“Are, uh . . . shit, Logan. I don’t even know what to say. I want to ask if you’re going to be okay, but I wouldn’t want someone asking me that.” He set down his coffee mug and lifted both his hands in the air before letting them flop down onto the counter. “I just can’t believe this is happening. This doesn’t seem real; this is something you see in movies, and on TV shows. It’s something you read about in the newspapers, but you never think about it happening to your family.”

“This is my reality. This happens all the time in my job, but it wasn’t supposed to happen to her. I caused this, Dad—”

“No, Logan, don’t start going down that—”

I dropped my arm and looked up at him, noticing for the first time the redness and fear in his eyes. “But I did! My job, what I’ve done . . . that is why she’s gone.”

“I’m not going to let you put blame on yourself for this. I had to watch you blame yourself for what happened to her back in Texas when you did everything you could to prevent it. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Logan. It’s not your fault; none of it is your fault. Blaming yourself is only going to make it harder, it’s only going to cause you to go down a path that is dangerous for you.”

I snorted. I was pretty sure I’d already been up and down that path a few times.

He rested a hand on my shoulder and waited until I was looking at him again. “I’m serious. This is going to be a difficult time for all of us, but especially for you. We’ll be here for you every step of the way. We’re all hurting, we’re all scared for her, but no one other than the people who took her are to blame. All right?”

My eyes squeezed shut as my head fell back into my hand, and I took a deep breath in and out without responding. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t agree with him.

“I saw what happened to you before, and I see what’s happening to you now. I know you’re hurting, son. I know”—he choked out and his hand tightened—“and I can’t imagine what this is like for you, but we can’t lose you too.”

The air in my lungs left in a heavy rush, and when I blinked my eyes back open, I watched as tears dropped onto the counter. I hated that he was talking about her like she wouldn’t be back.

Rachel would be back.

I needed her back.

LOOKING AROUND THE OFFICE a few hours later, I wondered where the other detectives were as I quietly made my way toward my desk. If anyone aware of the situation were to see me, I knew they would make me leave. But I needed to look up records on Juarez and his boys that would be inaccessible from anywhere else, so I was willing to risk the suspension that would be coming for me if Chief found out. Turning the corner, I stopped midstep when I saw Mason hunched in on himself at his desk, his entire frame shaking and tense.

“Mase?”

His hands dropped from his face to hang between his knees, and he lifted his head like it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. When he turned to look at me, my day of going in circles with my parents quickly fell from my mind. Fear gripped my chest, my legs felt like they would give out on me at any moment, and I felt hot and cold all at the same time.

“Kash, you know you can’t be here right now,” he choked out.

“What—what happened? Why are you crying?” I knew that whatever had him looking like he wanted to die had to do with Rachel, I knew it to my core. I’d never once, in the years I’d known Mason, seen him cry.

Heavy tears fell down his cheeks, and I watched as his face crumpled before he burst into strained sobs.

I stumbled back until I hit a wall and fell down it as I waited for him to say words that I didn’t want to hear . . . couldn’t hear. It felt like my heart was being torn from my chest as I watched Mason struggle to speak. As the minutes passed, my dread began turning into a sorrow unlike anything I’d ever felt before, but no tears came. I was in shock and having trouble breathing. This couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t be gone.

“We’ll find her, Kash, I swear,” Mason choked out, and my head snapped back up to find him looking at me. “I swear to God we’ll find her before they can do anything else to her.”

“She’s alive?” I whispered, and hope surged through me before his words sank in. “What happened?”

“You’re not supposed to know anything, you’re supposed to stay completely separated from the case.”

“I don’t give a—”

“But if the roles were reversed, I would hate you for not telling me.” With one hand he wiped the wetness away from his eyes as the other reached over to his desk to grab something, before standing and walking slowly to me. Dropping to his knees, he handed over a folder and I hesitantly grabbed for it.

Flipping the top open, I pulled out the blown-up photograph and swallowed back bile before the tears started to fall down my face. An anguished cry burst from my lips and my hands gripped my hair after I dropped the folder and paper to the ground.

Mason put a hand on my shoulder, and spoke softly. “They called, they didn’t even ask if there was progress . . . they already knew there wasn’t any. They have to be in contact with Juarez or one of the guys, so the department is checking every call and visitor they’ve had. You could—” He paused, and the hand that was gripping my shoulder began shaking. “You could hear her screaming in the background, Kash, and they said they’d call back in another two days. This picture was sent an hour later. They had our techs working on it, trying to track it through the server, but these guys know what they’re doing. It just kept coming to a dead end.”

Another tortured cry left me, and I brought my knees to my chest as my head shook back and forth. “God, Rachel, I’m so sorry—I’m so damn sorry. We have to find her, Mase.”

The picture was burned into my mind, so much that even after I closed my eyes, it was still all I could see. Three of Rachel’s severed fingers. One still had the engagement ring that I’d put on it a few months before. The bright purple color she always wore on her nails a dead giveaway that they were, indeed, her fingers.

“We will, I swear we will. Byson is questioning Juarez again—”

I didn’t wait for him to say anything else. I pushed him back and scrambled to my feet, already running toward the interview rooms.

Mason barked out my name, but I kept going. I passed the first two open rooms, and just as I was approaching the third door, it opened and Byson stepped out, looking down at his notepad.

Hearing my approach, his head snapped up, and his eyes widened. “Ryan! What the hell—”

Shoving past him, I kicked the closing door back open before slamming it shut and locking it, and came face-to-face with Juarez for the first time in almost a year.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he sneered as I approached him.

“Where is she?” Slamming my hands down on the table, I leaned over it as I yelled, “Tell me!”

“You expect me to know what you’re talking about?”

I would have thrown the table if it weren’t bolted down to the floor. Rounding it, I went over to where Juarez was sitting and kicked his chair back into the wall.

“Don’t fuck with me, Juarez!” Stalking over to him, I gripped the arms of the chair he was cuffed to and leaned in so my face was directly in front of his. “Tell me where my goddamn fiancée is!”

His only answer was a sardonic smile.

“Tell me or I swear to God I will make your death slow and painful,” I growled.

“You mean like Rachel’s?” Juarez whispered.

I punched him, and grabbed the collar of his gray prison shirt to bring him closer to me. “I will end you, you son of a bitch! Where the fuck is she?” I was so far gone—my mind only on finding Rachel and making every one of the sick bastards involved in her kidnapping pay for what they’d done to her—that I didn’t even register what the yelling outside the room was about until I was being dragged away from Juarez.