Page 97 of Forget Me Not

My jaw tics furiously as I grind out the words, “Did you know he was going to take her?”

“Yes,” she says regretfully. “All I had to do was watch her and relay information. I told him about the party tonight and said she’d be there. He said he was going to shut down the electricity to the tavern at nine o’clock and I couldn’t speak a word of it. I’m just trying to pay off my debt. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“But she could get hurt, dammit! Do you have any idea how powerful this man is? He could be taking her out of the country right now, for all we know.”

“When I first arrived at the cabin he’s staying in, I overheard him talking and he said he’s going to marry her there, then they’ll leave immediately for Mexico.”

“Jesus Christ!” I slam my hand into the steering wheel. “And you thought he wasn’t going to hurt her? You still thought throwing an innocent girl at the feet of a monster was what good people do?”

I have to hurry. If Ian makes Rhea his wife, I may never see her again. I’ve been looking for this guy for months. I’ve had the best of the best searching high and low. Getting to the cabin before they leave is my only hope at saving her.

I tap on the dash screen, bringing up the navigation map. “Type in the address,” I demand.

“Okay. I have to get it from my phone.” She reaches into her purse, but before she can pull her phone out, I slam on my brakes, the back end of my car fishtailing on the ice before we come to a rolling stop in the middle of the road.

I lay my open palm out, scowling. “Give me the fucking phone.”

“But, I…”

“Now!” I howl. She finally takes it from her purse and lays it in my hand. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid. You were going to text Ian and tell him we were coming, weren’t you?”

“No. I swear.”

Holding the phone in front of her face, I unlock it. “Where’s the address?”

“In the text messages. Under John.”

Once I’m in the text exchange with John, I start reading quickly, finally coming upon the address.

I tap it into the navigation, then press the call button on my dashboard. I shift into drive and slam on the gas.

The tires spin incessantly, but once they’ve got traction on the road, we cruise at high speed.

“Good evening, Mr. Banks,” Arnold says through the car speakers.

I speak loudly and clearly, so he can hear every word I say without a need for me to repeat myself. “I found him. He’s at a cabin in Hackley, Vermont. 1789 Staple Drive.” I clear my throat and take a deep breath before saying, “He’s got her.”

“Fuck,” Arnold grumbles. “All right. I’m sending out a message as we speak. I’ve got a group on it. They’re about forty minutes east of Hackley. The weather is shit, but they’ll get there as soon as they can. Listen to me, Alaric. You need to hold back when you arrive. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to go inside.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.”

“We don’t need you getting yourself killed. We’ll get her back. And we'll bring him down. Don’t you worry.”

“Remember the plan, Arnold. I want him alive.”

“I can’t begin to understand why, but you’ve got it, boss.”

I end the call on that note. It’s easier said than done. I’ll do nothing but worry until Rhea is safe in my arms.

Arnold is a PI, but he’s so much more than that. He’s my go-to man for everything I need. With connections all over the world, he gets things done with the snap of his fingers. He’ll get a group out there, I have no doubt about it, because I pay him a shit ton of money to do exactly what I want.

* * *

“For fuck’s sake, Arnold,”I snap. “I’ve been sitting on this dirt road for thirty minutes. What the hell is going on in there?”

Chloe’s boredom is apparent as she rests her head against the door, humming the same Christmas tune over and over again. If she doesn't knock that shit off soon, I swear my head is going to explode.

“I’m waiting for an update. They’re inside and they have him surrounded. Still no visual on Rhea.”

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