For a split second, I wish I could see the guy’s face. I wish I could look into his eyes and see more than just a blur, because if I could, maybe I could tell if he’s lying.
“I can’t see,” I say.
“I’m sorry about that. Your vision will clear. I don’t know what they gave you, but whatever it is has probably affected your eyes. Are you feeling okay otherwise?”
“No. I’m not feeling okay. Where the hell am I?”
“As far as I can tell, at some kind of safehouse.”
“Safehouse? Does that mean I’m actually safe?”
“Unfortunately, no. Safehouses are places criminals use to hide out.”
“I’m not a criminal.”
“Neither am I. I’m trying to take down some criminals.”
“But you just said you work for the Wolfe family.”
“I do. This is personal.”
“So you’re not working for the Wolfes right now?”
“No. I’m trying to find the motherfucker who tried to kill my sister.”
I lie back down, close my eyes. If this man were going to hurt me, he probably would’ve done it by now. I don’t feel as if I’ve been violated in any way, although whatever they gave me could be masking those feelings. It’s obviously doing a number on my head and on my vision.
“Listen, Moonstone.”
I jerk upward once more. “That’s not my name.”
“I know it isn’t. You didn’t give me your real name.”
Why did I tell him Moonstone? I hated being Moonstone.
Will Moonstone always be a part of me?
The thought scares me, and although I desperately want it not to be true, I already know that it is. Ten years of my life can’t be erased in a moment. I’m not sure why I ever tried.
How I wish I were back in Manhattan now. In a session with Macy, maybe talking to Zee or to Aspen. Getting on with my life.
Why did I come here, anyway?
For Luke.
Sure, my father had been in a post-anesthesia coma post, but he turned out to be fine. He probably has his biopsy results by now, and he’s probably found out that his liver tumor is benign.
And Jed…
I rescued that beautiful dog, brought him here, which was a pain in the butt, and he probably hated being in the luggage compartment, and now where is he? I promised him a good life.
What will happen to him?
If someone took me from my hotel room, is he still in my room? He’s probably hungry, thirsty. He needs to go outside and do his business.
I certainly can’t depend on my mother to take care of him.
I choke back a sob.
No, I will not cry. I will not go back to that place.
“You all right?” The blurred figure of the man comes closer to me.
“You stay away from me,” I say. “I’m fine. Fine.”
“You don’t need to back away from me,” he says. “I said I wouldn’t hurt you, and I do not break promises.”
“Tell me your name, then.”
“My name is Antonio Moreno,” he says, his voice a deep rumble. “But people call me Buck.”
37
LUKE
We have your woman.
That’s all the text says.
Those words scare me enough, but it’s the emoji that really makes my blood run cold.
It’s a spade, like the card suit.
King’s calling card.
The king of spades.
In the ancient tradition, the card suit of spades represents nobility. King always considered himself a king, not just a name.
The rage. My old untrustworthy friend.
It snakes along my spine like a cobra ready to strike.
Damn it, Trey, you’re smarter than this.
I hear the words in my old man’s voice.
I need his help. This isn’t just about me anymore—about me and my worth and whether I deserve Katelyn.
No. Now it’s about Katelyn herself. About the safety of the woman I love.
First, they sent a bomb. Now they’ve taken her.
All because of me.
I swallow the rage, gulp hard against it, because I need to be able to think clearly. All that matters now is Katelyn.
They haven’t harmed her.
Her safety is at least guaranteed. They know I won’t come if it’s not.
Why did they have to bring Katelyn into it? Why didn’t they just come and take me? My life is nothing without Katelyn.
But that’s the point.
I worked with King long enough to know his MO.
He doesn’t bother harming people for no reason. He doesn’t bother taking people for no reason. He breaks a few legs when he needs to, but he keeps it business.
Families are off-limits. Loved ones are off-limits.
Which means this isn’t business to him.
This is personal.
I’m not surprised. I knew it would be.
I knew I wouldn’t get out of this alive.
But Katelyn… My sweet and innocent Katelyn.
There’s only one thing for me to do.
Trade myself for Katelyn.
King doesn’t want to find me. He wants me to go to him.
And he found the one thing that will get me there.
I text him back.
What do you want?
Your fucking head on a platter, Lucifer Raven.
Oh my God.
I’ve heard those words before, spoken to me but not texted.
Pollack. When he assaulted me at the bus station in Manhattan.
Fucking Pollack.
In cahoots with King.
Which explains how he knew my street name but not my actual identity. He knew only what King wanted him to know. How did King find Pollack? Is King still helping him? If so, then Pollack isn’t staying at his studio.
Doesn’t matter. None of it. All that matters now is protecting Katelyn.
Damn it.
You’re smarter than this, Trey.
My old man’s voice again.
I could go to him. I could get his help.
But I need to leave him out of this. He’s done enough, all he can to ensure my safety. I can’t drag him into this. He needs to take care of my mother, my brother, and my sister.
This is all on me.
You can have me, I text back. My life for hers.
You’re not in any situation to make bargains, he texts back.
Anything. I’ll do anything.
Yeah, you will. I’ll be sending instructions. You will do exactly as I say.
I don’t bother texting back.
He knows I’ll do it.
He knows how important Katelyn is to me.
Now, more than ever, I’m ready to give my life. Ready to give my life for the woman I love.
I already knew I was a dead man.
Now? The only difference is I’m happy to be heading to my death. Happy…because it means Katelyn will survive.
38
KATELYN
Buck. The name sounds slightly familiar, but I can’t place it. My head is still a mess. I feel like my skull is sitting on a bed of nails.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“I made an error in tactical judgment,” he says.
“What kind of an error?”
He doesn’t respond right away. Just as well. I’m not sure I’m capable of understanding any error in any kind of tactical thing with my mind still in a haze.