know where Holden is? Have you heard anything from him at all?”

My voice quivers. My lips tremble. The same way they do every time I imagine something terrible happened to Holden and that I’ll lose him for good this time.

The thought is paralyzing and gut-wrenching.

Heather swallows and comes closer. And then she nods.

No, no, no.

I jolt up to a sitting position. “You have? Where is he? He didn’t come home, and I . . . I got so worried. I can’t lose him, Heather.”

Tears spring to my eyes, and nausea rolls through my stomach.

This is so much worse than anything I’ve ever anticipated.

“I understand that more than I could ever tell you.” She stops several feet away and hands me her phone. “Someone sent me this video. I’ll . . . I’ll give you a moment.”

She walks away, but I keep my eyes glued to the screen where the paused video taunts me with the large circular play button in the middle.

You’ve got this. You can do this. Just press play.

I exhale loudly, trying to gather the courage I need. My hand shakes uncontrollably, but I finally push the button.

In the video, Holden is on an old, abandoned warehouse floor. He writhes around, facing the camera. There’s blood on his face, and one of his eyes is swollen. “Please, let me go. I didn’t do anything to you. I don’t even know you.”

My breaths come in shallow, ragged gasps, each catching in my throat at the pleading tone in his voice.

“This isn’t personal. It’s just a job,” a male voice behind the camera says, right before a gun enters the frame.

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