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“José! We got trouble!” someone calls out.
The amusement on José’s face fades, and he glares at me. “Here’s hoping it’s your boyfriend. I’d love to be the one to finish him off. Toss the old lady down here. She and Dahlia can wait for death together.”
“Let me go!” Hilda yells moments before she’s tossed toward the steps. She barely manages to catch herself as José passes by, so I limp forward and take her wrinkled hand when she reaches the bottom. “You should have stayed quiet, girl.”
Her cheek is bright red, and there’s a little bit of blood on her lip.
“Absolutely not. I won’t let you die for me.”
“They’re going to kill me anyway. The only reason they haven’t is because I know where the will is.”
I stiffen. “You do?”
“I do. And Leon has been trying to buy his way into finding out. He was bound to get tired of asking.”
“Where is it?”
She shakes her head. “Not now. I promised Mr. Prescott I’d keep it safe until I found you. And safe is exactly how it will stay until we get you out of here.”
My attention shifts to the thundering of boots overhead. Ryker. I may not know for certain, but I can feel him. Almost as though we’re connected and he’s tugging at the other end of a string connected to me.
It’s the strangest feeling, but I can’t help but smile.
“What in the world are you smiling about, girl?” Hilda demands.
I turn to her. “I asked God to save me, and He sent me a Tank. Everything’s going to be okay, Hilda.” I grip her hand and squeeze gently. “I know it.”
Chapter 33
Ryker
“Isure hope you know what you’re doing,” Garrison says in my ear. “This is risky, even for you, Tank.”
“I’ll be fine,” I reply. Both of my hands are held up, and the barrel of Presley’s gun is pressed against my spine as we make our way down the long drive of the Prescott estate. Telling him for the hundredth time he shouldn’t have come in with me won’t do any good, so I keep it to myself.
Both his team and mine are stationed all around the house, with Garrison ready to blow every single one of their cars the moment we need a distraction. Right now, I need to know where Dahlia is.
As soon as I have eyes on her…boom.
There are at least two dozen guards—that I can see—stationed on the balcony of the house, and along the front porch. A few more are scattered all over the grounds. Almost as though they knew we were coming.
He would be an idiot to think I wouldn’t come for Dahlia.
He took what’s mine, and now he’ll pay for it in blood.
“Easy, Big Brother,” Presley says. “You have to look at least a little worried.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Work harder.”
José steps out of the house, and it takes every bit of self-control I have to keep from rushing forward and ripping him apart where he stands. In fact, the only reason I don’t is because this house is huge and we have no idea where Dahlia is.
“Well, well, well, what’s this then?” José questions.
“I brought you the other guy you were looking for. Would have been both of them if your team hadn’t ripped her out of my car. Speaking of, you owe me a new SUV.”
José crosses his arms. “You honestly expect me to believe this isn’t a setup? We know your familial relationship with Mr. Granger.” His tone drips with arrogance.
