My father shakes his head, a mocking tone in his voice.
“Aiden isn’t here. And you’re not the only one who came prepared, Eden.”
Before I can react, something hard and cold smashes into the back of my head, sending me crashing to the floor. Pain explodesthrough my skull and my vision blurs. I claw at the floor, trying to reach the gun, but it’s kicked away. A strong hand grips my hair, yanking my face up from the ground.
“Knock her out. It’s time to get her ready for the bid.”
My face is forced down into the hardwood floor, darkness closing in.
If you can hear me, God, please don’t let me die here.
Psalm 91:1: "Whoever goes to the LORD for safety, whoever remains under the protection of the Almighty, can say to him, “You are my defender and protector"
Chapter 36
Roman
Feeling around for Eden's warmth, I’m startled to find only empty space where she should be.
Sitting up, the faint light of dawn barely illuminates the room, offering little to go on.
"Eden?" I call out, my voice echoing unanswered. There's no sign of her in the bathroom.
I get out of bed and find the drawers where I keep my clothes in disarray, their contents scattered across the floor.
"Eden?" I try again, my voice rising with worry. I grab my phone, hoping for some clues.
No missed calls.
My eyes scan the room, and then it hits me: something else is missing.
I move toward the dresser, glancing at the top.
Where the hell is my Glock?
I swing open the bedroom door and fidget with the waistband of my sweats, heading toward the kitchen. My gaze locks withAiden’s, who’s sitting at the table with a spoon hanging from his mouth.
"Where’s your sister?" I demand, noticing the bruises and scratches on my sides.
"Isn’t she with you?" Aiden asks, looking disheveled and confused as if he had a rough night himself.
All our car keys are in their usual spot, untouched.
"I'm calling her," I snap, pulling out my phone.
I dial her number, but it goes straight to voicemail. I redial three more times, each unanswered call heightening my fear.
Zoey emerges from Aiden’s room, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
"Hey guys—"
"Call Eden," I cut her off. "Something feels off."
Without a word, Zoey takes out her phone. Moments later, she looks at me with an expression I dread.
"Voicemail," Zoey mutters. "What’s going on?"
I pull up "Find My iPhone," my heart sinking as I see the last location where Eden’s phone was active.
