Page 113 of Finding Fate

Fate

Today

Every article of clothingthe idiot left hangs off me. Which makes every turn in this piece-of-shit car uncomfortable as the big granny panties ride up my crack. For the fourth time in the last five minutes, I sit up slightly to resituate the annoying cotton.

I’ve had two other stops since picking up the car and clothes. Each second, each minute, fear of what's happened to Mac eats at my already frayed nerves and logical thoughts.

Pulling up to the curb in front of my old apartment, I gaze up at the large bay window and the small flicker of light streaming through.

I really did love that apartment. Maybe because it was the first luxurious thing I'd ever given myself. And now here I am staring, waiting, wondering what I'm going to find once I walk inside.

And I will walk in. There's no waiting for Nash to come save me. Even if he did see my tracker veer off course, there's no way he'll make it in time for whatever Jace has planned.

The old metal door squeaks open and I step out into the chilled night air. Bastard didn't even leave a jacket, just this ratty tie-dye T-shirt. The first time I trip on the too-big flip-flops going up the stairs, I curse the cheap plastic excuse for footwear. The second time, I rip them from my feet and launch them at the bottom floor landing.

Better. If only I could do that to the underwear too.

The large wooden door appears ominous. What will I find on the other side? Mac could be dying or already dead or not even here at all. Shit, didn't think of that one earlier. What if Jace duplicated Mac’s number and called me?

I'm an idiot. But then again, I have to know. Because if he is in there, dying, hurting, then I have to do what I can to help.

Mind made up, I stare at the door. Do I knock or...? What's the protocol here?

Before I can contemplate it any longer, the door swings open.

"You made good time," Jace says, motioning me into my old apartment. A single cheap lamp sits on the floor in the corner, the only light on. I scour every corner I can see from this angle in search for Mac but come up empty. "Looking for your friend? Like I'd leave him out here to distract us. Don't look so disappointed, Fate. You'll see him soon enough."

My feet don't move from the other side of the door. I'm a stupid fool for believing Mac would be here.

"Don't think about screaming or calling out for help." From behind his back, he withdraws a large black gun with a long, narrow tube situated on the end of the barrel. Movies are educational; I know that’s a silencer, and I also know I'm fucked.

Using the gun, Jace motions me into the apartment. I’m still unable to move on my own, so he grips my wrists and pulls me inside, the door snicking shut behind me. Gun at my back, he guides me down the hall toward the main bedroom. That must be where he's keeping Mac.

The knob slips twice in my clammy, trembling hand. An annoyed huff brushes the back of my neck as he leans around me and pushes the door open himself. One small, hesitant step in and I immediately know.

Jace is a damn liar, and I'm a fucking idiot.

Something pricks the back of my neck, sending a burst of cold into my veins. The room sways and bends even though I'm not moving, or at least I don't think I am. When my knees go out, he doesn't bother catching me or easing my fall. Even through the numbness, the smack of my head against the hardwood shoots a bolt of pain throughout my body, but my voice doesn't respond, or my lips, when I try to scream out in pain.

Before everything goes dark, I hear Jace's muffled voice. "Once she's gone, we're home free."

It could be the drugs, but I swear another familiar voice responds.

**

MUGGY MEMORIES FILLmy mind as I come to.

What the hell happened to me? Fear catches my breath at the thought of opening my eyes to find myself back in that dilapidated shack. Think, Fate, think. One finger responds to my desperate pleas, lightly brushing against the ground. Solid, cold, smooth—concrete. Not the damp dirt floor of Africa. If I could weep, I would at the immense relief that bit of knowledge allows.

Now to figure out where I am.

The last thing I remember is Jace. My apartment. No Mac.

Even though I should be pissed at myself for falling for his ruse, knowing Mac isn't in danger makes the anger nonexistent. Instead, acceptance settles in. This is my fate. My whole family’s fate. It started with Destiny, overwhelmed Mom, and now me. This man will take out an entire family within the span of two years.

Who was I kidding thinking Nash and I ever had a chance? My whole life has been leading up to this point, and I know what I have to do. No matter what happens next, Jace can't survive the night. He can't be allowed to lure, or lie to one more victim ever again. I have the power to stop him, even if he kills me right here, right now. Nash might not have a single clue on what to do with the information I gave him, but at least he has it.

Vibrations against the floor beneath my back signal someone's coming. Two someones. Something heavy lands beside me. And groans—no, whimpers. There's comfort in the sound of a female voice instead of a man’s. Not Nash or Mac—good—but who? Forcing my eyes open, I blink several times to smooth away the blur and hurry the adjustment to the darkness.

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