Page 193 of Menace in Vegas

Then I see that the front door is slightly ajar.

I still.

I always shut it, listening for the click of the lock after I close it.

I double-checked it before I got in the shower.

Maybe Gram forgot something. Maybe she came back and didn’t close it all the way and Peyton didn’t notice.

I scan the room.

Nothing seems out of place.

But the hair on the back of my neck stands up. My skin tightens.

And then I feel the warm breath on the back of my neck. A light footstep that’s too close.

Before I can turn, arms clamp around me from behind. His hold is tight, crushing my midsection. A cold blade presses against my throat.

I gasp, but the sound is too quiet for anyone to hear.

A low, calm voice drips into my ear, sharp as the blade against my skin.

“Do exactly as I say… and you’ll live.”

93

CONNOR

We’re halfway back to the bungalow when Daltyn suddenly crouches, frowning at a new set of tracks carved into the mud. “These weren’t here before,” he mutters. “Longer stride. Deeper—someone’s running.”

But I’m already gone.

A flicker of motion at the edge of my vision and a flash of a hoodie.

Then Allie’s terrified eyes lock with mine for half a second before she’s yanked backward and disappears behind a building.

“ALLIE!” I explode forward, the scream ripping from my throat like it’s been carved out. My feet barely touch the ground. My heart is a war drum. My vision tunnels to a single purpose.

Get to her!

I round the corner and slam to a stop.

Landon has her.

His arm is locked around her waist, dragging her back against him. A knife is pressed to her throat. She gasps as the blade slices a line into her skin. Blood blooms against the silver.

My hands fly up, begging him to stop. “Don’t hurt her.”

His eyes are wild. He’s profusely sweating and clearly unhinged.

“Give me Peyton,” he snarls. “You want your wife back? I want her.”

My blood runs cold. “Let her go. You don’t want to do this.”

Daltyn skids to a stop behind me. One look at Allie, and he goes rigid. His voice is a blade. “Let. Her. Go.”

The knife presses harder. Allie winces. A droplet of blood trails down her neck.

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