Five minutes later, I’m standing in the guest room down the hall, punching in the numbers with my shaking hands. I say a quick prayer as I press connect and hold my breath while I wait. Luckily, it only rings once before a gruff male voice answers.

“Decker.” He states my name with full certainty it’s me on the other end of the call. “Are you confident this line is secure?”

Clearing my throat, I nod like he can see me. “I am.”

“Good. I’m sure you’ve got a pretty good idea about why I’m calling, and it’s not about your brother’s gambling debts.”

“Blake.” Her name falls from my lips with a breath of hope. “You have her.”

He grunts something in Russian then replies, “I do, but before you start asking a thousand questions, let me talk. You interrupt me and piss me off, I’ll hang up and this offer is dead.”

My ears perk up at the word ‘offer’, and I agree to hear him out. After all, I have no leverage to make any demands at this point. So as he begins to speak, I pace in a circle around the room, listening closely to what he has to say.

“For the safety of both of us, I’d prefer to answer most of the questions you have—the whos, hows, and whys of everything—in person. In addition, she has asked to see you, and I’ve granted her this wish. However, make no mistake about it, if you decide to agree to my terms, your life will be in danger. No one else is aware of this phone call, and as I’d be the one getting you in to see her, we will both be putting our lives on the line in the event we’re caught.”

Even if I wanted to ask questions, I couldn’t. I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say or think or do. This could very well be a setup to kill me, to get rid of the pain-in-the-ass boyfriend who won’t stop sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. But that seems too messy and like too much risk for an outfit the size of the Kabinovs. It would be too obvious. Or maybe I just want it to be.

The Russian takes my silence as his invitation to continue. “I’m aware you’ve been assigned an agent full-time, so you’d need to find a way to evade his watch. Also, it goes without saying, but if you whisper a word of this to any authorities whatsoever, you may as well pull the trigger yourself on your sweet Blake, because that’s the only option you’ll leave me. And, Decker, I promise I will find out.”

“H-how do I know this isn’t a set-up?” I sputter nervously. “That you’re not just luring me somewhere to kill me?”

He snickers. “If I wanted you dead, you’d know it. ‘Cause you’d already be fucking dead. I don’t play games. I don’t talk shit just to talk shit. I’ve got a girl here who’s got some pretty fucked up shit on her plate right now, and that’s not even talking about her god-awful fucking past. She wished she could see you, so I’m trying to help her out and let that happen. For Blake, not you.” I don’t miss the subtle change in his intonation when he talks about her, his voice softening involuntarily. Then he barks, “Now either you’re in or you’re out.”

I stop walking. Every nerve ending in my body is tingling. My tongue feels like it’s swollen to twice its size, and my salivary glands have completely dried up. My heart is fluttering faster than the wings of a hummingbird. So fast it may not be beating at all.

This. This right here. This is one of those self-defining moments. My decision, whether I choose to put my trust in this crazy Russian murderer named Raze or not, will forever shape the outcome of who I become. If my life was a choose-your-own-adventure book, right now I’d be deciding whether or not to continue on to chapter fifteen, which is the safe, responsible choice of calling the FBI and telling them what I know, or jumping straight to chapter twenty-three, where I find out just how dauntless I can be, going up against the big, bad captor who has fallen in love with my woman.

I choose chapter twenty-three; there’s really no other choice. “I’m in. Tell me what to do.”

SIX. IT’S BEEN SIX LONG, miserable days since I spoke with Raze on what has to be one of the craziest nights of my life. After he gave me the details of when and where to meet him, I flat-out asked him about Easton’s involvement, and he verified my brother has no idea what’s going on. Then when I told him about Emerson’s confession, he asked that I hold the phone up to her ear. I’m not sure what he told her, but based on the terror streaked across her face, you’d have thought she heard the voice of the devil himself. Even with the blindfold still on, I could tell she was scared shitless.

When I got back on the line, he instructed me to let her get dressed and leave so that Lance wouldn’t be on alert outside, and then gave me his word that she’d be properly dealt with. I have no idea what that means, but I don’t fucking care what happens to her. She’s been off the map since she walked out of my house that night, and I can only hope I never have to see her again in my life.

Now the day is here. Friday. Exactly two weeks since this entire nightmare began. Two weeks since I spoke to her, and eighteen days since I’ve held her, touched her, or kissed her. And if all goes as planned, at the very least I’ll be able to see my sweet Blake again tonight.

“Are you ready to head out?” Easton asks as he sticks his head into my bedroom. “You guys need to leave soon if you’re gonna make the flight.”

Nodding, I shuffle through the documents in my hand for at least the hundredth time, making sure I haven’t forgotten anything. “Yep. I’ve got your ID, a credit card in your name, the plane ticket, and my boarding pass.”

He offers a supportive smile. “See? Looking so much like me is finally coming in handy.”

“Yeah, if we can pull this off, it will more than make up for all those times I nearly got my ass kicked because you messed around with someone else’s girlfriend.” I chuckle nervously as I take a last glance in the mirror. Dressed in black jeans with a matching t-shirt and baseball cap, I’m thankful the swelling in my face has receded and the abrasions are beginning to fade. I definitely don’t look my best, but at least I won’t scare her when she sees me.

“All right, let’s do this,” I announce as I join him on the top landing of the staircase. “Enjoy being me. I’ll let you know when I book my flight home.”

Surprising me, Easton pulls me into a warm, brotherly embrace and pounds my back with his closed fist. “Be careful, bro. I know you’re a badass and all, but think before you speak or act. This guy is a scary fucking dude.”

I hug him back, hoping this won’t be the last time, but understanding that’s a realistic possibility. Neither of us knows for sure what’s waiting for me when I get off that plane in Reno, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take.

Careful to not be seen through the windows opening to the front of the house, where Lance could possibly catch a glimpse of him, Easton disappears back into my room. He’ll be staying there until I return home, as he’s pretending to be me, home for the weekend. Sneaking him inside this morning from Jae’s trunk wasn’t too difficult, while I kept the federal agent’s attention by walking outside to let him know who Jae was and that she was visiting for breakfast. At that exact time, she pulled around to the back of the house, up near the garage.

Getting me out of here inside her vehicle won’t be nearly as easy. Easton can’t go out to distract him, since Lance obviously has no idea he’s even here, so Jae struts out to the government-issued SUV, sidetracking him by asking random questions, while I make a mad dash to the unlocked back door. I dive in, quickly closing the door behind me, and pray it works.

It’s nearly five excruciatingly long minutes before the driver’s door swings open and Blake’s friend slides onto the driver’s seat. Cool as a cucumber. Like she’s got no idea at all I’m stowed away on the back floorboard of her Infiniti.