Page 278 of That Time I Accidentally Became A Serial Killer

“YES!”

Alex Matthews.

I scan her notes.

There’s an address. A house tagged HOLDING – New Transports.

A place they branded the girls. Drugged them. Kept them like livestock.

My hands shake so bad I nearly rip the paper.

I check the timestamp on Poppy’s voicemail—and it feels like a cleaver through my chest.

They’ve had her for hours.

I swear a part of my heart dies.

Rourke’s voice barks from behind me.

"I will shoot you if you make me run across this fucking precinct again. What the fuck is happening?"

I turn, stuffing the address in my pocket.

“They took Poppy.”

The words hang between us like a noose.

Rourke’s jaw ticks. “You know we have protocols.”

I stop at the door, facing him full-on.

“I love her. I’m doing what I have to do to get her out.”

My voice is low. Steady. Dangerous.

“If you send uniforms, be prepared to visit me in Rikers.”

I hold his stare.

"You never saw me leave. You don’t know she's missing."

A long silence.

“Well, if that’s the case, then I’ve earned a cigarette.” Rourke walks away. “And you’re not telling your Godmother.”

Bless him.

I’m out the door before he even sits.

I throw myself into my SUV, tires screeching as I rip out of the lot.

Dexter’s empty seat beside me feels like a promise.

I’m coming, Poppy.

And God help anyone who tries to stop me.

Ipark two streets away and kill the lights before the engine finishes its death rattle.

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