Page 21 of The Hunter
I rummaged through the bag to see if there might be any more clues. To my surprise, I stumbled on a cell phone in theside pocket. I doubted it would give me the answers I needed. It was probably a burner, a suspicion I confirmed when I saw the only apps it held were ones that came pre-installed.
Except for one.
There was one additional app built for encrypted, untraceable communication. I opened it and navigated to the single message thread. There were no names. Just a single letter.
F: Package acquired.
P: Any problems?
F: The operation went according to plan.
P: Send proof.
I clicked on the thumbnail of the photo to enlarge it, my jaw tightening at the image of Ariana bound and tied, her body thrown carelessly onto the floor of his boat. This was definitely an abduction for hire.
P: Instructions regarding drop point will follow. For now, keep the merchandise safe.
F: Copy.
My blood boiled in my veins, and I squeezed the phone in a vice-like grip. Why did seeing this bother me so much? Hadn’t I planned on doing the same thing?
I wasn’t thinking straight. But I did know one thing.
From the moment I decided to start down this path, Ariana Kane was mine.
And no one took what was mine.
Chapter Ten
Ariana
Something hummed beneath me. A low, constant vibration that echoed in my bones. The air was cold, the scent clean and sharp. It reminded me of luxury — expensive polish and jet fuel. Like the smell of Victor’s private jet. But there was something clinical beneath it, too. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
I struggled to open my eyes, but my lashes felt glued together, like they’d been dipped in syrup. I fought to lift an arm, a leg,anything, but nothing responded. My body lay slack, disconnected from my brain. My mouth was cotton, thick and dry. My tongue felt like a foreign object pressed against the roof. I managed a sound, something close to a whimper, but the answering silence told me I was alone.
That no one was coming to help me.
I somehow managed to flex my fingers, feeling something soft. It felt like a bed. Was itmybed? It didn’t smell like mine.
A sudden jolt sent my body jerking, reminding me of turbulence. Was I in an airplane?
How did I get here? And who was I with?
Heaviness tugged at me, dragging me back down into a molasses-thick sleep before I had a chance to figure it out.
The next time I surfaced, the air had changed. No longer sterile. It was damp and alive.
Pine. Earth. Sap. The comforting scent of nature.
The steady vibration beneath me had shifted. Now it was the rumble of tires on asphalt, rhythmic and grounding. The occasional bump jolted through my seat and into my bones. My cheek was pressed to something cold. A window, perhaps.
I tried to move again. My fingers twitched against smooth, textured leather. With effort, I peeled my eyes open a sliver. Just enough to catch the blur of trees outside, dark trunks streaking past in rapid succession. A river churned to the right, frothing white as it crashed against rocks. A gray-blue sky loomed above, heavy with clouds. Snow-covered mountains stretched against the horizon. Or maybe just the shadow of them.
This wasn’t Miami.
Panic surged through me. I strained to lift my head, to orient myself, but it felt like I was swimming through wet cement. My head slumped forward, boneless, smacking softly against the glass with a muted thump.
I forced my eyes toward the driver’s seat. A silhouette behind the wheel. Still. Watchful. Familiar in a way I couldn’t place.
