Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Funny how that works.
I’m circling back toward the main entrance when three men intercept me near the equipment shed. They’re wearing staff uniforms, but they move like operators. The real kind, not weekend warriors. Two flank me with their hands positioned for quick draws while the leader stands in front, something heavier bulking out his parka.
“Sir. We need you to come with us.”
I do the math. I could take one, maybe two, but not all three without knowing where Hailey is. Starting a fight I might lose won’t help her.
“Lead the way.”
They take me to a side building. I expect zip ties and harsh lighting and questions about why I’m asking about a woman who supposedly checked out this morning.
Instead, the leader steps behind me while the other two hold my attention.
Something presses against my neck. A hiss. Cold spreading outward from the injection site.
I spin and get one hand on his collar before my fingers stop working. The floor rushes up. I fight it—I’ve been drugged before, trained to push through—but whatever they gave me is industrial grade.
My last conscious thought is her face. The way she looked at me this morning when I woke up with her in my arms. Soft and unguarded and mine.
I’m coming, Hailey. Just hold on.
The last thing I hear is the leader’s voice, pleasant and calm.
“Sleep tight, Mr. Bishop.”
Chapter Seventeen
Knox
Cold wakes me first. Wind cuts across my face, bitter and sharp. Then comes the vibration—motor underneath me, world bouncing and jostling. I’m on a snowmobile, slumped against someone’s back, my wrists bound with zip ties. I keep my eyes closed and focus on steady breathing. Let them think I’m still out.
We’re climbing. I can feel the angle of the terrain, the machine straining against the incline. Through barely open lids I catch glimpses of trees everywhere, dense forest, old growth—wilderness that swallows people and never spits them back out. We’re heading away from the resort, deeper into nothing.
Twenty minutes pass. Twenty-five. I try to track direction but the sky is flat gray and gives me nothing useful. Even if I got free right now, I’d have no idea which way to run.
The machine slows and stops.
Hands haul me off and I go limp, making myself dead weight, forcing them to work for it. Two of them drag me through knee-deep snow until a door opens and warmth hits my face.
They shove me forward, slam the door, locking it behind them.
I catch myself on bound hands, already scanning as I stumble. Wood floors. Stone fireplace. Windows showing nothing but white.
And Hailey.
She spins from where she’s standing by the windows, and for a second neither of us moves. She’s alive. She’s here, she’s standing, she’s looking at me with those dark eyes gone wide and her lips parted like she’s forgotten how to speak.
Thank god. Thank god. Thank god.
“Knox?!”
She’s crossing the room before I can get my feet under me, dropping to her knees beside me, her hands on my face, my shoulders, running over me like she’s checking for damage. I’m doing the same thing—scanning her for injuries, for bruises, for any sign that someone’s hurt her. She looks exhausted and scared but intact. Whole.
“You’re okay,” I manage. The words scrape out of me. “Jesus, Hailey, you’re okay.”
“What are you doing here? How did you—”
“Doesn’t matter.” I reach up with my bound hands and cup her face, just for a second, just to feel her skin under my palms and know this is real. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine, I’m— Knox, how did you find me?”
“Later.” I pull myself up to sitting, and the room tilts. Whatever they gave me is still sludging through my bloodstream, making everything soft at the edges. “How long have you been here? Who took you?”
“There’s a lot I need to tell you. There’s—” She stops. “Hold on. Let me get those off you. There’s a knife in the kitchen.”
She’s back in seconds, sawing through the zip tie. The plastic falls away and I rub my wrists, feeling blood flow return to my fingers.
“Knox, there’s something you need to know.” Her eyes flick to something behind me.
That’s when I see him.
There’s a man standing by the fireplace. Something about his posture tugs at the back of my brain—the way he holds himself, weight on one hip, like he’s ready to move in any direction.
I blink. The drugs are still messing with my head, because for a second I think I’m looking at a ghost. Someone from another lifetime, someone who shouldn’t be here, someone who—
No.
I blink again, harder, trying to clear the haze. But his face doesn’t change. The jaw is the same. The eyes are the same, dark and quick and seeing everything. There are tattoos crawling up his neck now that weren’t there before, but the rest of him—