Page 163 of Stolen Hearts

“Call Ares!!” I scream. “Tell him Callie is in danger, and to get everyone he can to the fucking Montauk address I texted himNOW!!”

There’re no more questions after that.

“On it.”

I toss my phone to the side as I floor the gas pedal. I scream down the winding coastal roads until I slam on the brakes and tear down the driveway that leads to the house.

There’s a black SUV parked out front.

I grab my gun out of the glove box and jump out of the truck. I duck into the shrubbery, backtracking around the side of the house to the rear door. Thankfully the hinges are well oiled and it opens noiselessly, and I slip inside, my gun raised.

The house is quiet, but my heart is thumping fit to wake the dead as I quietly step through the kitchen and into the living room.

Oh fuck.

Callie is bound on the floor, writhing and trying to scream through a gag in her mouth. Her eyes bulge when she sees me, and she starts to kick and raise hell even more as I bolt across the room to her, drop to my knees, and yank at her gag.

“Callie—”

“B-BEHIND YOU!”

The hit comes fast. I blink back stars, lurching sideways before my face slams into the floor. I blink again, my vision blurring as something hot and sticky starts to drip into my eyes. With a groan, I twist my head, and suddenly freeze.

“I’m sorry, brother,” Jeremy grunts, his jaw grim and set. “I really am.”

His arm is still in the sling. But he’s walkingjust fine, with no cast.

“You…fuck…”

“It’s nothing personal, Castle,” he growls as he steps toward me and raises the butt of his gun. “It’s just business.”

The gun slams down, and then everything goes black.

39

CALLIE

His eyes are blurry,wild, and unfocused when they first open. But even seeing him regain consciousness brings my heart lurching up into my throat. Even if I can’t touch him.

…Because we’re both tied to vertical wooden support beams running up from the floor of the boathouse to the corrugated metal roof. But at least we’re facing each other.

“Callie—”

“Hey! I’m right here!”

He blinks, wincing before me manages to focus on me. His eyes flash as they lock onto me, and he grins a little before his face tenses again.

“Where’s—”

“I’m right here, brother.”

I flinch when I hear Jeremy’s voice behind me. I turn my head, shooting daggers at the man with his arm still in a cast, whom I invited inside and offered coffee to, only to be jumped from behind, knocked to the ground, and tied up. The man suddenly didn’t have a limp anymore, who has since slipped the walking cast off his feet and ditched the cane.

We’re not far from the house, though I lost track of the time. We might still be in Montauk, or maybe slightly west, closer to New York. But where exactly, I have no idea.

Not that it matters. Because nobodyelseknows where we are, either.

I glare at Jeremy again as he strolls past me and a jumble of old gasoline drums, a gun in his good hand. Castle looks up at him, and his face turns livid. He snarls, surging to his feet—or at least, trying to. He gets his feet under him. But we’re both tied too firmly to the support beams, our hands bound behind us around the posts.

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