Chapter 22 #2
I grab the device and rip it from its base, throwing it to the floor.
It sparks on impact, its metal casing crumpling like cheap tin.
Not good enough. I stomp down hard, twisting my boot until the circuits crush beneath the pressure.
The hum dies instantly, and the silence that follows is deafening.
Asher yanks his phone out of his pocket, thumbs flying over the screen. A heartbeat later, signal bars flicker to life. We’re back online.
“Call Damon,” I say.
Asher nods and dials his number.
“Boss?” His voice is clipped, urgent. “Jason’s been watching us. Mia’s gone—”
He stops abruptly, eyes catching on something just outside the deer blind. I follow his line of sight, and my blood turns to ice.
A small scrap of fabric sits in the mud, tangled in the underbrush. Pink. Frayed edges. A tiny unicorn stitched into the corner.
Emma’s hair ribbon. The one she’d been wearing at dinner.
I move before I can think, crouching down to pick it up. The mud stains smear against my fingers as I turn it over, my breath catching in my chest. She fought.
Jason might have taken them, but she fought.
Asher is still on the phone, relaying details to Damon, but I barely hear him over the sound of my own pulse roaring in my ears.
Inside me, something breaks.
Jason wants a fight? He just fucking got one.
“We can make things easy, or we can make it hard,” Jason says, his voice smooth as poison. His gun points at Ella, her tiny frame curled up inside the backseat of his car.
My breath shudders in my chest as I spot Emma beside her, her head resting against the window, eyes closed. They’re both sleeping, not hurt. Thank God.
Jason follows my gaze, his smirk widening. “Don’t worry, they’re just resting. I gave them something to help them relax. Long drive, you know how it is.”
My stomach turns. “How did you find us?” I ask, stalling, searching for something—anything—to work with.
Jason tuts, stepping closer, his hand shooting out to grab my arm in a bruising grip. Pain lances up my shoulder as he yanks me toward him.
No, no, don’t panic, don’t react.
“You don’t think I know what you’re trying to do?
” he murmurs, leaning in like we’re sharing a secret.
His breath reeks of stale coffee and something sharper: adrenaline.
“Those men aren’t coming for you. See that deer blind up there?
” He jerks his chin toward the barely visible structure in the trees.
“That’s one of several. I managed to get a list of properties Mars Security owns in the area, and I’ve had my people watching each one. All I had to do was wait.”
My blood runs cold.
“They’ll find us,” I say, forcing conviction into my voice. “You think you’re smarter than Damon? Than Zane? Asher?”
His laugh is sharp, condescending. “A signal jammer’s blocking all communication,” he sneers. “And I made sure the brains of the operation was called away on business.” His smirk twists into something cruel. “By the time they figure it out...” He shrugs. “Well, let’s just say I’m not worried.”
He yanks me toward the truck, his grip like an iron shackle around my arm.
“Now, let’s get the girls,” he says. His tone is almost pleasant, like he’s asking me to fetch groceries instead of forcing me into a nightmare. Then his voice drops, his fingers tightening until I bite back a cry. Bruises. He wants to leave marks. A warning.
“And Mia?” His eyes gleam with something dark, something that enjoys this. “Try anything stupid, and I’ll make sure they watch what happens next.”
The ground sways beneath me, my heart pounding against my ribs. I can’t let that happen.
Think.
Find a way out.
Ella’s wide, terrified eyes lock onto mine from the backseat, her little hands gripping the seatbelt like it’s the only thing keeping her from vanishing. It’s been a few hours since we’ve been driving and eventually whatever drugs he gave them has faded. At least they’re awake. My stomach twists.
I ran straight into his trap. And now my daughters are going to pay the price.
A scream rips from my throat, raw and desperate. “ASHER! ZANE!”
Jason curses and moves fast—too fast. His hands slam into my shoulders, shoving me against the truck frame. My skull snaps back, pain bursting through my vision in bright, nauseating stars. My knees buckle, but he doesn’t let me fall.
Of course not. He wants me awake for this.
“Keep it up, sweetheart,” he snarls, yanking open the door. “Scream all you want, no one’s coming.”
No. No, no, no.
I try to push back, to do something, but he’s already shoving me inside. My shoulder slams against the seat, and before I can scramble upright, the door slams shut.
I twist around, heart hammering, but Jason’s already sliding into the driver’s seat, eyes flicking to me in the mirror, his smirk cold and satisfied.
“Buckle up, babe. We’ve got a long drive ahead.”
I barely hear him over Ella’s soft, broken whimper from beside me.
The truck lurches forward, swallowing us into the night.
The road stretches endlessly, a twisting black ribbon cutting through the dense forest. Every bump in the pavement jostles the twins, but they don’t complain.
Ella presses against my side, her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.
Emma’s on my other side, her head resting on my lap, her breathing shallow and uneven.
I stroke her hair, swallowing the panic clawing up my throat. How much further? Where is he taking us?
Jason hums softly, drumming his fingers against the wheel. Like this is just another drive.
The headlights carve out glimpses of the wilderness—thick trees, tangled brush, endless darkness. My heart pounds with every mile marker that disappears behind us. No one’s coming. We’re too far.
After what feels like forever, Jason slows the truck, gravel crunching beneath the tires. A dark shape looms ahead: a cabin, small but sturdy, crouched deep in the woods. The porch light flickers weakly, barely piercing the night.
No neighbors. No roads. No escape.
Jason parks and turns off the engine. The silence is deafening.
“Everybody out,” he finally says, voice smooth, almost gentle.
Ella stiffens in my arms as Emma burrows deeper into me. I don’t move.
Jason sighs. “Mia, don’t make me repeat myself.” His hand drifts to his waist, where the gun sits holstered against his hip.
My stomach clenches. Not in front of them.
I force my body to obey, prying Emma off my lap and easing her out of the truck. She stumbles, and I catch her before her knees hit the dirt. Ella clings to my leg, her little hands shaking.
Jason watches us with something like amusement, then gestures toward the cabin. “Inside.”
I wrap an arm around both girls and guide them forward. One step, then another. Just get inside. Stay alive.
The door swings open, swallowing us into the dimly lit interior. The smell of damp wood and stale air clings to the walls. There’s no television, no photos, nothing personal. Just a worn couch, a wooden table, and a fireplace that hasn’t seen flames in years.
Jason shuts the door behind us, the lock clicking into place like a guillotine blade.
Ella whimpers, and I crouch, pulling both girls into me. “Shh, baby,” I whisper against their hair. “It’s okay.”
It’s not okay.
Jason leans against the wall, watching us like we’re some kind of prize he’s finally won. “We’re gonna be real cozy here,” he murmurs. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just like old times.”
Emma’s breath shudders against my neck. Ella curls into my side, her small body trembling, her fingers clutching my shirt so tightly, I can feel her nails through the fabric.
My heart hammers as I stroke their backs, murmuring soft reassurances I don’t believe. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
Jason watches us, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes—satisfaction, victory. Like he’s finally won.
I can’t let him think that.
My eyes dart to the window, searching for anything—an opening, a weakness. Instead, my stomach drops.
Outside, beyond the porch, I see them.
Men.
More than a dozen of them, spread out, some patrolling the perimeter, others stationed near the vehicles. Shadows move between the trees, figures shifting in the darkness. Armed. Watching.
Jason wasn’t bluffing. This isn’t just about taking us. This is an entire operation.
A chill slithers down my spine, wrapping around my lungs like a vise. How did he get this many people? Why?
Jason follows my gaze, then smirks. “Yeah, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere.”
I swallow, forcing my face into something neutral, something that doesn’t show my rising panic.
“Who are they?” My voice comes out hoarse.
Jason tilts his head, feigning curiosity. “Friends.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. Like he hasn’t just torn our world apart. “Associates.” His eyes darken. “People who are very interested in making sure you and the girls stay put.”
Ella presses closer to me, burying her face in my stomach. Emma grips my hand.
He’s got an army. We have nothing.
Panic slams into me like a freight train. The safehouse, the security measures, the three men protecting us—it was all for nothing. We were never safe.
Jason crouches in front of me, tilting his head as he studies my face. “What’s wrong, Mia? You can tell me, we're still married after all”
My stomach curdles. Not by choice. He never signed the divorce papers.
I glare at him. Don’t let him see the fear. Don’t let him win.
He chuckles, amused. “Relax, sweetheart. No one’s gonna hurt you. Not unless you give me a reason.” His gaze flickers to the twins, lingering just long enough to make my blood run cold. “And I’d really hate for you to give me a reason.”
I force myself to breathe, to keep my hands steady as I stroke Emma’s hair.
My stomach churns as I step into the room. Pink walls. White curtains. Exactly like my childhood bedroom. Like the place I once called home before Jason turned it into a cage.