Page 47 of Oblivion

Gently squeezing her shoulder, I then dropped my hand and willed myself not to glance at Penny’s severed hair again.

“That’s good. I know my reassurance isn’t much, but please try not to worry. We’re doing all we can to find her.”

Cynthia’s smile wavered, but appeared genuine. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you. I trust that you are.”

I fought the urge to hug her again. Instead, I dipped my chin, then excused myself. An invisible weight clung to my shoulders. For some reason, Penny held a special little part of my heart—one that confused the hell out of me—and those sentiments seemed amplified now that I was part of the team hired to find her.

I met Makka at the curb where he smirked. “Satisfied your morbid curiosity?”

“Yep,” I snapped. “Ready to lock down?”

He threw his arms wide and walked backward onto the street. “You know it.”

I waved him off and took up my position diagonally across the street from his car. Once settled in the driver’s seat of my Tahoe, I reached for the burgers I’d grabbed on the way here. With the music softly playing in the background, I hunkered down for another night of observation, hoping it would be our last.

* * *

Nine hours later, after another eventless night, I checked my watch and sucked back the last of an energy drink. From my position, I could see Makka’s thumb rhythmically tapping on the steering wheel, either listening to music or impatient for CJ and Laser to get here for changeover.

My attention cut back to the house when the front door flew open. Paul sprinted from the house, slippers on his feet and collared shirt untucked, holding a laptop while gesturing wildly for our attention.

We were out of our vehicles without a moment’s hesitation and running for Penny’s father.

“What?” I demanded, wanting updates A.S.A.P.

“I just received an email…” His attention dropped to the laptop cradled in the crook of his elbow, and he hit play on a short video.

It focused on Penny’s tear-streaked face and stricken eyes, and fuck me, I thought my heart would burst right out of my chest.

The hacked, uneven length of her hair hung just above her shoulders, and the tape across her mouth muffled her screams. As the video panned out, Penny’s bound wrists and ankles came into view, fastened to the dining chair she sat in with her knees firmly pressed together. Still in the clothes she’d worn out partying, but without footwear.

It made my blood boil to see someone mistreating her and brazenly flaunting their actions.

“Fuck,” Makka hissed. “Inside,now.”

He plucked the laptop from Paul’s grasp and ran into the house with us hot on his heels. Makka placed the laptop on the kitchen island and pressed play again, leaning close to scrutinize every detail he could. I watched from beside him while Paul tugged at his hair and paced the walkway between the kitchen island and entertaining space.

As Penny’s infuriated screams filled the otherwise silent kitchen, Paul wore a track into the flooring, just like any worried parent would.

Goosebumps prickled across my shoulders and down my back. She had so much fight, so much determination in her eyes. They burned blue like ice lit on fire, and her eyebrows angled sharply in at the center. She wouldn't go down easy, and seeing her strength despite the odds being stacked against her, gave me optimism.

That’s my girl.

Correction. Not my girl.

When Makka started the video for a third time, I turned my back on the laptop and called Jackson. There was only one reason why I’d be calling him this early in the morning, and he answered without preamble.

“You’ve had a development?”

“Yes. Paul just received an email with a video of Penny. It doesn’t appear to be a ransom, as no demands have been stipulated.”

“Casualty status?”

“Other than visibly shaken, sheappearsunharmed. No signs of obvious injury.”

Jackson hummed. “Is it on a laptop?”

“Yeah.”

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