Chapter 3

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Claire is screaming from upfront to keep driving, but the engine stalls. I kick Patrick's dead body off of me and stand, perspiration coating my skin. I'm point-two seconds away from passing the fuck out. My body is beginning to shut down from the physical trauma, but I can't allow it to just yet.

Jay quickly unbuckles and stands. "Come on, they're waiting for us," he urges, noting the state of duress I'm in.

"I need to take care of Claire," I say, but that notion dies the second we bust open the van doors. Other cars have already stopped on the side of the road, getting out of their vehicles to check on us.
Fuck.
I can't kill a woman in front of civilians, no matter how tempted I am. Just as Jay and I crawl out, Claire emerges from the passenger side, a wild look on her face.

"Don't you dare," she hisses through her teeth. Red lipstick stains them, giving her a feral look. "Or what?"

When she has no answer, I shoot her a wink just to get her asshole clenching from anger, and head towards the huge military-grade van waiting for me.

"Hey, you good?" a passerby asks.

"Yep, all good. Thanks for stopping," I say over my shoulder. The bright headlights from his car highlight the incredulous look on his face as he watches me climb into the open doors.

Michael's face greets me, and I nearly sigh in relief. If he's alive, that means the little girl we saved from the ritual is, too. He leans forward and helps me in, assumingly noticing the agony painted on my face. I can feel my scars tightening, now incapable of concealing the misery. My poker face has cracked.
I'm ready to let Jesus take the wheel. The second I collapse on the bench, Michael pounds once on the wall, and we take off.

"We need to get her to a hospital," Jay says, glancing at me with concern. "A bomb went off, and Lisa was within range of the blast."

"Why the fuck did they set off a bomb?" Michael asks.

"My guess is it was one of the self-destruct bombs, implanted specifically to destroy all evidence and anyone inside. They're commonly in places with top-secret information in case they're infiltrated or compromised."

I grunt. "We'll have to check in with who was impacted by the explosion and make sure none of ours were killed."

Jay nods, and I turn my attention to Michael. "You get the girl out safely?"

"Yep," he confirms. "With Ruby, and on her way to get treatment."

I nod, some of the pressure easing off my shoulders, but not nearly enough. It's like the Empire State Building is resting on them, and only a penny fell off.
They still have Rosie, and the rage is steadily churning beneath the surface. I'm going to burn the entire fucking world down until I find her, and I don't care who gets burnt.

*****

"Do we know anything about who was involved in her kidnapping?" I ask, voice tight with fury, clicking off the video on my laptop. I just finished watching the surveillance footage of Rosie's car crash, caught by several streetlight cams. Watching her being dragged from her car, knocked out, then carried into the van has me shaking with rage. Jay is already working on tracking it through street and security cams, but it doesn't feel like enough.

I've only been admitted in the hospital for a few hours, and I'm seconds away from leaving again. Thankfully, I didn't suffer any serious damage. My entire back is black and blue from when I was propelled into the altar, but there wasn't any internal bleeding like I had feared. I got lucky I didn't break my goddamn back, but I damn near came close to it.

"Her picture was posted to a forum on the dark web a day before she was taken. The poster was anonymous, of course, but the ad reads that if anyone brings Rosie in alive, then they'd receive a fucking massive reward."

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