Page 129 of The Trust We Broke
My blood goes cold.
“Shit, we gotta go,” I yell to Wraith.
We clamber into the truck, and I dial her number as I reverse out of our parking spot.
No answer.
“What’s going on?” Wraith asks.
“What we heard. That Adam dude. He was talking about De Bose’s home office. Not his work office. Lucy’s there. She says there are two of them in her father’s office and asked me to hurry to help her.” I slam my palm onto the steering wheel.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
“Fuck. We even heard him say to De Bose, ‘You need to tell me where you put it,’ and ‘Look, I’ll draw your office. Just point.’ I thought he meant he was trying to find something in thelawoffice. But I guess he meant De Bose’s home office…and that’s what Lucy was thinking, as well.”
I glance off the road, for a second, and see a voicemail Lucy sent earlier too.
And thirteen missed calls from Catfish.
“Hey, Daddy.” Lucy’s voice plays over the speakers. “I’m just headed to check out Dad’s home office. We decided there might be more to find there. Feel free to meet me there, or I’ll see you back at the apartment.”
Her sweet voice, the use ofDaddy. God, my girl is with two ruthless men, and I can’t even start to think of what they might be doing to her.
The next message chills my bones.
“Where the fuck are you? Get to Lucy’s parents’,” Catfish says.
He hangs up. A second message.
“She’s there with her mom. Two intruders. The others are all on the way and I’m fucking stuck with Wren.”
Wraith grabs his phone and types furiously. “I’ll get an update. We’ll save her, Grudge. We always do.”
Buildings blur past as I push the truck faster. Traffic lights become mere suggestions.
Hold on, Bug. I’m coming.
“I just got her back, Wraith,” I say.
He slaps my shoulder. “I know. And we can save me ripping on you about how she calls you Daddy until after we find her.”
I remember the look in her eyes, this morning. Sleepy. Secure. Content. Like we had all the time in the world. She wanted me to climb back in bed with her, and I’m sitting here, wishing I did.
And praying I get the chance to do it again.
“Fuck you,” I say, but I’m glad that, just for a second, things are normal.
My phone rings, and I answer it.
“Grudge,” Atom says. “Where you at? I’m about twelve minutes from Lucy’s.”
“We’ll likely get there two minutes before you,” I say, swerving around some parked cars.
“Don’t like you going in without the full club with you.”
