Panic rises within me, even as I try to reassure myself that anything could have happened. Her phone isn’t going straight to voicemail, so it’s still on, which is concerning since she’s not answering it. But maybe she forgot it at home?

I come to a screeching halt when I pull haphazardly into my driveway. Wilder’s bike is parked beside Soren’s car, and Cook’s truck is at the curb. There’s no sign of our girl’s SUV, though.

Rushing inside, I call out as soon as I throw the door open. Cook’s the one who steps into the hallway. “Liv was able to track her cell phone.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” I spin on my heel, heading back toward my truck.

Cook, Wilder, and Soren spill from the house as I’m climbing inside. I wait until they pile in before peeling out of the driveway. In my hurry, I almost hit Cook’s truck, and he hisses.

“Just tell me where the fuck I’m going!” I yell. I didn’t hit the damn truck, and even if I did, we have more important matters to attend to.

Cook directs me down the streets, and I realize we’re taking the route that Freya takes to get to her parents’ house. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, though. I won’t know until we arrive. We’re just a few blocks from her parents’ house when Cook directs me down a side street.

I immediately see her SUV parked at the curb. I pull in front of it, blocking half the street as we all jump out of the truck.

Wilder is the first one to reach the driver’s side door, cursing when he finds it unlocked. He sticks his head into the vehicle before backing out. “She’s not here.”

“Fuck,” I roar, not caring who hears me.

“There’s a note on the seat,” Wilder says quietly, plucking it up and reading it, his face going pale with each word he reads.

“What the fuck does it say?” I demand, but am too impatient to wait for his answer. I snatch the piece of paper from his hands to read it myself, realizing quickly why Wilder grew so pale.

She was warned. You were warned. She’s not yours. She never was. Now she’s where she belongs, and you’ll never see her again. Look for her, and I’ll put a bullet in your heads. She’ll never be yours. I’d rather see her dead than in your arms.

My hands are shaking as Cook pulls the note from my hands, despair crashing into me. Her stalker has her, and there’s not a damn thing we can do. All of our precautions were for nothing. How did he get to her? Could we have done something more to prevent this from happening?

What do we do now?

“Griff, you have to snap out of it,” Cook barks, and my eyes snap to his. “Call 911. Soren, call the detective again. There’s nothing else we can do until they get here.”

Wilder lets out a heart-wrenching scream as he falls to his knees. I eye him as I yank out my phone and call 911, explaining what happened. They advise that they’re sending out a unit. My eyes break away from the tears streaming down Wilder’s cheeks as he pounds his fists on the ground only long enough to check on Soren, who is hysterically yelling into his phone.

“She’s gone, Detective! We don’t know how, but it’s her stalker. They left a note!” Tears slip down Soren’s cheeks as Cook grabs the phone from his hand and begins speaking to the detective in a calm, authoritative manner while wrapping his arm around Soren’s shoulders.

My attention falls back to Wilder, realizing that he’s split his knuckles open. I rush over, grabbing his hands midair as they’re about to slam back into the concrete. His eyes flash to mine.

“This isn’t going to help us find her, Wilder. Reel it in.” Releasing his hands, I lunge forward to wrap my arms around him, holding him against me even as he struggles to escape. “Take that rage and pain and turn it into something else. We will find her—come hell or high water—but we need you for that. You can’t give in to the rage, or you’ll be no help. Don’t succumb. Be strong. Take this moment. Use my strength while yours is flagging, but you have to get your shit together.”

Wilder struggled for another second before going still. Then his arms wrap around me as he buries his head in my neck. His body shakes, his tears hot on my neck, and I hold him through it all.

Soren drops to his knees beside us, and I open my arm to him, beckoning him to join us. Then the three of us take a moment to let the pain, fear, and anger wash over me. We can allow this for a few moments so we can come out of it stronger. Because something tells me it’s going to take all of us to find Freya.

And we damn well will find her. There is no other option.

Epilogue

Freya

IgroanasIroll over onto my side. My head is pounding, feeling like someone is taking a sledgehammer to it over and over again. I reach up to wipe my hand over my face, but something stops me. I freeze at the jangling noise before trying to lift my hand once more with the same results and the same noise.

Blinking, I stare down at my hand. It’s pitch black, and my eyes take a moment to adjust.

Is my wrist shackled?

Laying there for another moment, I realize I feel the same weight on each of my wrists and ankles. Fear seeps into me as I try to move each of my limbs, to no avail.

I’m chained down, almost completely unable to move.