My feet pounded along the path, each strike reverberating up my spine. I knew Lawson and Nash had to be behind me. They would’ve started running the second they had a location. The second they heard Wren’s cries.
Because they loved her, too. She was as much of a sister to them as Grae was. And they knew if I lost her, they’d lose me, too.
Trees blurred as I ran faster, pushing my muscles to the breaking point and then begging them for more. Half a mile. How long would it take me to sprint half a mile? Three minutes? Two?
How much damage could Jude inflict in one hundred and twenty seconds? In one hundred and eighty?
Too much.
Flashes of a structure popped into my vision—dark wood falling apart at the seams. The instincts I’d honed over a decade in the military and security screamed that this could be a trap. I didn’t even care. I would let Jude kill me a million times over if it meant he’d stop hurting Wren.
My girl. She’d been hurt way too damn much. And I’d been the source of so much of it. I could be the end of it now.
I broke into the clearing and charged for the barn, gun gripped tight and ready. I stayed to the side of the open doors and prayed the dilapidated building would give a chance at cover. Expecting a hail of bullets, I stilled when there wasn’t a sound.
My pulse thumped in my neck as I crept along the barn’s outer wall and toward the doors. They were wide open. Too welcoming to anyone who might come along.
I strained to hear, and the only thing I picked up was the sound of the breeze in the pines. I ducked inside, dipping low, my gun sweeping the space.
It stilled.
Iron fists wrapped around my chest, squeezing the life out of me. A body lay crumpled on the ground—too slight to be a man.
Bile surged in my throat as my eyes burned. Each step I took was weighed with my failure—my failure then and my failure now.
A strangled sound escaped me as I took in the body. My legs shook and almost buckled.
“Not her.”
I said the words over and over, trying to convince myself of their truth. Wren wasn’t lying dead in this barn. She didn’t have a bullet in her brain.
I stumbled outside, sucking in air and trying not to hurl. Because it could’ve been her. So easily.
“Where is she?” Lawson barked as he and Nash ran across the clearing, Shadow at their side.
“Not there.” I swallowed hard. “Amber Raymond. She’s dead.”
Nash’s eyes widened as he tightened his hold on Shadow’s leash. “What the hell is going on?”
I scanned the trees, searching for a hint of anything that might give us a lead. There were no flickers of movement, no hints of sound. We would’ve all been dead already if this had been a trap.
“She got away.”
The words slipped from my mouth without conscious thought. But I knew in my bones they were true. Wren would fight with everything she had. She was smart. And more than that, she was fierce.
That fierceness was born of all the struggles she’d faced. How strong she’d had to be when the chips were down. I had to believe she’d fight with everything she had now, too.
Lawson started toward the barn. “There could be something here that helps.”
My teeth gnashed together, the urge to simply start running through the forests to find Wren so strong. But I had to play it smart—no wasted time.
Shadow let out a low whine. It was a sound I felt in my damn soul.
My fingers sifted through her fur. “We’re gonna find her.”
I followed Lawson into the barn, Nash at my side. I steeled myself for the sight that greeted us, but Nash cursed. Lawson just stared, his gaze boring into Amber’s fallen form as if this were all his fault.
After a few moments, my eyes adjusted to the low light. I scanned the space, searching for anything that might help us. I tracked footprints from one side of the barn to the other, drag marks trailing behind them.
My stomach roiled with acid. Jude had dragged her as if she were nothing more than garbage.
“Looks like there was a struggle.”
Nash’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I spun around. “What do you mean?”
He pointed to an area closer to the door. “Here.”
I surveyed the dirt where he’d indicated. There were deep divots as if someone had taken a hard fall.
Striding over, I crouched. I narrowed my eyes and searched the space for anything. A small patch of earth caught my attention. I crouched, my throat constricting. I reached out and pressed two fingers to the dirt. As I lifted them, a telltale reddish-brown color caught the light.
“Blood.” Lawson grimaced.
“It looks like there’s some here, too,” Nash said, bending and pressing a thumb to the dirt. It too came away red.
As he straightened, Shadow let out a series of loud barks and whines, pulling at the leash.
“It’s okay, girl,” Nash soothed.
My pulse sped up. “Let her smell the blood.”
Nash looked at me like I was crazy. “What?”
“Just do it,” I clipped.
He lowered his hand to Shadow, and she sniffed like crazy, then started pulling on the leash.
I hurried to her side. “You want to find Wren?”
Shadow barked.
Lawson sent me a wary look.
“She’s got good instincts with scents. Not perfectly trained, but the best option we have,” I argued.
Lawson looked down at the dog. “All right.”
“Let her sniff your hand again,” I ordered Nash. The second she did, I gave her the command. “Find Wren.”
Shadow’s nose dropped to the ground, and she began to follow a trail we couldn’t see. Pain tore at me, knowing the source of it. This wasn’t some airborne scent we might get from someone’s clothes. This was blood. And it was most likely Wren’s.
Shadow pulled us toward the trees, away from the lake and Wren’s cabin. I had to hope it was right and that she wasn’t taking us farther away. I would’ve promised anything, given it all if I could just know that Wren would be safe.
Nash kept a firm hold on the leash, letting Shadow pull him along at whatever pace she set. Lawson and I scanned the forest, looking for any signs of a trail.
Shadow began circling, letting out another whine.
Nash’s brow furrowed. “I think she’s confused.”
That little flicker of hope I’d been holding onto burned to ash.
And then a scream split the air.
