Page 130 of Retribution
I run down the back stairs and out onto the dance floor, pushing people out of my way.
I get to the spot where I last saw her. The tray is on the ground, upturned.
'What the fuck happened?'
I run towards the edge of the dance floor, looking frantically.
I go through the door and into the quieter hall, and I look up at the cameras, but fuck, they're off.
I'm wild with worry and fear.
'What the hell just happened?'
I hear Blake behind me. He jumps through the door.
'Where is she?' He grabs at me.
'I don't know! She was there, and then the lights went out, and she was gone. The tray was on the floor. She's not here.'
'Daisy? Daisy!' Blake says into his mic.
Shade gets there a second later. He has his phone out and his fingers are flying over the screen.
'Maybe she went to the car. Maybe she's with Sauvage already.'
His phone pings and he shakes his head silently. A few seconds later, Sauvage comes bursting through the end doors.
'You have lost ma petite fleur,' he snarls, looking genuinely worried.
'Like you give a shit,' Blake snarls, stalking towards him. 'All you care about is the fucking drugs she can make for you.'
Sauvage backhands Blake across the face and then has a gun to his forehead so quickly and so casually that it reminds us that, though he’s a softy around Daisy, he’s stone cold and dangerous as hell.
'You waste precious time,' he snarls. 'The cameras are off. I don't know what has happened to her, but if she has been taken, we need to act quickly.'
Daisy
My head is pounding.
I can hear low, muffled machines humming… like engines.
My eyes flutter. Where am I?
I take in a fuselage. I'm sitting in a chair. I'm strapped in.
‘Oh dear,’ I hear a male voice say next to me. 'You shouldn't be awake. It'll ruin the surprise…’
‘Right, Marguerite, as glad as we are to have you back, the doctor says it's best that you get back into your normal routine.'
My eyes crack open, and I’m met with a gray ceiling—one I recognize. The voice as well.
'Now, I mean it, Marguerite, I don't want to correct you, but I will.'
I sit up slowly and blink at the man in the white uniform.
A Blank.
He's holding a white key chain on a belt I know far too well, and I feel the old Stinger around my thigh like an unwanted companion.
