She turned and stared at me from afar with a smile. God, at that moment I really wished I knew what she was thinking. She walked toward the car and we made eye contact. I wanted to run to her, kiss her, and run my fingers through her hair. But I would wait for her, keep her guessing, wanting, needing more of me. Jennifer liked to play the game of Finnley Felton.

Something clicked inside of me when she was away, and I knew then that I had it bad for her. I was completely and utterly addicted to every piece of her. I still imagined the smell of her skin on mine and the touch of her lips on my neck. Jennifer fucking Downs… the only woman that could pussy-whip me. Me? How did I get into this situation?

I watched her, every movement she made. Jennifer looked so content, like she had just learned a secret. What had Luke said to her before he left?

My insides burned with desire. It would take every piece of me not to just lay her flat in the backseat, but I didn't know the driver and that would be a little awkward. I would wait, but not because I wanted to.

She stalked closer and was only a few feet from the car. In the distance, screeching tires echoed from a vehicle speeding down the road. Moments later it slammed on the brakes behind me. I turned around and looked. Men in black exited the car and ran toward Jennifer.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't speak.

The shock of it all froze me.

They grabbed her.

A blood-curdling scream escaped her. "Finnley! Help me!"

I tried to get out of the car and save her but the driver locked the doors. Fucking child-proof locks kept me inside.

"Go after her," I screamed, and the driver turned around and snarled at me.

"No fucking way," he said.

I reached over the seat and put him in a headlock. I would have choked the fucking life out of him. He opened the door and struggled to get out. When he hit the pavement, I had two choices: go after the fucktard, or go after Jennifer. I would choose her every time.

All of my emotions went haywire. My adrenaline and anger spiked to an uncontrollable level, and I gunned the car forward. Jennifer had been taken.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and called Luke.

"Luke," I said breathlessly.

"What? What's going on?"

"Jennifer. Someone took her at the station."

"What? Where are you now?"

"Call the police. I'm chasing them."

I hung up the phone and searched for the car.

Not now. Not fucking now. This could not be happening.

I had been without her for far too long. Now I was on a wild fucking goose chase for the woman that I needed, for the woman that I couldn't live without.

I sped up through the valleys and headed toward the city.

If I were a kidnapper, where would I go? I went to the heart of the city and searched the back alleyways before the stress of losing her overtook me. For a moment, I thought I had found the men that took her, but when I advanced on the car, a man and his children peered back at me. I knew I looked like a maniac and with each passing hour, I became more desperate.

Frustration seemed to control me. I could barely handle myself, so I got out of the car and beat the shit out of a lamppost. The physical pain evened out my being distraught.

With bloody, stinging knuckles, I reached into my pocket to answer the phone.

"Do you have a description?" Luke was in a panic.

I knew he was worried. As much as he gave his blessing, I knew he still cared for her.

"No. They wore masks. Mum's driver was in on it. I am so fucking angry right now. I… I can't live without her. I can't fucking do this."

"We will find her. There is a search out for her. I called in a favor from a few people in London. We will find her. I promise."

"You did not fucking get them involved," I said. I sucked in a deep breath with hopes to calm myself.

"If anyone can find Jennifer in London, it would be Abbot. You know that. I had no other choice."

I hung up and headed back to Mum’s. She opened the door—worry, fear, and sadness covered her face. I ran into her arms and let her hold me like she did when I was child. Her fingers running through my hair comforted me.

"Look at me. Look at me, Finnley. It's going to be okay. I promise. We will find Jennifer. And don't give me that look. Your father used to look the same when he was upset."

"Mum."

"She will be found. If anyone can find her, your old lot will," my mother said, and lowered her eyes.

"I did not call them. I did not want them involved."

"I know, son, but I think Luke made the right decision. Those men know the trade. Hell, they are the heart of some of the problems in London but I trust they could find anyone in this city."

I squeezed her and tried to hold back my emotions, something that I was good at doing. The negative fucking voice in the back of my head drove me to edge of insanity: most women that were taken were never found.

That night, I stayed at my parents’ house. Exhaustion from flying and the horrible fucking events tired me. I climbed the stairs, lay in my bed, and stared at the white ceiling. The last time I slept in that room was before I left for Columbia.

When I closed my eyes, I could almost smell her.

Hours passed, and I couldn't sleep. Horrific thoughts controlled me.

If they touched her or if they hurt her in any way, I would fucking kill the lot of them.

The last look of raw contentment that covered her entire body haunted me through the night. I would burn the world down searching for her.

The car smelled like musk and cigarettes, and the stench choked me. The men spoke French¸ and I couldn't understand a damn word they said.

I screamed Finnley's name until my voice went hoarse. The disgusting creatures that pretended to be men stuck a gag in my mouth and slipped a black hood over my head. They jerked my wrists behind my back as I struggled to get away and tied them together tightly with rope. The darkness followed me, and for a moment, I allowed myself to walk into the shadows of the horrible things that poisoned my thoughts. Would I make it out alive, or would they kill me?

More French, a phone call, and the car jolted forward. I had no idea what direction we were going, but before I completely lost it, I calmed myself with the fact that Finnley had seen what happened. He would come for me. He would save me. Wouldn't he? I couldn't panic, not right now, not when I needed to stay focused and calm.

Although I couldn't see, I tried to focus on the faces of the men who weren't wearing masks. Mustaches, dark hair and eyes, they all could have been brothers.

My fears fucking taunted me.

What would they do with me now?

Sell me?

Kill me?

Where were they taking me?

I swallowed around the material in my mouth and counted to ten, trying to stay perfectly still. My lips were dry and hurt, but that was the least of my concerns.

Concentrate.

The night had been perfect. Why did this have to happen?

The man chatted quietly on the phone, and when one said Finnley's name, my heart dropped. Finnley Felton was surrounded by French words, and his name stuck out like a sore thumb. My heart stung with the mention of his name. No, no, no, it was not a random kidnapping; this shit was planned.

The car slammed to a halt, and my body flung forward. A man jerked me from the car, and I stumbled over my feet. His grasp faltered. I tried to pull away from them, to run, but he grabbed the sleeve of my dress with a hard fist, and it ripped.