The threat was real.
I heave in deep breaths to calm myself. Gilli’s in trouble. What do I do now? Call for help? Wait for the police to arrive?
No time to waste. If they found her this easily, then they must have researched her family members. Which means they know about the cabin.
A curse erupts as I run back to my car. The road to the cabin is just ahead. I take the turn way too fast, almost losing control, but manage to right the car at last.
As I near the cabin, I cut the lights off, driving carefully through the darkness.
My intuition tells me that a bold attack is absolutely the wrong move. If things are as bad inside as I fear, then I need to be stealthy. They won’t be expecting me, so surprise could be on my side.
I stop the car before I get to the cabin. Dead ahead, an unfamiliar vehicle is parked in the driveway, and a dull gleam from inside tells me the curtains are pulled tight in the living room. Something neither of the boys do.
They aren’t alone. Shit, what if I’m already too late?
Keeping my distance, I go the rest of the way on foot, crouching low and trying to stay in the shadows as much as possible in case anyone is watching.
The cabin is isolated from the nearest neighbors, but these dudes, if Gilli is right—and she has been so far—aren’t amateurs. They aren’t going to hole up in the cabin without making sure they are prepared for an ambush.
What have we gotten ourselves into?Think, Tase, think.
Thinking is fucking hard when the people I love are in trouble.
The sliding glass doors might be blocked, but the window overlooking the driveway has no curtain or blinds.
Anxiety eats at my nerves until they’re raw and aching, my fingers tense on the sill. Only my hold keeps me upright. My pulse races when I peek through the window.
Inside, there’s a ring light illuminating Gilli, and she has her shirt off. In her bra and yoga pants, with her eyes closed, she twists and winds her body in a sinuous dance, her arms above her head. A giant bruise marks the side of her face, with smaller cuts across her tawny skin. Streaks of makeup and mascara smear down from teary eyes.
The sight rips me to shreds.
A man in a ghost mask stands beside a tripod that holds a cell phone, but the screen is angled away from me. I have no doubt that Gilli is being filmed, possibly even broadcast live. It turns my stomach.
Two other burly men lurk on either side of the room. One of them holds a baseball bat and the other a switchblade, but all three of them have their entire focus centered on Gilli.
They are the cobras and she is the mesmerizing melody keeping their attention captive.
Behind the masked man, I spy Soren anchored to the legs of the kitchen island, a zip tie around his ankles and his wrists behind him. Aiden is nearby on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood. A broken bone pokes through his sweatpants.
Fuck fuck fuck.
They found us. They made a move before we were fully prepared.
Fumbling, I reach into the pocket of my coat for my cell phone. My fingers are numb but I manage to get the phone out and shield the screen to keep the glow from being seen inside.
Calling 911 will take too long to get the kind of instant help we need ASAP.
Darrell’s number is programmed into my contacts. It’s a risk to make the call, and if I try to slink off further down the lakeshore to avoid being heard, they might see the movement and come after me.
There’s no way I want them to use that baseball bat on me. The switchblade would be even worse.
I dial Darrell, waiting until the call connects to whisper as quietly but distinctly as possible, “Come to the cabin. We need help.”
“Doc? What the hell are you talking about?” The cop’s voice is way too loud. “What happened?”
Keeping the call connected, I sneak around to the door. These dudes might have guns, too, but this isn’t the time to be shy. Or to hesitate.
Once Gilli finishes her dance, things are not going to stay the way they are for long. Something terrible is about to happen, and the awareness chills me to the marrow of my bones.