Page 115 of Theirs to Hunt
I stepped back as they slid her onto the board, every part of me burning with helplessness.
I ran a hand through my hair, chest heaving.
That is when I realized the ringing.
It was not in my ears.
It was my phone.
But I did not answer.
They were loading up my life into the back of an ambulance.
And I was not letting her out of my sight again.
Chapter eighty-nine
Grayson, Tuesday 08:55 a.m.
Istared at the message, the attachment icon sitting there like a lit fuse.
She gave me the one thing I hadn’t even asked for yet.
The roadmap to her trust.
The call came in, short and sharp.
Brooks’ voice. Frantic. Breaking in places I’d never heard.
“She’s unconscious. I can’t get to her. I need the Bentley unlocked. Now.”
My chest went tight.
No breath. No thoughts. Just movement.
I didn’t ask questions. Didn’t need to.
She was in danger.
I opened the app and triggered the override with shaking fingers.
My hands don’t shake. Not ever.
But now they did.
I pulled up the car’s security feed. The Bentley had been outfitted with full in-cabin cameras. Front and rear. Motion-triggered. Audio synced. No blind spots.
I made sure of it.
The front cam showed the airbag blown, smoke curling from under the dash.
Rear cam.
Her head was down, pressed forward.
Blood on her temple.
Blouse torn at the shoulder.
