I honestly didn’t want to be here—not because I didn’t want to swim or win another gold medal. I still did. But every time I closed my eyes, I remembered Olly’s little arms around my neck, whispering that he loved me.
I hadn’t wanted to leave that sweet boy. I promised I’d come back—and I would, as soon as this was over. At least I knew Oliver was home with him, so that Olly would have his Daddy.
My trainer is as clueless as ever and still thinks shouting will motivate me. He tried once. I looked him dead in the eye and said, “If you yell at me one more time, I’ll walk out that door and never come back.”
I washopinghe’d yell.
A week later, I got a text from Oliver—a picture of him and Olly at a restaurant, both grinning, with large bowls of ice cream. I laughed out loud and instantly missed them even more.
I called. They answered on the first ring.
“I miss you guys,” I said. “I don’t want to compete anymore. I wish I’d never signed that contract. I’ll be there Wednesday—we get a five-day break.”
“We can’t wait to see you. We miss you too,” Oliver said.
Then Olly took the phone. “I can’t wait to see you! I have more stories Faron told me—about his grandfather. You’re gonna love them!”
“I bet I will,” I said, trying to hold back tears. “I miss you, sweetie.”
We talked for another twenty minutes before I forced myself to hang up and get ready for bed. But I didn’t sleep. I lay there wide awake, staring at the ceiling.
That’s when I heard the door open.
No. Hell no. Not again.
I sat straight up in bed, gun already in my hand, and aimed. Whoever stepped through that door was going to get dropped.
“You better stop right there or I’ll blow a hole in your head,” I shouted. “I willnotbe taken again!”
A blinding flash went off—then I shot.
I pulled the trigger and heard a body hit the floor.
I was already on my feet when something slammed into the side of my head, and the world disappeared.
I wokeup one arm tied to the leg of a bed. I was in a different room. My head pounded so hard I thought it might split open.
I cried for three seconds—only three—before I remembered who I was.
I was Jason Blake’s daughter.
And I would not let him down.
I would get out of here.
Somewhere in the room, a man’s voice said, “You’re awake. I apologize. We had to take you again. What you saw on that phone wasn’t meant for anyone but Victor.”
I didn’t lift my head. I could have. But I wanted him to think I couldn’t.
“It’s a shame you shot Tobas,” the man went on. “We had to rush out of there before anyone showed up, so I left him behind. Now I’m the only one left… and I have to kill you.”
“You people never quit,” I muttered. “If I’d seen anything worth hiding, I would’ve stayed hidden.”
“We can’t take the chance,” he said. “Once things settle down, we’ll move. I won’t kill you here—it’s too risky. But try to run, and I’ll shoot you full of drugs. Understood?”
“I couldn’t fight a fly right now,” I said weakly. “I can’t even lift my head. Can I have some water? Or better yet… a cold beer?”
He gave a short, amused laugh. “I could use a beer myself. There’s a liquor store around the corner. I’ll grab us one. Don’t try anything—I’ll be back in a few minutes.”