Page 62 of Five Fingers of Death

She shook her head against my chest, then pulled away, wiping her eyes. Eva was normally so strong and put together. I’d never seen her so run down before. Then again, the last year had been absolute shit for her.

“You have enough on your plate. The last thing you need is to worry about Isabelle.”

“I can’t walk away,” I said honestly. “I was there. I saw—” That look of fear in her eyes would be burned into my mind forever. I didn’t think I’d ever forget the way my chest tightened when I thought she was in danger. “When she gets out, I’ll be there.”

A hesitant smile parted her lips. “Thank you, Jason. I appreciate it.”

“What now? Are you sticking around?”

“No. There’s nothing more we can do. We’re not allowed to see her. We should go home. I’m sure you want to see Carli.”

“Tahlia probably put her to bed already.”

“Still…there’s no point waiting here.”

“We need a team here. After everything that’s happened, we can’t take the chance that someone?—”

FNG strode over, inserting himself in the conversation. “We’ve already worked out a rotation. She’ll be covered while she’s here.”

Everything was worked out. There was nothing more I could do. Even if it did feel wrong to leave her here, Eva was right, there was no point in staying—not when Carli needed me.

I turned to FNG. “Ready to go?”

He nodded. “I’ll grab the truck.”

“Thank you,” I nodded. “For taking care of her.”

It was probably the first time I’d ever seen FNG so quiet and I didn’t know what to make of that.

“I’d give anything for one of his stories right now,” Eva muttered.

“I second that. His serious face is a little creepy.”

She chuckled. “Don’t tell him that. We’ll be bombarded by stories for the rest of our lives. We’ll never know a moment’s peace.”

I glanced around the hospital and shivered. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing right now.”

13

ISABELLE

Tears clung to my eyelids as I looked around the cell, wondering how long I would call this home.

No. I would never call this home. Never. Someone would find me. I had to believe that. Otherwise, I should just find something sharp and slit my wrists. What other choice was there? I couldn’t give up hope.

I closed my eyes and tried to think back through the fog to remember how long it had been since I was taken, but the drugs they’d pushed through my system made everything so unclear. The last thing I could recall was being in a shop.

Was I taken outside?

Was anyone with me?

My eyes flew open as my gut sank at the idea that any of my friends might have suffered the same fate as me. Squinting through the darkness, I looked around the dank basement, searching for any signs of life.

“Kerry?” I whispered. I wasn’t even sure she was with me, but if anyone went shopping with me, it would have been her. When she didn’t respond, I sank back with both relief and disappointment. I was grateful. Truly, I was. I wouldn’t wish this kind of fear on anyone. But knowing I wasn’t alone would have been comforting.

I shuffled back to the bench in my cell, tucking my feet up under me. It wasn’t comfortable, but at least I wasn’t sitting on the cold floor. Every part of me was freezing. The numbness had set in my fingers, but not to the situation. I couldn’t figure out how this had happened. I was a smart woman. I took precautions. I never went anywhere alone if I could help it. I had mace in my purse. I had taken a self-defense course.

Yet, none of that helped. When it really mattered, none of it helped at all.

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