Chapter 1
The November wind bit my cheeks as I stepped toward my car.
My driver held the back door open, white gloves crisp against the black leather.
I was halfway there when a small hand clamped around my forearm.
I froze.
I turned to find a little girl staring up at me.
She couldn’t have been more than nine.
Her gray school sweater was frayed at the cuffs, braids slipping loose, face so pale it looked like she’d seen a ghost.
I’d never laid eyes on her before.
I tugged my arm gently, confused.
“Hey there, honey. Are you lost?”
She didn’t answer.
She just shook her head so hard her braids whipped her cheeks.
Her grip tightened.
Her knuckles turned white.
“Don’t get in that car,” she whispered.
Her voice cracked.
I glanced at the driver.
He stood perfectly still, face blank as marble.
Nothing looked out of place.
Everything felt wrong.
I leaned down, keeping my voice soft.
“Why not, kiddo?”
Tears spilled over her lash line, dripping onto my tailored wool sleeve.
“That’s not your real driver,” she breathed.
My stomach dropped straight through my shoes.
Tom, my driver of eight years, had called in sick an hour before.
The office said they’d sent a last-minute replacement from the agency.
I’d thought nothing of it.
The girl darted a frantic look at the oak trees lining my drive.
“They’re watching from the bushes,” she said.
I followed her gaze.
A flash of dark fabric vanished behind the thickest trunk.
My pulse roared in my ears.
“Who sent them?” I asked.
She looked straight at me.
Her small face was deadly serious.
“Your wife.”
The world tilted.
Olivia.
My wife of twelve years.
The woman I’d built every part of my life for.
Before I could speak, my phone buzzed once in my pocket.
I fumbled it out, hands suddenly slick with sweat.
It was a text from Olivia.
The words burned into my retinas.
Get in the car. Or the girl dies before sundown.
I stared at the screen.
My throat closed up.
I couldn’t breathe.
The girl let out a tiny, choked sob.
“I saw them last night,” she whispered. “I live down the street. I was walking my dog. They pushed your real driver into a white van. I hid behind the trash cans. They didn’t see me.”
A cold, burning rage flooded my veins.
It was hotter than any anger I’d ever felt.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
I never took my eyes off the driver.
He hadn’t moved an inch.
But I saw his right hand twitch.
Just once.
Toward the inside of his jacket.
I pulled the girl behind me.
I shielded her small body with mine.
Then I heard it.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Tires on gravel.
I looked over my shoulder.
A second unmarked black sedan was slowing to a stop at the end of my drive.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I had two seconds to make a choice.
Get in the car and die.
May you like
Or run.
And pray I was fast enough for both of us.
