Page 56 of Saved from Obsession

Cole answers with an easy, “Leo, what’s up?”

My words burst out in a sharp, staccato rhythm. “I need you. And Rylan. Georgia’s gone. He got to her somehow. Threatened her. She left.”

A sharp intake of breath. “What?“ A pause. “Fuck.”

“She has the tracker.” The program is still updating, almost done, and I’m going insane with waiting. “I need to find her.”

His tone drops, all business. “We will. I’ll call Rylan, have him get a car ready to go. I’ll grab supplies. Meet us downstairs, we’ll be ready to roll out in less than five.”

The tracking program finally finishes loading and I click to find Georgia’s name on the menu, almost collapsing in relief when I see her tracker active and static. She’s on the outskirts of Port Chester, about fifteen miles from here—zooming in, it looks like she’s in a building in the commercial district.

Why there?

But I’ll figure it out in the car. The important part is getting there. So I grab the laptop, still keeping it open, and race out the door. Cole is waiting at the bottom of the stairs for me, a large black duffel bag slung over each shoulder. He jerks his chin at me and we both start running again.

“Ry’s out front,” Cole calls to me. “Faster to go that way.”

I don’t answer him, just push myself even faster. We burst out the front door and make a beeline for the car—Cole remotely opening the tall security gates as we go. Cole tosses the bags into the backseat and leaps in behind them while I duck into the front and set the laptop on my knees.

“Port Chester,” I bark out, and Rylan steps on the gas.

As we speed down the road, my attention is a hundred percent on the screen in front of me. Georgia still hasn’t moved, so I find the address and rattle it off to Rylan, then stare at the satellite image of the building to figure out our best plan of action.

Cole pulls up the image on his phone and quickly inspects it, saying, “Two entrances, one front, one rear. I’ll take the front, Rylan and Leo, take the rear. We’ll go in with tranq guns, try to keep things quiet since it’s in a crowded area. Non-lethal if possible. Only use our backups if we need to.”

“You can’t go in alone,” Rylan says, his eyes never leaving the road. “We don’t know how many people we’re dealing with.”

“I’llgo in alone.“ My response is immediate.

“No, Leo.” Cole stares at me, his brows pulled down, eyes dark but steady. “You need to go with Rylan. And he needs to go in first.”

Shit. I know why he’s saying it, and the reason makes my body go ice-cold. “She’sgotto be okay.“ It’s less a statement than a plea. “Shehasto be.”

But the panic I’ve been keeping a vise grip on is working its way free. After a heavy pause, through a narrowing throat, my fears spill out. “What if she’s hurt? What if—”

“She’s going to be okay, Leo.” Cole’s voice is strong and confident. “Georgia’s strong, she has skills, it hasn’t been that long since she left. Don’t panic.”

I can’t bring myself to speak. All I can do is stare at the little dot on the screen and hope with all my heart that Georgia is still alive when we get there.

CHAPTERTWENTY

GEORGIA

A throbbing pain filters through layers of fog, each pulse stronger than the last.

It’s radiating through my body—everything hurts. My skin. My hair. Nausea sweeps over me in powerful waves.

It’s black in here. Quiet except for the echoing drums in my head.

I can’t make sense of it. What’s happening? Why do I hurt? My thoughts are sticky, clinging and tangling before I can make sense of them.

Something else slithers out of the fog, icy fingers dragging up my back, chills of dread following. The cold pierces through the blanket of confusion, the pain, the sickness clenching at my stomach, bringing something more terrifying.

Memories, reality,feartug at me.

The fingers turn to grasping hands, yanking me toward reality. I still hurt. My gut still clenches and twists. My head is still fuzzy, pounding, pressure pushing behind my eyes. But it’s theotherthings I’m so much more afraid of.

Things I don’twantto remember. Things I don’t want to know.

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