26. Henry
Henry
My truck is barely out of the dry cleaner’s parking lot when Emily’s name flashes across my screen, and my chest tightens like a vice.
I slam the brakes, tires screeching as I yank my phone off the dashboard mount. "Emily?"
Silence.
A heartbeat later, a muffled noise—shuffling, maybe—filters through the line. Then nothing.
The call drops.
I stab the redial button. No answer. Again. No answer. Again—
A deep, unsettling chill grips my gut, the kind of instinct that’s kept me alive in warzones, in places where bad men do bad things to people who don’t deserve it.
Emily isn’t answering because she can’t.
I shove the gear into drive and tear down the road toward her house, my foot pressing harder on the gas than it probably should. Every passing second is a fist closing around my throat.
By the time I skid into Emily’s driveway, I already know something is wrong.
Her car isn’t in the driveway.
The front door is slightly ajar, creaking as a breeze pushes it open further.
I pull my gun from the glove compartment, stepping out cautiously. My instincts are screaming, muscles coiled like a live wire as I make my way up the porch and into the house.
“Emily?”
Silence.
The second I step inside, the silence smacks me in the face. A heavy, unnatural kind—the kind that doesn’t belong in a lived-in space. The house feels wrong.
I move fast. Kitchen—empty. Bedroom—empty. Bathroom—empty. Closet—half-empty, which at first doesn’t alarm me because Emily always leaves a mess when she’s running late. Then I notice her bag is still here, right on the dresser. Her phone charger. Her favorite ridiculous pink Crocs.
She hasn’t left voluntarily.
A growl builds in my chest as I rip my phone from my pocket and call her again. Straight to voicemail. A sharp curse rips from my throat as I run a hand through my hair, pacing the small space like a caged animal.
I punch in the Chief’s number next.
The second he answers, I cut in. “Emily’s gone.”
“What?”
“She’s gone, Tom. Her car isn’t here, her door was open, and she’s not answering her phone. I think the fire was a distraction, and we were looking in the wrong direction while someone took her.”
There’s a heavy pause. Then, “Damn it. I’ll check the motel, see if those guys are still there.”
“Hurry.”
I end the call and immediately dial Logan.
My brother-in-law answers on the first ring. “Henry, I—”
“Where’s Dane?”
A beat of silence. “What?”
“Dane, Logan,” I snap. “Where the hell is he?”
Logan exhales sharply. “Checked out of his hotel room two days ago. We haven’t seen him since.”
A slow, seething rage burns through me.
“Did he complete the investment?”
Logan sighs. “How did you know he didn't? The checks bounced. I was hoping to reach him tomorrow to get an explanation.”
That bastard. “You won’t get it.”
“Why?”
I don’t even answer Logan before ending the call and I’m calling Tom again.
The Chief picks up instantly.
“The men at the motel?” I demand.
“Gone,” Tom says grimly. “Eyewitnesses say two men matching their description were spotted near the fire earlier. Alan Mason—the guy who got stabbed? One of my deputies just confirmed he was injured trying to stop those same men from stealing gas at the fire station.”
I grit my teeth. “Damn it, Tom. Dane played us.”
There’s a heavy exhale on the other end. “Yeah, Henry. He did.” A pause. “We’ll find her.”
I don’t answer, just end the call and grip the wheel, my mind racing. I push down the rising panic threatening to consume me.
Think.
Where would they take her? The town is too public. They’d need somewhere remote.
Just then, my phone rings again.
Emily’s number.
I answer instantly. “Emily—”
A low, urgent voice hisses through the receiver. “Walker.”
My blood runs cold. “Who the hell is this?”
“I’m Richard Carter,” the voice whispers. “Emily’s father.”
I freeze.
“What?”
“I was at the house when she was taken and she dialed you and threw phone under the rug. I followed the men,” he rushes on. “They took her. Two men. One she called Dane was with them. I followed in her car.”
My heart slams into my ribs. “Where?”
“I’ll send you a location.”
“Do it now.”
The line crackles. “I think they saw me. I have to—”
The call cuts off.
“Shit.”
A second later, my phone pings. A GPS coordinate. Without hesitating, I dial Tom again.
“I’ve got a location,” I say the second he picks up.
“Send it to me,” he orders.
“I think a full team heading there will spook them.”
Tom exhales. “Henry—”
“I’m not waiting, Tom.”
A pause. “I’ll give you a two minute head start and have backup en route. Try not to get yourself killed before we get there.”
I don’t answer. I end the call, rush outside to my truck to grip the wheel, and floor the gas.
Emily is out there.
And I’m bringing her home.
The GPS signal flickers on my phone screen, the red dot pulsing against the satellite map. I grip the steering wheel tighter, my breath coming in measured exhales as I weave through the backroads leading into the woods.
Hold on, Emily.
I push the truck harder, gravel kicking up behind me as I barrel down the unpaved road. The dense trees ahead swallow the moonlight, casting long shadows that shift like ghosts. My gut clenches as I near the pin on my screen.
The truck’s headlights catch movement—a flicker of something unnatural in the night. I kill the engine and cut the lights, coasting to a silent stop a hundred yards out. The woods are still. Too still.
I grab my gun from the glove compartment and slide out, my boots making no sound against the soft earth. The air is thick with the scent of damp pine, but beneath it, something acrid lingers—gasoline.
I move forward, following the GPS’s faint glow. My pulse hammers against my ribs, my senses razor-sharp. I don’t hear voices, but I know they’re here.
A crunch.
Just ahead, a boot shifts against dried leaves.
Instinct kicks in. I whirl, my gun raised. A shadow lunges at me from behind a tree, a blade flashing.
I duck, sidestepping just as the man swings. His knife slices through empty air, and I drive my fist into his ribs. He grunts, stumbling back. Before he can recover, I grab his wrist and twist—hard. The knife clatters to the ground, and I slam him face-first into a tree.
A second man charges from my left. I pivot, catching his arm mid-swing, twisting it until he cries out. A sharp elbow to his jaw knocks him back, but he’s tougher than the first. He shakes off the hit and comes at me again.
We grapple, his hands clawing for my weapon. I let him think he has the upper hand before wrenching free and slamming my knee into his gut. He doubles over, and I bring my elbow down hard against the back of his skull. He crumples.
Panting, I step back, scanning the area. Richard Carter is tied up against a tree, watching wide-eyed. He’s beaten, blood smeared across his temple, but alive. I crouch, cutting the rope around his wrists.
“Where is she?” My voice is pure gravel.
“The cabin,” he rasps. “Dane’s—he’s going to—”
The sound of fire crackling cuts him off. My head snaps up and a flicker of orange catches my eye.
My stomach drops.
Fire.
It’s coming from the direction of the cabin.
“Son of a bitch,” I grit out.
I turn to Richard Carter. He’s bruised and bloodied, but his eyes are sharp. “Tie them up, cops are on the way,” I order, shoving my zip ties into his hands. “I’m going after Emily.”
He nods, urgency in his gaze. “Go. I’ll handle them.”
I don’t wait. I sprint toward the fire.
Flames lick the walls of the cabin, the old wooden structure already catching fast. Smoke billows into the night sky, thick and suffocating.
I can’t think. Only act.
I charge through the front door, the heat slamming into me like a wall.
“Emily!” I bellow, my eyes darting through the thick smoke.
A cough.
Faint, but there.
I push forward, weaving through the growing blaze.
Then I see her.
She’s tied to a chair, her wrists raw from struggling. Blood smears her temple, her face pale, but she’s alive.
Relief nearly drops me to my knees.
I rush to her side, kneeling as I cut through the ropes.
“Henry…” she rasps, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I’ve got you,” I say, lifting her gently into my arms. “You’re safe.”
She sags against me, her trust absolute.
I push through the smoke, shielding her from falling embers as I kick open the back door and carry her out into the night.
Cool air rushes over us as we stumble onto the clearing. I lower her onto the grass, wrapping my arms around her.
She shivers, but her grip on me tightens.
Sirens wail in the distance.
The sound of crunching footsteps makes me look up.
Dane is running.
The coward is trying to escape through the trees.
Rage surges through me, white-hot.
I stand, gently untangling Emily’s hands from my jacket.
“I’ll be right back,” I murmur.
I stalk after Dane.
He hears me and looks over his shoulder, eyes wild. He skids to a stop, hands raised.
“Now, Henry,” he says, panting. “Let’s not—”
I deck him. He crumples to the ground with a grunt.
I stand over him, my fist clenched, my breathing hard. He groans, rolling onto his side.
“You think you can hurt her and just walk away?” I growl.
“I—”
I don’t let him finish. My boot connects with his ribs, sending him sprawling.
Dane wheezes, coughing. “You’re… insane.”
I squat down, gripping his collar, dragging him up so our faces are inches apart. “You took her. You hurt her.” My voice is dangerously low. “And now, you’re going to pay.”
A sudden burst of light floods the clearing. Flashlights.
“Henry!” Chief Tom’s voice cuts through the night. “Step away from him.”
I hesitate, my grip tightening.
Dane coughs, a weak smirk tugging at his bloodied lips. “Yeah, Henry. Step away like a good little dog.”
My jaw clenches.
Then I shove him back onto the dirt.
Deputies swarm in, slapping cuffs on him as they drag him to his feet.
I exhale, shaking off the fury still pulsing through me.
Then I turn. Emily is standing where I left her, wrapped in a blanket, watching me. Her eyes are glassy, unreadable. For the first time in my life, I don’t hesitate. I stride to her, taking her face in my hands.
“I love you,” I say, the words raw, unfiltered. “I’ve been a damn coward, but almost losing you knocked some sense into me.” I swallow hard, my voice thick. “I choose you, Emily. I was worried about losing you, and it made me hold back, but I don’t think I can survive you walking away.”
Tears slip down her cheeks.
Her hands cup my face, her touch soft, grounding. A sob catches in her throat and her hands tighten in my shirt. “Took you long enough.”
Then she kisses me—fierce, desperate, like she’s breathing me in.
The world disappears.
“I love you too,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “And I’m never letting you lose me.”
The world fades.
Nothing else matters.
I kiss her, fierce and desperate, pouring everything I feel into her.
She kisses me back with the same intensity, her fingers tangling in my hair.
We hold onto each other, the chaos of the night nothing but a distant memory.
For the first time in years, I’m not running.
I’m exactly where I belong.