by Kate Kinsley
“Worth every penny for my piece of mind,” I argue. “If it makes you feel any better, let’s pretend I did it for Avery.”
Taking a deep breath, she sighs, but her scowl reshapes itself into a partial smile. “Fine. But whatever this cost will be added into your check at the end of the week.”
“How about you take me to lunch instead? Didn’t you just ask if I was hungry?” Her face flushes as she bites her top lip.
Abigail
After lunch, Ryan accompanies me to pick up Avery from preschool. It’s a quick fifteen-minute ride from the ranch, and it gives her some needed playtime with her peers. I park the car and we stroll across the parking lot toward the play area. There are a few children playing behind the fence, but I don’t see Avery.
I open the door and proceed to the back where the large classroom is. Ms. Marcie is sitting at one of the desks, but there are no other students in sight. “Excuse me, do you know where Avery is?” I ask.
Picking up her head from the stack of papers, she looks confused, her forehead furrowed and nose scrunched. “Avery left.”
“I’m sorry?” I choke out. “What do you mean ‘she left’?” I look at Ryan, who’s just as puzzled as I am.
“Yes. About a half an hour ago. She left with her father, Mr. Miller.”
“No,” I whisper. All of my hidden fears come screaming out of my mind.
“Why would you let her go with him?” Ryan roars. He paces across the room in even strides, his feet thumping across the wood floor.
“Well, he showed me identification, said he was surprising her with a special dinner,” she argues, her voice becoming panicky. “Avery ran right to him.” Her voice trails off once she realizes she’s made a huge mistake.
“This can’t be happening,” I wail, my hands flying to cover the stream of tears rolling down my face. “He’s not listed on the release forms as someone who can take her!”
Ryan stops walking in circles and moves toward me. “It’ll be all right,” he insists, wrapping his arms around me. “We’ll get her back.”
“I’m sorry,” Ms. Marcie blurts. ‘I-I didn’t know.”
Turning away from Ryan, I look directly at her. She’s paler than a ghost. With the back of my hands, I wipe my tear-stained cheeks. “You have no idea what you’ve done. They could be halfway to Canada by now.”
“I’m so sorry,” is all she can say.
I can’t look at her any longer, so I focus my attention on Ryan.
He’s furious.
His rage holds all the power of a wildfire. The flames roar in his eyes, ready to ignite anything he comes in contact with.
His jaw is clenched, and if I didn’t know him any better, I’d be afraid for my life.
But I do know him.
I know he’d do anything for Avery, and that comforts me.
I can’t fall apart—not now. There will be plenty of time for that when we find her.
And we will find her.
Placing my hand on his stubbly cheek, I say, “We need to go.”
He snaps out of his anger-fueled haze, and his eyes soften. “Don’t you worry. That son of a bitch is going to regret the pain he’s caused you. I’ll make sure of it.”
Ryan
Seeing Montana in pain infuriates me.
Seeing her in pain because of her fucking ex-husband…he’s going to wish he was never born.
I need to focus, just like I did as a SEAL—with my eye in the sniper scope.
Focus all of my energy on finding that sweet angel.
Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I coax her out of the daycare center and back to my truck. “I’m going to take you home, then I’m going to go for a little ride. Give me your keys. I’m driving.”
Montana hands me the set of keys. “Where are you going to go?” she whispers as I open the passenger side door for her.
“You said Danny’s father lives around here. Right?” Once her seatbelt is securely fastened, I walk around to the driver’s side.
“Yes, but he’s not stupid enough to take Avery there,” she divulges as I start the car.
“Don’t be so sure about that. You did say his father has a lot of pull in this town, right?
Screeching out of the parking lot, I floor it toward the ranch.
“Yes,” she agrees, but I cut her off before she can say anything else.
“He’ll go there because he thinks he’s untouchable. I’d bet my life on it.” The fifteen-minute drive takes me eight. I slam on the breaks right in front of the porch, then turn to Montana. “What’s the address?”
Sighing, she shakes her head and exits the car.
“Montana, I want that address,” I call out the car window as she begins to walk toward the house.
She pauses for a moment, then turns and walks back toward me. Leaning her folded arms on the window, she whispers, “Just come inside. I’ll call the police and they can handle it.” Her glossy eyes beg me to stay.
I can’t do that.
I need to bring Avery home where she belongs.
“Do you trust me?” My question lingers in the air for a moment.
“Yes.”
“Then give me the address.”
“Give me your phone.” I place my phone in her open hand, and she types the address into my GPS. “Please, be careful. He’s dangerous,” she whispers as she hands it back.
I lean over and cup her soft face in my hand. “So am I. Now, when you get in the house, I want you to call Tanner and have him meet me over there.”
“Okay.” Her voice is strained, and she’s trying so hard to be brave.
“I promise. The next time you see me, I’ll have Avery with me.” She gives me a weak smile, then stands straight and turns toward the house. I watch to make sure she’s safely inside before I spin the tires and race back down the long driveway toward the Miller’s residence.
Abigail
As soon as the front door closes behind me, the sound of flying rocks and spinning tires echo through the house. I never should have given him that address. He doesn’t understand what Danny is capable of, and the last thing I want is for him to get hurt because of me.
Digging my phone from my purse, I call Tanner.
“Abby, is everything all right?” he asks, concerned.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
“No. Danny’s kidnapped Avery.” I wipe a stray tear from my cheek as I try my hardest to stay strong.
“What do you mean? Are you sure?”
“She was at preschool. The teacher let him…let him leave with her.” I pause for a moment to get my emotions under control. “I’m positive.”
“Son of a bitch,” he mutters almost to himself. “I’ll put out an APB on—”
“Ryan went to Richard’s house. He wants you to meet him there.”
“He did what?” he chokes out. An eerie silence spreads across the line.
He’s thinking the same thing I am.
Trouble.
“Fuck. I’m heading over there right now.” Then the line goes dead.
I don’t have a good feeling about this. If Danny’s at Richard’s house, they’ll have security making sure no one will get in. God, I hope they haven’t fled to Canada—or worse, taken the private jet to any country without an extradition.
Ryan
It takes the entire twenty-five-minute drive to calm down.
I need to have my wits about me if this asshole is as crazy as I’ve heard.
And hitting a woman is insane as far as I’m concerned.
My GPS alerts me that I’ve arrived at my destination, and I cruise by the house to better assess the situation.
The house…or fortress, is protected with an eight-foot solid boulder wall with a set of double gates for entry with a camera pointed right at the car looking for entrance.
That won’t work.
I don’t have a weapon, so I need to do this old school—and extract her without being seen.
&
nbsp; I decide the better option is to park farther down the street and scale the wall. I just hope the physical therapy I’ve been doing has strengthened my shoulder enough for me to grasp the stones.
Turning off the engine, I coast down the road until I pass the property line. I turn the wheel and park behind some trees on the vacant lot next to the estate.
Now, to get over that wall.
I’m six-foot-three—not tiny by any means—but I’m also not tall enough to just hop over the stone barricade.
I walk along the side of the wall, looking for any stone that juts out farther than the rest—something for me to grip. About ten feet down, I find what I’m looking for. I’ve rock climbed before when the team was in Afghanistan, but I had rock climbing equipment. I’m glad this wall is only eight feet.
Placing my fingertips on the exposed stones, I grip the rock with my left hand and launch myself up so my feet are positioned about two feet off the ground. While holding on with my right hand, I reach with my left to a higher stone. I lose my grip with my right hand and fall back to the ground.
Gritting my teeth, I attempt it again.
And fail.
Again.
Slowly, I try and make a fist. While just a couple weeks ago my middle finger couldn’t touch my thumb, I can now close my hand. Not tight, but it’s progress.
I need to picture it in my mind, my fingers holding tight to the rock.
No.
I need to picture Avery inside, crying and wanting to go home to her mother.
I try it a third time, making sure to concentrate on my right hand. I reach for a higher rock with my left, and I’m able to hold on long enough to grasp it. One more stretch, and I’ll be at the top.
Giving it all I’ve got, I reach the top of the wall.
I now have a bird’s eye view of the property.
The estate is about a thousand yards away from where I’m sitting. This needs to be a quick in, quick out. Checking for cameras or dogs, I ascertain the coast is clear and hop down.
The yard is treeless, with garden after garden between me and the house.
No place to hide.
Getting as low to the ground as I can without crawling, I haul ass toward the mammoth residence. As soon as I reach the outside wall, I place my back to it and check the landscape behind me.
No one saw me.
Good.
With ninja-like stealth, I check window after window until I find what I’m looking for.
Danny.
He doesn’t look anything like the photo in Avery’s room.
He looks older and worn down.
I observe him through the window for a few minutes arguing with what I assume is his father. After watching their exchange, I confirm my suspicions—his exaggerated macho posturing is an obvious bid for his father’s acceptance.
It doesn’t seem to be working.
I’ve gotten pretty good at lip reading over the years, and I can make out that his dad is telling him he’s a waste of a son and he should have let him rot in jail. This sets Danny off, his arms flailing. I can’t take my attention off of him. He’s a bomb with an invisible fuse.
Although I’d like to beat the life out of him for what he did to Montana, I didn’t come here for him.
I’m here for Avery.
Dismissing them for a moment, I search the large room for Avery. Unless she’s hiding behind a piece of furniture, she’s not around to witness this heated discussion.
She must be somewhere else in the house.
I continue my search, moving from window to window when I see her. She’s sitting on the floor in what looks like a playroom watching her favorite Disney show.
I need to move quick—in and out.
I give the window a gentle nudge, and find it’s unlocked. Using care, I ease it up just enough for me to fit through. I check any other movement before continuing my breach, and find nothing. Without making a sound, I straddle the opening and place one foot, then the other on the floor.
I’m able to make it about halfway across the room before she notices me. “Ri-an!” she squeals and jumps to her feet.
“Hiya, princess,” I whisper as she runs into my arms. “Your momma asked me to come get you, but we need to be real quiet. Like a game.”
“I like games,” she murmurs into my chest.
“Do you think you can be extra quiet for me?” She looks up at me with those huge blue eyes, appearing to weigh out her options. “If you’re super quiet, I’ll take you out for ice cream.”
“‘Kay,” she answers, putting her index finger against her smiling lips.
“Perfect,” I whisper, and repeat her motion. Lifting her into my arms, I move toward the open window. As I reach the sill, I hear a scream. Spinning, I witness a woman standing at the entrance to the room.
Shit.
So much for lowkey.
I scramble out the window as fast as I can with a toddler in my grasp and run away from the house. I’m hoping Montana called Tanner and he’ll be here any minute. I can’t risk climbing a wall with a three-year-old, but I need to move as far from the residence as I can.
“Stop!”
My feet firmly plant themselves in the ground.
I don’t stop because someone commanded me to.
I stop because of the click-click of a shotgun being loaded.
Turning, I find Danny and Richard standing on the porch, Danny pointing a shotgun at me.
“Put her down!” Danny shouts.
“Not a chance,” I answer, standing my ground.
“Shhh,” Avery says, placing her tiny finger over my mouth.
I kiss her hand and she giggles, removing her finger. “Yes, Avery. You won. We’ll go get ice cream in a minute,” I whisper to the tot.
“Otay.”
“I’ll shoot,” Danny warns, wiggling the barrel.
“No you won’t,” I challenge.
Men like him—men who hit women—are cowards.
He doesn’t have the balls.
“I said put her down!” Walking off the porch, he takes a few brave steps toward me, but is still a good distance away. Avery starts to get fidgety and uncomfortable with the situation.
“Daniel, this isn’t the way to do this,” his father says, moving closer to him.
“Stay out of it!” Danny shouts over his shoulder.
“You should listen to your father,” I goad. “Sounds like an intelligent man.”
“I wanna go home.” Avery’s voice wobbles, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“Don’t cry, little princess. We’re leaving in just a bit.”
“Shut up!” He lifts the gun higher, aiming at my head. I shift Avery to my left arm and turn her away from the barrel of the shotgun.
“Daddy mad,” she says, wiping tears from her chubby face with the back of her hands. “I scared.”
“Don’t be,” I whisper, kissing her on the head. “I’ve got you.”
“We go home now?”
“Yes, I promise.” Sirens wail in the distance.
I need to buy more time.
“You think you’re a real man, huh?” I challenge. If I didn’t have this sweet angel in my arms, I’d move closer. But I’m not risking her life. I really don’t know how bat shit crazy this guy is. “A man who beats on women.”
“I said shut up!” His arms begin to shake, either from the weight of the gun or the adrenaline wearing off.
I place Avery down behind me and hand her my phone. “Here, sweetheart. Play with this for a few minutes while your daddy and I talk.”
“Otay,” she answers, tears still welling in her eyes. She walks a few feet behind me and takes a seat on the lawn.
“You’re a piece of shit coward. You’re not man enough to be this beautiful little girl’s father.”
“I’ll kill you!” he snaps, moving a few steps closer.
Sirens are approaching.
Just a few more minutes.
Keep stalling.
; I take a few steps toward him. “I promised this beautiful princess I’d take her for ice cream—a promise you couldn’t fulfill not too long ago,” I mock. “I intend to keep my promise.”
His face darkens. “Fuck you!” he screams, launching himself at me. Taking the gun by the stock, he gets close enough to swing it at my head, but I duck. Growling, he swings it back in the opposite direction, but I anticipate his stupidity. As it whooshes past me, I reach out and grab the barrel.
He’s not a tiny man, but I’m bigger—and smarter. I’m able to rip the shotgun from his grip and toss it on the grass, away from us, putting us on a semi-even playing field.
He rushes at me, and I dodge his swing.
Growing frustrated, he charges forward again, his right arm scything around in a giant arc. I duck under the swing and sidestep around him.
Each time he tries to hit me, I move away, farther from sweet Avery.
Once I know we’re at a comfortable distance, I decide it’s time to teach him a lesson.
He comes at me again, same exact move as before—and I’m ready for him. I crash an elbow into his side as I spin under his arm. Bouncing back up from locked knees, he repeats the move in reverse. I can feel the breeze from his fist as it passes just inches above my head.
Dodging left, I place an elbow in his face and he staggers backwards. He retaliates with a low shot to the gut, which misses me by a quarter-inch. The momentum of his swing puts him past me and down a little—the side of his head in line with my left hook.
My fist crashes into his ear. He staggers backward as I follow up with a right palm to the jaw. Dancing backward, I watch him slump to the ground.
My first impulse is to jump on him and finish him off, but I remember Avery sitting behind me, and I can’t do it.
“I think he’s had enough,” a voice from behind me chuckles. Spinning, I find Tanner holding Avery. Two other officers stand next to him, aiming their pistols at Danny.
“How long have you been here?” I ask as I glance back at the moaning body on the ground.
“Long enough to know it was self-defense,” he counters.