Claimed by Jay Bird

Prologue

Three Years Ago

Willow tucked her chin deeper into the collar of her jacket as she followed the familiar path through Central Park, her sneakers hitting the pavement in an easy rhythm while the city surrounding the park slowly began to wake.

It was still dark, that strange hour of the morning when New York seemed almost peaceful, something Willow knew wouldn’t last much longer.

In another hour, the sidewalks would be packed, horns would be blaring, and millions of people would be rushing somewhere they were already convinced they were late getting to.

But right now, it was quiet. Exactly the way she liked it.

She had made this walk every morning for the past two years.

Her father had been the one to get her started, constantly reminding her that fresh air and exercise were cheaper than therapy.

She had always countered that therapy probably came with coffee and a comfortable chair, but she had kept up the routine even after he had passed away.

This morning, though, it wasn’t helping. Something felt off.

She had felt that way from the moment she had woken up, and no matter how many times she had told herself she was being ridiculous, she couldn’t shake the uneasiness that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

It was about Mia.

Willow pulled her phone from her pocket again, even though she already knew what she would find. There was nothing—no missed calls, no texts, and no explanation waiting for her.

“Where the hell are you, Mia?” she murmured.

She and Mia Chambers were supposed to meet for drinks after work last night. Mia worked with her at the veterinary clinic, and while they had originally made plans because they hadn’t had a chance to hang out in a while, Willow needed to talk to her about something she had stumbled across at work.

It had started with a misplaced patient file and a locked cabinet in Dr. Walters’s office that he had apparently forgotten to lock.

Willow hadn’t gone snooping. At least, that wasn’t how she had intended it.

But she had seen several shipping documents mixed in with vaccination records, and curiosity had gotten the better of her.

What she had found hadn’t made sense.

The clinic occasionally handled paperwork for breeders and rescue organizations, so the health certificates themselves weren’t unusual. It was the discrepancies that raised her eyebrows.

Some dates didn’t match. Vaccinations supposedly administered at their clinic that Willow couldn’t find in the patient records. Puppies listed as being several months older than they actually were. The more Willow looked, the worse it got.

By the time she had left Dr. Walters’s office, she’d had the sickening suspicion that the man she had worked for, and trusted, for the past six or seven months might be involved in something illegal.

She needed someone else to review what she had discovered before she did something stupid, like accuse her boss of running an international puppy-smuggling operation.

So, she had spoken with Mia earlier in the day, and they had planned to meet for drinks at seven. She had even given Mia a copy of the documents.

Willow had shown up early, as she always did, arriving at six forty-five and settling into a booth to wait.

At seven fifteen she had sent a text, trying to keep things light.

At seven thirty she had called, telling herself there was probably a simple explanation.

By eight, that uneasy knot in her stomach had tightened into something sharper, giving way to concern she couldn’t quite shake.

Mia never showed, and calls and texts went unanswered. And now, the next morning, there was still nothing.

Willow slipped her phone back into her pocket and picked up her pace, thinking of reasons why Mia didn’t show. Maybe she had gotten sick. Maybe she had fallen asleep and forgotten to set an alarm. Maybe her phone had died or gotten lost somewhere between work and home.

There were a dozen perfectly reasonable explanations, and she had cycled through every damn one of them.

None of them made her feel any better, especially because Mia just wasn’t the kind of person who would disappear without a word.

Plus, she was supposed to be heading to Virginia Beach to spend Thanksgiving with her family.

Willow rounded the next bend in the path and glanced toward the trees, slowing as it hit her for the first time that morning just how alone she really was.

Usually, other early risers were around, like joggers and dog walkers. There was also the occasional cyclist who acted as if they were qualifying for the Tour de France instead of navigating Central Park before sunrise.

A prickling sensation crawled over the back of her neck, and she glanced over her shoulder, but there was nothing there.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she whispered, and started walking again.

Twenty more minutes and she would be home. Then she would shower, grab some coffee, and head to the clinic early. If she still hadn’t heard from Mia by then, she would swing by her apartment before work.

A sound came from somewhere behind her, and Willow stopped short, her heart thumping hard in her chest.

She turned, searching the darkness beyond the glow of the nearest lamp post.

She stared for another second, then slowly shook her head as if trying to clear the unease building in her chest. This was New York City.

Eight million people lived in this city.

She wasn’t alone out here. She knew that.

And yet, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, the silence around her suddenly felt strange.

She pulled out her phone as a precaution. As her dad would always tell her, “Better to be safe than sorry.”

She had barely taken two steps when something slammed into her from behind. A scream tore out of her as she slammed into the ground, pain exploding through her shoulder on impact while her phone slipped from her grasp and skidded across the pavement.

Willow twisted, kicking blindly as someone grabbed her. She connected with something solid.

A man cursed.

“Get off me!” she screamed, clawing at the hand gripping her jacket as she tried to scramble away. But another set of hands caught her legs.

Two of them! Oh, God!

“Help!” Willow screamed. “Somebody help me!”

“Shut her the fuck up before somebody hears and comes looking,” a deep voice said.

A hand slammed over her mouth, cutting off her scream before it could fully form. Willow reacted on instinct, biting down as hard as she could. The man swore and jerked his hand away.

She sucked in a desperate breath, trying to scream again, but she never got the chance because something sharp pierced the side of her neck, the shock stealing her voice instantly.

“What did you—” Her words slurred, and a strange heaviness spread through her body quickly.

She tried to push herself up, but her arms wouldn’t respond the way she needed them to, no matter how hard she tried to move them. Panic surged through her, stealing the last bit of control she had left.

She tried again, but nothing.

The trees above her began to blur as her vision wavered, and the men’s voices sounded distant and muffled, like she was sinking underwater.

Her eyelids grew heavier as the world around her began to fade. She fought to keep them open, desperately trying to hold on to consciousness as strong hands lifted her from the ground.

Someone had to have heard her cries for help. She tried to think, but within seconds the darkness swallowed her.

When Willow opened her eyes again, she had no idea where she was, how long she had been unconscious, or what had happened to her after those men carried her away.

She only knew one thing. She had woken up in hell.