His laptop’s closed on the island. Two takeaway coffee cups sit beside it.
River comes up behind me, his body a wall of warmth at my back. “River…” I say, my voice wavering, my eyes not leaving the cups.
“I know,” River says. He takes out his phone. The dial tone rings quietly through the room, once, twice, and then a louder ringing takes over.
I jolt and drop to my hands and knees, reaching under the couch for where Oz’s phone must have fallen. I decline River’s call and the room falls silent.
Jude and Eli jog back into the kitchen. “He’s not in his room,” Jude says.
“Nor the office.” Eli runs a hand through his tousled hair.
River nods at the island. “Two cups. Someone else has been here. Clear the whole house.”
Jude and Eli draw their weapons and split off again.
“Can you track his car?” I ask.
River nods and taps at his phone.
I walk back over to the island. There’s writing on the coffee cups, messy lines like when the barista scrawls your name but… I pick up the cup, turning it around to see the scribbles on the side. It takes me a second to realize what I’m seeing. When I do, dread coils round my chest like a snake. A throbbing pressure builds under my eyes, and I have to bite my lip to keep quiet.
This is my fault.
“Freya, prints!” River snaps at me, and I drop the cup.
“Shit, sorry, I forgot.” It’s a rookie mistake, not wearing gloves when handling evidence, and it’s one I think River knows I wouldn’t ever make. But he’s too worried about Oz to pick up on my lie right now. It was a risk I had to take because the writing isn’t just random scribbles, it’s a code. A code only I and one other person understand.
The message is simple and to the point. An address followed by a threat:come alone or he dies.
I step away from the island and rest against the back of the couch, sitting on my hands so River doesn’t see them tremble.
He pockets his phone and paces across the room.
“Anything?” I ask when he starts paying too much attention to the coffee cups.
He turns to face me. “The techs are tracing the car now.”
I nod. I have a feeling even if they find it, it will be too late. The first thing you do after kidnapping an FBI agent is dump the car.
I force myself to swallow. There’s a lump in my throat made up of all the words I should say right now. All the confessions River’s been wanting me to trust him with. All the truths I should have already told him. Maybe if I had, this could have been avoided. Maybe we’d already have my father behind bars and Oz would be safely here with us now. Maybe.
For twenty-three years my life revolved around one person. Every decision I made, every lie I told, every person I pushed away, it was all to keep a single promise. Nothing was more important. And then River, Jude, Oz and even Eli crashed into my life and now I have four more people to think about. Four more lives to protect.
If Oz is hurt, I’ll lose it all. Everything. And my promise will mean nothing. Because River will not forgive, and he might be the one person I can’t outsmart. But if I want to keep Oz safe, I’m going to have to try.
I wait until Jude and Eli re-enter the kitchen. The guys form a huddle, the three of them a well-oiled machine that will do anything to save their teammate.
I use their focus to my advantage and slip out of the kitchen. I keep my feet quiet on the stairs and gently close the door to my room behind me.
The device Carmen gave me is hidden in the drawer of my bedside table. I dig it out and pinch the thin black device between my thumb and forefinger and hold it to my tracker. A long beep sounds and the light flashes off a second before the mechanism unlocks.
My ankle feels bare without it. Like I’ve lost my anchor.
I scribble a quick note and place it on the bed underneath the tracker. Then I head to the window.
When River was chasing me, I never intended on jumping out the window, but I think, back then, part of me wanted to be caught. I scouted this house for escape routes the first night they brought me here. If I’d really wanted to outrun him, I could have done it.
The window’s not ideal but there’s a drainpipe running down to the ground and it’s sturdy enough to hold my weight. I think.
