Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
CIARA
I’m definitely going to end up on some true crime documentary because there’s no way in hell Ronan’s going to let me get away with the stunt I just pulled.
If Max’s killer doesn’t murder me, Ronan Sullivan sure will.
He told me to stay put while he handled this situation, and instead of listening to him, I escaped into the night like a bat out of hell.
But he has to know I need to do something. There is no way I could just sit at home for hours on end without knowing where Mila was or what was happening. The inaction was killing me. Especially after that text.
I don’t stop running until I catch sight of a yellow cab with the light on coming toward me, a few blocks over from the Sullivan estate.
I start waving my hands and jumping up and down to try and get his attention, even though it’s almost nine at night and the streets are pretty much completely deserted.
As soon as it comes to a stop, I climb into the backseat and rattle off Mila’s address.
The cab driver looks a little startled, and I can understand why. I must look like I’ve just been running from a kidnapper, but I don’t have time to give him a fake story. I just need him to drive.
“Please, hurry.”
The ride to Mila’s apartment feels like it takes forever, even though the driver is doing his best to weave through the traffic as we head deeper into the city.
My foot taps against the floor the entire way as my mind spins with all the possible outcomes to this story.
Every second that passes is one Mila might not have, and if anything were to happen to her…
God, I don’t even want to finish that thought.
I can’t lose any more of my family. I just can’t.
When the cab finally pulls up outside her building, I toss a couple of bills at the driver and jump out before the car fully stops.
The street is quiet as I sprint down the sidewalk and hurry up the front steps of the building as I spy a delivery guy coming out.
“Hold the door!”
Ignoring the startled look on the guy’s face, I rush past him and take the stairs two at a time to Mila’s floor.
As I’d hoped, her spare key is beneath her doormat, and I let myself in, the scent of her vanilla and citrus perfume teasing my nose as I step inside.
The familiarity of Mila’s cozy apartment hits me harder than I expect, and I stagger backward and lean against the door as I look around.
I haven’t been here in weeks, yet it’s exactly how it usually is: immaculately clean, with little touches scattered throughout that let me know she was here.
The empty coffee mug beside the sink.
The open book on the sofa where she was reading.
The empty plate covered with toast crumbs.
“Mila…” I whisper her name under my breath, even though she’s not here to answer me.
I should feel relieved that there aren't any visible signs of a struggle, that it doesn’t look like she was taken by force, but that only leaves me with even more questions than answers.
I move through the living room, scanning every inch of the room for anything that might tell me where she went or what she was doing before she disappeared.
Her laptop is on the coffee table, but it’s locked, and I can’t try to work out her password because time is not on my side.
I could already be too late.
My throat thickens with tears at the thought.
“Where are you?”
Her purse is on the couch, which is unusual in and of itself. Mila never goes anywhere without it, claiming an outfit is never complete without a purse. But when I quickly search through it, only her phone is gone, which makes me think she was taken before she had a chance to grab anything else.
“Think, Ciara. Think.” I pace around the living room.
The only logical explanation is that Mila went over to Max’s place. It would explain why she was in danger, if she happened to interrupt her brother’s killer. But if that’s true, Ronan’s men surely would have seen her and stopped her?
Unless, of course, Ronan’s men are lying...
The thought makes my skin crawl, but I shove it down before it can take root. Right now, I need to act on facts rather than my own paranoia.
It’s clear that Mila’s apartment is a dead end, so I head to the door, but just as I’m about to leave, my gaze lands on the baseball bat leaning up against the shoe rack, the one we used for self-defense drills back in college, when we were both convinced someone was stalking us on campus.
In reality, it was nothing more than a raccoon living under Mila’s car.
“I never thought I would wish I was about to face that raccoon.” I grab the bat along with her car keys, which are hanging on the hook, and head back out into the night.
I floor Mila’s ancient car toward Max’s apartment, trying not to let panic consume me. It’s hard to stay positive when I can’t help but fear I’ll never hear Mila’s voice again.
When I finally turn onto Max’s street, my stomach drops at the sight of two black SUVs parked across from his building. It seems Ronan’s men are still on lookout duty as I spot four of them standing around, looking like they’re casually loitering.
I have no doubt Ronan knows I’ve slipped out by now, which means these guys will be on high alert in case I show up, and I’m all out of tricks to try and get past them.
I’m going to need a new plan.
I park at the end of the street and kill the engine, but my fingers don’t loosen on the steering wheel as I stare at Max’s building, a lump rising in my throat as I think of him.
If I hadn’t dragged him into this mess, he’d still be alive. It’s all my fault. He didn’t deserve any of this. He was just trying to help me.
It’s clear whoever is setting my family up realized I was getting close to the truth and decided to tie up some loose ends. And Max happened to be one of them.
I choke back a sob when the wave of grief hits me.
How could I have been so stupid?
I should have consulted Ronan first before bringing in someone else. It was naive of me to think I could handle this on my own, and that naivety cost Max his life. But I refuse for it to cost Mila’s life too.
I need another way in, another way to figure this out, because I can’t let Max’s death be for nothing. So, I pull the burner phone out of my pocket and stare at it, as if willing it to suddenly start flashing with the answer to all my problems.
There has to be something I’ve missed.
I’ve tried tracking her steps, but I’m coming up short—
“Oh, my god.” I just need to track her.
I unlock the burner phone and open up the app store to download a shared tracking app that my father set up for the both of us when we were still in high school. It’s a long shot that she even still has it on her phone, but right now it’s the only thing I have to go on.
My heart pounds as I log onto the app, and I hold my breath as it buffers.
My father insisted on Mila and I using this app as he was paranoid someone would snatch us off the street on our walk home or hijack the school bus.
I used to think he was being ridiculous and overprotective, but as I log onto the app and see Mila’s last-known location flashing on the screen, I couldn’t be more grateful to him.
For all of his wrongdoings, my father might have just saved Mila’s life.
Mila’s phone shows up to be in a location barely ten minutes from Max’s apartment building. It’s a miracle I’m even able to drive as I’m shaking so much.
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to call Ronan and let him handle this, but I need to get there first. Need to see what we are dealing with so I can tell him. I’m so close.
Besides, what if he sends his men to get me and he is too far away and doesn’t get there in time? What if Mila is bleeding out somewhere, alone, and is seconds away from death?
I know the reality of the world I grew up in. I know it’s likely that Mila won’t be shown mercy, so I can’t afford to give in to my fear.
I just have to hope I’m enough to save her.
The app shows I’m close to my destination when I come to an industrial area that looks like it’s made up of abandoned warehouses, which only adds to the growing unease in my stomach.
I kill the headlights and slow the car to a stop a safe distance away as Mila’s location continues to flash on my burner phone.
I’m well aware it’s completely reckless of me to be here with no backup, and I have a feeling those handful of self-defense classes won’t be enough to keep me safe from whomever is keeping Mila hostage.
I’m a McCarthy, and we don’t ever go down without a fight, but I’m not dumb either. I know I need help, and it’s time to call in the cavalry.
I grab the phone off the passenger seat and take a screenshot of the location before opening up my message app and creating a new conversation with Ronan.
I attach the screenshot of the location and click send., Then I type,
Hi, it’s Ciara. I found Mila. This is our location.
I wait for a reply to let me know help is on the way, but the minutes tick by and nothing happens.
What sounds like a gunshot pierces the night followed by a shrill scream.
Mila.
Fuck. We are out of time. I can’t wait anymore. I have to save Mila.
Ronan hasn’t even replied to my message, he won’t come in time, won’t be able to help, but I can’t leave my friend in there any longer.
This is my fault, so I have to do something.
Me
OMG, there was a gunshot. I can’t wait anymore. I’m sorry. I’m going in. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m out with Mila. Please hurry.
I lock the screen and grab the baseball bat from the passenger footwell before stepping out of the car.
The warehouse looms ahead, the metal exterior rusted and covered in what appears to be bullet holes, the sight of which makes my throat burn.
The main entrance must be around the other side, but there’s a side door to my right, held open by an old brick.
The gap is small, so it might not be guaranteed that I can slip through unnoticed, but I have to try.
Another scream.
My guilt climbs higher and my heartbeat pounds in my ears as I creep forward, wincing every time the ground crunches beneath my feet as I creep around the side and duck behind a pile of discarded crates and boxes, crouching low as I try to listen for any signs that there are guards on patrol.
But after a minute or so, the only sounds are my heavy breathing and distant traffic.
The orange security lights provide barely any visibility, so it’s highly possible that someone could be lurking in the shadows out of my line of vision, but it’s a risk I have to take if I’m to get to Mila.
Taking another steadying breath, I tighten my grip on the bat and dart out from behind the crates, toward the side door.
I keep to the shadows as I approach, but there still seems to be no sign of people close by.
This is my chance.
I’m going in.
This might be the craziest and riskiest thing I’ve ever done, and it’s all I can do to hope that it won’t be the last.