“Miss Masters? If you can, let me know you’re still with me.”

“I’m here, the—” The faux-wall was thrown back, and a scream tore through my chest as a large man’s frame filled the closet, but I couldn’t make out his face. It was dark in the closet, and with the light coming in from the bathroom behind him, it made a strange halo of light around him while darkening his features.

His hand slammed over my mouth while his other arm reached out for me. I kicked at him, and when both hands went for my foot, I screamed help me and hurry into the phone over and over as he dragged me out of the closet. I dug my nails into the short carpet helplessly as he pulled me into the bedroom and flipped me onto my back. Before I could attempt to kick at him when he let go, he dropped all of his weight onto me and started yelling.

“Bring it now!” he yelled and turned to look toward the center of the bedroom.

Another smaller man came into view, and I tried to scream, but the first man’s hand covered my mouth again as the second handed him a small towel. He brought it toward my face and I tried furiously to turn my head to the side, but it was useless. The cloth was pressed over my nose and mouth, and before I could comprehend the odd smell, the room was blurring.

The last thing I heard before the darkness consumed me was a sincere, “I’m sorry.”

MY EYES SLOWLY CRACKED OPEN to the foreign room, and it took my mind a few minutes to process that I shouldn’t be here—that wherever here was, wasn’t good. I jolted upright and immediately wished I hadn’t as the room tilted to the side and my stomach rolled. Falling toward the side of the mattress in preparation for whatever was about to come up, something caught my shoulders, and I hung there limply as a deep voice spoke softly.

“Whoa, easy, easy, easy. You’re okay. Let’s sit you back up and I’ll get you some water.”

My body hunched over as I dry-heaved against his arms, and he never once moved as my empty stomach tried desperately to get rid of anything. When I quieted, he started pushing me back into a sitting position, and I flew back and away from his arms. The room tilted again, but passing out wasn’t an option, I needed to get out of there. He reached for me when I swayed back, but I used my legs to launch my body in the opposite direction, and off the mattress.

I took off for the door, but my feet hadn’t touched the ground twice before he had his arms wrapped securely around me, holding me to him as I swung and kicked, and screamed for someone to help me.

“Calm down, I won’t hurt you.” He grunted when one of my flailing limbs connected. “Please calm down.”

“Let go of me! Help me! Someone help!”

“I won’t hurt you, but I need you to calm down,” he gritted, and when I kept trying to get away, he continued to stand there holding me to him.

The nausea and dizziness came back quickly, and soon my arms and legs felt like dead weight. I wanted to keep fighting against him, needed to keep fighting against him—but I was losing strength fast. Images of Blake on top of me were flashing through my mind and fear clawed at me. I needed to stay awake, and I needed to get out of here.

“Help . . . me,” I pleaded to the door and scratched against my captor’s arms. For the first time, I agreed with Candice that I should have let my nails grow long. My legs gave out and the captor easily held my weight as he backed us up to the bed and I struggled to get his arms away from me. This couldn’t happen. Not again.

“You ne—” A deep growl worked up his chest when I dropped my head and bit down on his hand as hard as I could. He took a few deep breaths in and out as I futilely attempted to claw my way out of his arms before he spoke again. “I’m not going to hurt you, stop hurting me.”

Tears fell freely down my cheeks the minute he sat down, and he pushed himself back until he was sitting up against the wall, with me still in his arms. I tried calling out for help again—even though I somehow knew that if anyone was on the opposite side of that door, they weren’t going to help me—but nothing came out.

There was no fight left in me. There was nothing but the purest form of terror. I’d faced Blake, but I’d been prepared for some of his crazy and I’d known him most my life. I didn’t know the man keeping my body still against his, I didn’t know where I was, I didn’t know what I was up against . . . and I didn’t know if I would ever see Kash again.

That thought broke me and my body sagged under the stranger’s firm hold as tears alternated hitting his arms and falling onto my bare legs.

“Please,” I forced out and tried once more to remove his arms. They didn’t move, and he didn’t respond for countless minutes as the dizziness and weariness won out.

My eyes shut against their own will, and like back home, the last thing I heard was his voice. “I’m sorry.”

Kash

“YOU GOOD?” I asked Mason as we headed back toward the elevators.

He shrugged and punched at the buttons on the wall. “There’s only so much you can do to get them to go in a different direction. He wanted to follow his brother.”

The call from last night ended up being a drive-by involving a newer gang that we’d come across recently, and one of the two victims had been L’il Tay, a thirteen-year-old who Mason had been trying to get off the streets over the last few months. And though Mason was acting like this was just another case, I knew this was harder for him than the rest.

Knowing there was nothing I could say, I clapped his shoulder and let him be alone with his thoughts. Grabbing my phone, I smiled when I was finally able to open Rachel’s text from last night.

SOUR PATCH:

Just so you know . . . cleaning up from a whipped cream war without you isn’t nearly as fun. See you when you get home. Love you.

We just finished up, be home soon babe. Love you too.

The doors to the elevator opened and we stepped in. As they were closing, someone started yelling my name from down the hall, and Mason caught the door just in time.

“Ryan! Gates!” Sergeant Ramirez ran toward us, and as soon as he was in the elevator he started pounding on the CLOSE DOORS button.

I suppressed a groan. All I wanted to do was get home to Rachel and Trip.

“We already have three units at the scene, and I’ll be following you there.”

Ramirez was a K-9 unit, why were they wanting his dog, Crush, there . . . and what scene? “Wha—”

“I know you’re anxious to get there, but you know we’re doing everything we can for this.” The elevator was already moving, but Ramirez kept stabbing at the ground-level button. “How are you holding up? You look really calm, are you in shock? Maybe you should let Gates drive.”

That seemed to snap Mason out of his thoughts. His hand jerked away from his mouth and his eyes widened. “Why would I need to drive?”

“And why would I be in shock?” My heart started racing as Ramirez started hitting the OPEN DOORS button.

Ramirez shot us a strained, sympathetic look before ushering us out to the underground parking lot. “You weren’t informed?”

“Of what?” I was supposed to be the one in shock. So it had something to do with me. Everyone close to me starting flipping through my mind until a sinking feeling hit my chest and stomach. Oh God . . . Rachel. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry, I thought someone already told you, you were supposed to be informed already,” he mumbled to himself as he kept walking toward the lot. “Look, I’m sorry I’m the one that has to tell you this.” He stopped walking abruptly and turned to look at me. His expression was one I had seen so many times, and had even had to use myself. It felt like time slowed as I waited for him to tell me one of fifty scenarios that were speeding through my mind. “A call came in to dispatch about an hour ago. It was your fiancée, Ryan. The only thing that came from her end of the call was her saying her name, someone had broken in—”