Chapter 10
I turn onto the next street off the main drag through Echo Valley. The GPS tells me I’ve arrived, then goes quiet before I’m ready for it.
No arrival notice. No marker settling over a house or a driveway.
Just… road.
I ease off the accelerator, scanning ahead as the car rolls forward.
The address leads me to a wall.
White stucco stretches alongside the road, tall and continuous, broken only by evenly spaced lights that cast an amber glow across its surface. The illumination is deliberate and controlled. It’s enough to be seen. Not enough to see beyond.
A few streetlights line the road, spaced far enough apart that the darkness between them feels alive with something that’s watching. Like the space under my bed when I was five.
I follow the wall, more slowly now.
“This is it?” I murmur.
Tina shifts beside me, her nose brushing the glass.
There’s nothing else here. No neighboring properties. No hint of a house behind the wall.
But I know it. This is his wall.
I keep moving, eyes tracking every detail—the height of the stucco, the spacing of the lights, the lack of any visible access point.
Then the wall breaks.
A wrought iron gate cuts into it, wide, tall and ornate. It’s anchored by a small gatehouse set just beside—light spills from the windows, pooling across the ground. Two armed guards stand outside.
My grip tightens on the wheel.
“Oh, that’s great,” I breathe.
Tina lets out a soft whine.
“Just stay cool, pup.”
I guide the car past the entrance at a steady pace, gaze fixed forward, posture loose, as if I belong on this road. Like I’ve done this a hundred times. I have no idea who casually belongs on this road, but tonight, it’s me.
My pulse climbs with every foot of tarmac, anticipating the guards rolling up on me.
I only breathe when the gate slips out of view.
Up ahead, one of the wall lights has burned out, leaving a stretch of road in shadow. I pull into it and cut the engine.
Silence settles in fast. I glance over at the wall, tall and impenetrable.
Yeah. That tracks for Rio.
There has to be another way in other than the gate.
I take out my cell and expand the map to see where this road leads. It’s a dead end a few hundred more feet ahead. I change to satellite view. The wall stops not too far from here, where it hits a small cluster of trees.
Maybe I can get through there.
I drive until I hit the end, where thankfully, it’s even darker than where I parked earlier. I switch on my phone’s flashlight. It’s too dark out here.
I reach into the back seat and grab Tina’s doggie backpack carrier. I can’t leave her here, or she’ll start barking and pee all over my seats in panic.
“Come,” I say quietly.
Tina climbs in, settling into the cushioned space, and I zip it up. Her head pokes out the side window, alert, curious.
“Quiet,” I tell her, lowering my voice. “Shhh.”
She tilts her head to the side. I scratch behind her ear. I grab a few treats from the center console and slip them into the carrier. Instantly, she heads inside the backpack to retrieve them.
I swing the bag onto my shoulders and step out of the car, easing the door shut with controlled pressure until it clicks into place.
The air feels cooler out here. Sharper. My every sense is on edge.
I’ve never spent time in the country. Before my mom got sick, we stuck to cities and seaside towns for vacations. Never anywhere like this.
I swear to God, I read a fairy tale about a place like this, and it didn’t end well.
I stick to the shadowed areas until I hit the edge of the trees that line a post and rail fence. I hoist myself up, careful not to throw off my balance with Tina on my back, and drop over the fence. My boots hit the forest floor with a snap. Twigs litter the ground, crunching under every step.
What if there are coyotes in here?
I make my way slowly through the brush, my phone light barely cutting through the dark. An owl hoots and scares the shit out of me. Shards of moonlight pass through the treetops, casting the occasional spotlight on my trail.
Ahead, the trees thin and moonlight spills across the ground. I can’t be far from the ranch now. Shit, I should have gotten the lay of the land before I came through the back way.
I open Maps again, or try to, but the image is half blank now.
“No,” I groan, lifting my phone, as if my arm is an antenna. “Shit. No signal.”
This just got worse.
I look around at what might as well be a labyrinth with no way out. Nothing about this seems like a good idea anymore.
And what if Rio has guard dogs or something wandering the ranch?
I’m good with dogs. I could handle one. I could. I swear.
But they’ll bark.
Despite my thundering heartbeat, I’m so committed to finding that asshole and getting him to help me that my feet keep moving. And that’s when I see a red light blinking.
A CCTV camera flickers above me, tucked into the edge of the canopy.
I kill the flashlight.
Those guards at the gatehouse might see me out here.
I need to get to Rio. Fast.
I move more swiftly now, only a few more steps until I reach the edge where my night vision will improve in the bright moonlight. Brush crunches beneath me. I jog lightly. Tina whines in the backpack.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
A few more steps to getting out of this godforsaken forest…
And then… a hand clamps down on my shoulder.
I suck in a sharp breath, my lungs locking tight.
The hand lets go, but when I spin, there’s a guard, dressed like the ones at the gate, with a gun pointed right at me.
The corner of his mouth kicks up, not cruel, but not kind either. “Well, you’re not the typical catch of the day.”