39. Maggie

Maggie

M y heart pounds as I approach the dilapidated house at the address Don gave me. The evening air is cool against my flushed skin, easing some of the heat radiating from my body. The comm in my ear buzzes with quiet static, a lifeline to my team waiting nearby. I hope they're enjoying the snacks I stashed in the van because things are about to get real interesting.

I reach the front door, my hand unsteady as I knock. There's no response, just the eerie silence of the deserted street. Great, a house that's as talkative as a rock. My phone rings, jarring me from my focus. It's the same number Don used before.

"You weren't supposed to bring friends," he growls into the phone.

My eyes dart to the street, my mind racing. "Don, we can work this out. No one is going to interfere with this, and Grayson doesn't need to be involved," I try to reason. My negotiating skills are top-notch. Maybe I should ask for a raise.

Don's response is a torrent of anger, and through the phone, I hear the unmistakable sound of smacking, followed by my sister's cries. But the sound isn't just coming through the phone; it's close, too close. I realize with a jolt that it's coming from a house two doors down. I hang up the call and quickly update my team aloud. "Change of location, two houses west."

"Copy, Parker. We're right behind you."

I hustle down the sidewalk, my heart in my throat. But as I move, a shadow detaches itself from the darkness. Before I can react, a massive figure rushes out and grabs me. I struggle, my training kicking in, but the man's grip is ironclad. Should've skipped the doughnuts at breakfast.

My phone is still in my hand, and with a surge of desperation, I press and hold the side button. "Call Grayson!" I yell into the phone, hoping it works.

My team's voices come through the comm, shouting and confused, but it's too late. A car screeches to a halt beside us, and I'm roughly shoved inside, the door slamming behind me. My captor takes off, sprinting down the street. Must be an Uber driver in training. I toss my phone under the passenger seat, praying my on-the-fly plan works. God, I hope he knows to call my team and trace the call. Please let him know.

The car speeds off, the motion throwing me against the seat. My mind is a whirlwind of fear. My body shakes. I had been so close to finding my sister, so close to ending this nightmare, and now I'm being dragged further into the abyss. I really should have taken those self-defense classes more seriously.

"Traveling eastbound in a Corolla! Suspect has dark hair, sunglasses, and a hat," I scream out, the comms already crackling as the signal fades. I'm basically giving them a description of every bad guy ever. Helpful, right?

"Shut the fuck up!" Don yells, his hand flying wildly at me as his eyes stay on the road. I dodge the assault but stop my instructions. My team probably can't hear me anyway. Inside the car, the air swirls with tension as Don mumbles angrily to himself. I try to peer through the tinted windows to get a sense of where we're heading, but the streets are a blur of lights and shadows. He flies through a stop sign, horns blaring behind us, but Don doesn't slow.

"Don!" I yell.

"Shut your dirty fucking mouth!" he screams back.

"You can't do what you want to if you're dead. Slow down!"

Quicker than I thought possible, his fist flies back, landing on the top of my head with a heavy thud. My vision swims, and I lean against the back seat.

As I struggle to stay conscious, my thoughts turn to Grayson and George. I have to get out of this, have to make it back to them. Gray has to teach me to cook his spaghetti. It's an odd time to think about food, but it's the kind of normal I want with him—us cooking together as Georgie watches.

My family. George and Grayson are suddenly my everything. If my team got Vanessa to safety, I only have them to worry about.

The comm in my ear is completely silent now, my team likely scrambling to find me. As the car continues its mad dash through the city, I fight to keep my panic at bay. I need to stay focused, need to find a way out of this. I silently curse myself for walking into a trap, for underestimating Don's capacity for cruelty. I should have known he'd play dirty.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

His eyes dart back to me, too wide. He's not himself right now. I don't know if it's drugs or fury, but he's positively unhinged. "I'll fucking bury you, then I'll bury him," he says, his voice devoid of emotion. Cold, hard facts as he sees them.

"You want to kill your brother, Don? You hear how sick that sounds?"

"Not brothers anymore. He fucking ruined me!" He bellows the last sentence, and my blood runs cold. Whatever familial ties existed between Don and Grayson are gone. Only the cold detachment of a desperate man remains.

The car begins to slow, pulling into a nondescript alley and then to a garage door. As it slowly opens, Don turns in his seat, facing me. "Move, and I will kill the bitch too," he growls. I can only imagine that 'the bitch' is Vanessa. He knows that's the only thing he can hold over me after admitting he's going to bury both me and Grayson.

My heart rate picks up again as the vehicle enters the dark garage. This is it, the moment of truth. I brace myself for what's to come, my eyes darting around, trying to find anything to help me escape. The space is empty except for the car we arrived in.

There's nothing. No way to save myself. But I'm Maggie, a fighter, a protector. There's no way I survived my hell of a childhood to let some two-timing ex-mob boss get the best of me. I will find a way out of this. For my sister, for Grayson, for George. I have to.