Page 117 of Reclaimed

There’s a flurry of activity as officers begin to move. A handful of cruisers pull out. I catch Lee’s eye. He nods once, then jerks his head at his truck.

“Let’s go.”

I squeeze Juniper’s hand once more in thanks before climbing into Lee’s truck. He hauls himself inside and peels out after Silas’s cruiser.

“Thanks,” I say quietly, knowing it’s inadequate.

“Not necessary.” Lee punches the gas to keep Silas in his sights. The blue and red lights flash soundlessly ahead.

“Does Mom know what’s going on?” I grip the phone in my hand, watching the only connection I currently have to the love of my life. The line remains silent.

“Yes. The rest of the girls stayed behind to rally together. And as pissed as I am at Juniper for leaving the safety of town, I’m so fucking proud of her.”

“I’ll never be able to repay her. If we find Isla, I’ll be in her debt forever.”

Lee’s fingers twist around the leather steering wheel. “We’re going to find her.”

I let the strength behind his words imbue me with hope.

Wearegoing to find her.

The phone in my hand suddenly comes to life, a rustle bursting across the line, followed by a thud.

“Isla,” I call urgently.

“What are you doing?”The man’s voice fills the quiet of Lee’s cab. Our eyes meet briefly before he returns his attention to the pavement beneath his tires and punches the gas again.

“Nothing,”Isla’s breath hitches.

“Don’t lie to me! You’re up to something.”

“I’m just moving around.”

The threatening tone deepens. “If you don’t tell me the truth right now, you won’t make it another five seconds.”

“Please,”Isla bursts into sobs, the terror in her voice sending my hair on end. I don’t have a visual to know how exactly he’s threatening her, and my mind runs wild with the possibilities.“Don’t hurt him,”she pleads.

“You fucking bitch!”

The sound of a scuffle ensues, punctuated with a shout and Isla’s tearful cry of pain. There’s a whistling sound, a crack, and the line goes dead.

32

Isla

Left of the interstate.Right on Parkway Road. Two tight turns where the road curves around a body of water. Left onto County Road 18.

In the silence that follows Henry discovering my phone, I memorize the turns in the silence. I feel like Dory inFinding Nemoas I repeat the steps over and over in my head. Dried tears stick to my cheeks. The skin feels tight. The discomfort of tacky skin has nothing on the steady throb on the left side of my face.

Losing my last connection to Aiden feels physical. Even if we weren’t speaking, for twenty-seven minutes we shared heartbeats and breaths. Maybe for the last time.

The ache in my stomach grows to the point where I can’t think of anything else. To the point that I worry about my unborn son and what the extreme stress could be doing to him.

Can terror cause a miscarriage?

Curled up on the passenger seat, I rest my head on the cold window. Slow, deep breaths keep my pulse to a manageablelevel. A shiver runs through me from the November chill and lack of heat in this old beater car.

The vehicle turns down a dark gravel road. Tall trees tower over each side, casting the nearly hidden road in shadow. Rocks pop and spit beneath the tires as Henry accelerates.

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