Flynn (Blue Halo Book 4)

Flynn pressed his foot harder on the accelerator. “Tell me you still have eyes on him, Aidan?”

An hour had passed since Carina had been taken. The second his team had shown up at his mom’s house, they’d gone inside, killed the last two men, and rescued his mother, while Flynn had taken a car and gone after Forman.

He’d been too late. The asshole had disappeared.

Now, half his team was on the road, searching for the car that took her, while the other half had gone to Blue Halo to search for her using other methods. It was Callum who’d spotted the car in some road surveillance footage in the neighboring town of Ketchum. That was about ten minutes ago.

Aidan had been closest, and he’d found the car almost immediately. Flynn wasn’t far behind them. Forman was driving north and moving fast.

The sound of Aidan’s engine over the phone rivaled his own. “Still have eyes on him. He’s trying to lose me, but I’m not letting that happen. He’s headed toward Galena.”

“Good. Stay on him. I’m not far behind.”

He pushed the car to move faster, ignoring the ache in his shoulder. He’d wrapped a quick bandage around the wound before resuming the search earlier. That was all he’d had time for. The bullet had only grazed his shoulder.

“Flynn, I need to shoot his tires,” Aidan said across the line.

Flynn’s heart thumped against his ribs. She could be in the car. Hell, he was hoping and praying she was in the car. But if Aidan caused them to crash…

Aidan spoke again, as if he’d heard Flynn’s thoughts. “I think it’s the only way.”

He could be right. And if Aidan didn’t stop the car and they lost her…

“Do it.”

A few seconds passed, then shots fired.

Fear knotted Flynn’s gut, but he pushed it down, knowing this was the best option they had of stopping the vehicle.

“Got his back tires,” Aidan shouted. “He’s lost control and he’s swerving.”

The road curved sharply in front of Flynn, and the second he rounded the bend, he spotted them. “I’m coming up behind you.”

He cursed under his breath as Forman’s car hit a tree—hard. The driver tumbled out, then ran into the wooded area beside the road. Even from here, Flynn recognized Forman. The same guy he’d been chasing in Idaho Falls. The same man who had attacked Carina at his house.

Aidan had already jumped out of his car, disappearing into the forest after him.

As soon as Flynn got close, he slammed his foot on the brake and raced out of the car. He moved toward the crashed vehicle first—and his stomach dropped. No heartbeats.

Scanning the front windows, he noted no one inside. When he forced the trunk open, he held his breath.

It whooshed out. Empty. She wasn’t there.

So where the fuck was she?

Fury tightened his chest as he ran into the woods. But instead of forging ahead, he paused to listen.

Leaves rustled in the wind. Birds chirped. But under all of that, he heard the faint sound of footsteps crashing against ground. Fast footsteps. Moving west.

He took off, running faster than he’d ever run before, ignoring the pain to his shoulder and the branches whipping against his face.

It didn’t take him long to spot them. Two bodies ahead. When the guy in front changed direction, dodging to the right, so did Flynn, but he ran at an angle, knowing if he moved fast enough, he might just be able to cut Forman off.

He pumped his legs faster, slowly gaining ground. The asshole had just evaded a tree when Flynn took a running leap and pounded into the guy’s side.

They slammed into the ground together. The man threw a punch, but Flynn dodged it before returning one of his own right back. The punch caught Forman square in the face, and Flynn swung again.

He was about to throw a third when the guy tossed him to his back. Forman bounced to his feet and pulled a knife from his jeans. Aidan yanked him off his feet and threw him against a tree. The knife fell to the dirt.

While Aidan immobilized the asshole, Flynn stood and lifted the knife before placing it at the man’s side. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

He pushed the knife in, cutting through the shirt and breaking skin. The guy growled and bucked, but Aidan held him firm, making escape impossible.

“Believe me when I tell you, I will slice every inch of skin from your body until you tell me where she is.”

Another buck. “I’m telling the fucking truth. I don’t know where he took her!”

Footsteps sounded behind them. He already knew it was his team. They would have tracked his and Aidan’s phone locations.

“Who’s ‘he’?”

“Greg.”

For a moment, Flynn’s entire body iced, rage causing his lungs to constrict.

“All he gave me was a first name, a number, and half the money up front,” Forman continued. “I told you, I’m a fucking contractor. I was hired to stalk that family in Idaho Falls to scare them out of town by one of his colleagues. And Greg hired me to murder you—which I obviously fucking failed. He then hired me again to deliver the woman to him on the side of the goddamn road in Ketchum.”

“So let’s call him,” Callum said, stopping beside them. “I’ll get my laptop and track his location.”

Forman’s angry silence and panting breaths were the only reactions they got. Callum and Aidan dragged him back to the car while Flynn followed, ready to chase after him if he tried to get away. When they reached the road, Callum went to the back seat to grab his laptop. Flynn yanked Forman’s cell from his pocket and handed it to Callum.

A minute later, and Callum had done whatever he needed to do before handing the phone to Forman. “Call him. Keep him on the line as long as possible.”

Flynn stepped forward. “And if you breathe a word about us being here, if you fuck this up in any way at all, I’ll make your death so slow that you’ll beg me to end you.”

His eyes flared before narrowing. “Release my fucking arm so I can call. I don’t care if the asshole dies.”

Aidan released one arm. Flynn moved the knife to the guy’s throat this time, pressing just hard enough, so the skin nearly broke.

The phone rang half a dozen times, and Flynn almost thought no one would answer. Then a voice came on.

“What do you want?”

Every part of Flynn tensed at the sound of Greg’s voice. Callum’s fingers flew across the keyboard.

Forman scowled, but when he spoke, his voice was clear. “When am I getting the other half of my money?”

“Soon.”

“Not good enough. I want confirmation that it’s been transferred now.”

“Or what?”

“Or I go to that bitch’s boyfriend’s house, and I tell him exactly who has her. You know as well as I do, he’ll put everything he has into finding you both. It won’t take him long.”

Greg huffed. “Fine. Hang on a second.”

Callum’s fingers continued to move.

Footsteps sounded over the line, then the tapping of keys on a laptop.

At almost the exact same time as Greg said, “Done,” Callum nodded.

Flynn shot one look at the laptop, committed the location to memory, then raced to his car. Tyler was pulling up behind him as he started the engine. He knew his friends would deal with Forman.

Flynn had to get to Carina, and he had to get there now.

Carina swung her feet over the side of the bed. For a moment, she closed her eyes as the room spun around her.

Please, God, let my legs hold.

She’d taken the IV out the second Greg had left the room. She didn’t know how much time had passed. Not enough. But she had to move.

Slowly, she pushed to her feet. She swayed but didn’t collapse. Good. That was good.

With slow, careful steps, she moved to the single window and peeled the curtains back.

Her breath caught in her throat. Wood covered the entire window, stopping her from being able to see anything.

Panic tried to bubble up inside her chest, but she pushed it down. Panic wouldn’t help the situation. She needed a clear head so she could think. So she could come up with an escape plan.

She turned, breathing slowly and deeply to keep the pain at bay. For a moment, she grabbed onto the wall, the room once again blurring from the drugs.

When she opened them again, she shot her gaze around the room. It was almost empty. A spare room, maybe? There was a bed, two bedside tables, and a tall chest of drawers. That was it.

Slowly, she moved to the chest and opened the first drawer, leafing through linens. Come on. There had to be something she could use to get out.

She gritted her teeth against the ache in her side and gripped the table to steady herself before searching the second drawer.

It wasn’t until she reached the third that she spotted the long flashlight. She lifted it out and switched it on. It wasn’t a gun, but it was heavy and high-powered.

An idea started forming in her head.

After setting the flashlight on the bedside table, she continued to search the room in case there was anything else she could use. A couple of minutes later, and she knew the flashlight was all she had.

It was fine. That was enough. It would have to be.

At the sound of footsteps on stairs, Carina’s stomach dropped.

Now. She had to act now.

As quickly as her body allowed, she shoved some of the linens under the blanket, forming a small mound that would hopefully fool Greg into thinking it was a body. Next, she switched off the lights. Because the window was boarded over, the room plunged into complete darkness.

Then, silently, she moved to the wall beside the door. She leaned against the wall to keep herself upright and steady.

Fear gnawed at her stomach, but she shoved it down, inhaling courage.

The door slid open, light slipping into the room.

His steps were quiet thuds as he moved inside. He stopped a foot or so inside the door.

“Carina?”

There was a beat of silence, then he moved forward again.

The second he came into view, Carina slammed the door shut, plunging the room into darkness once again.

“What the hell?”

The words had barely left his lips before she stepped forward and shone the bright flashlight into his eyes.

Greg cried out before bending forward and pressing his hands to his eyes. The second he leaned over, she lifted the flashlight high and, using all her strength, swung it down onto his head.

The hit made a loud cracking noise, and Greg dropped. The moment he hit the floor, she ran, not stopping to check if she’d knocked him out. She ran down the stairs as fast as her legs could take her, stumbling too many times on the way. When she reached the door, she wasn’t surprised to find it locked. Greg had warned her.

Exactly why she’d kept the flashlight.

A tall window bordered the door. Leaning against the wall, she took a precious moment to breathe and ward off the dizziness.

You’ve got this, Carina.

Then she acted, pulling her arm back and swinging the flashlight at the glass. It cracked but didn’t shatter. She tried a second time. The stitches in her side tugged and pulled, but she couldn’t allow the pain to distract her. She focused on the glass and the way it cracked a bit more. On the third hit, she finally broke through.

A loud alarm blasted through the house.

She didn’t pause, instead using the flashlight to break more of the glass and stepping through, ignoring the sharp shards that sliced into her skin.

There were no cars out front, but she hadn’t thought there would be, so she beelined for the forest, needing the protection of the trees to shield her. Greg had said it was a large property, that she couldn’t escape. But she was hoping and praying that he’d been counting on the fact he’d be uninjured and capable of chasing her if she tried.

Blood began to soak through her top, the dull ache now turning into a throb. Her stitches had definitely pulled open, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t. Not when freedom was at her fingertips.

When she stumbled and hit the ground, it took every ounce of energy she possessed to push back to her feet. To keep moving. All she cared about was running.

Stones dug into her bare feet, and cold air whipped across her face. The trees and birds quieted, and too soon, she began to slow. Her limbs were heavy, and her wound ached, deeply throbbing throughout her entire body. The temperature was so cold she could barely feel her hands and feet.

She dodged a tree, and fell to her knees with a short scream, then scrambled backward.

A deep hole. A hole she’d almost fallen into.

Piles of dirt surrounded the long pit, and there was a shovel on top of one of the piles. She peeked inside—and the world stopped. Her breath halted in her lungs, and nausea swelled in her gut.

Because there, at the bottom of the hole, half covered in dirt, was Victoria’s lifeless body.