Page 52 of Rogue Survivor
Veronica shrinks against the bars when the cop saunters in, and if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to rip his balls off and shove them down his throat.
“Can we kill them now?” Milton asks.
“No. You and Archer are taking the bitch to her house. Check in every ten minutes.” Leaning closer to Isabel, Boswell flicks the blade along her jaw, and she hisses in pain. “If you tryanything, I’ll start carving pieces off little Mitzi one at a time.”
“I won’t,” Isabel whispers. “But I need to hug my daughter first. And Connor.”
Milton unlocks Isabel’s handcuffs and Boswell yanks her to her feet. “You ask for nothing.I’min charge here.” He shoves her at Archer, who twists her right arm behind her back until she cries out. “Take her. And send Luke in here with Mr. FBI’s cell phone. I want to make sure he doesn’t have any new messages from that Ranger.”
Isabel tries to lunge for her daughter, but Archer muscles her out of the vault as Veronica cries, “Mom! Don’t go!”
A man in a fucking suit stops right in front of Isabel, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry, babe. It wasn’t my idea to go after Veronica. She just…got in the way.”
Isabel doesn’t stop cursing him until one of the cops—Milton, I think—tells her she can shut up or he’ll make her.
As Luke saunters in, a flash of memory fans the rage burning like a wildfire inside of me. This smug bastard is her coworker. And he’s the one who shot me.
Isabel
Two feet from the door, Milton jams his gun against my ribs hard enough to make me gasp. “This ain’t like the mall. Still some folks passin’ by this time of night. You make a peep and Reggie’s gonna hear about it. The car’s less than thirty feet away, and you and I are gettin’ in the back, all nice and cozy like we’re inlove.”
“No one’s going to believe that,” I mutter.
“Sure they will.” Milton shoves the gun into his jacket and drapes his arm around my shoulders. His breath reeks of stale coffee, and my stomach pitches. “Smile, sweet cheeks.”
I can’t, but at least I manage not to cry as we walk—calm as can be—to a dark brown sedan. Archer opens the back door, then crowds against me while Milton slides in first. “Back off, asshole,” I snap. “You have my daughter. I can’t save her, but you can be damn sure I’m gonna do anything I can to make her death as painless as possible.”
He shoves me, and I end up sprawled across Milton’s lap. Disgusting. The door slams shut, and I scramble upright and fasten my seat belt like some kind of shield.
If I misunderstood Connor, Reggie is going to make us all suffer. How the hell is Zephyr going to find us? Even if she does, there’s no way she’ll be fast enough. Milton elbows me in the side when I try to get my bearings and search for a cross street, so I keep my head bowed, flicking my gaze to the clock on the dashboard at regular intervals.
If I’m lucky, I’ll have two chances to get a message to Zephyr. The doorbell camera video—where I have to tell her to call my house and pretend to be my security company—and the all-too-brief phone call. There’s no way these two apes will leave me alone for either one, so whatever I tell her can’t be…obvious. Is there any way I can let her know we’re being held in a bank? There can’t be that many abandoned vaults in Austin.
Think, Isabel. There has to besomethingyou could say.
My inner voice fights me the whole trip, and with every turn, every stop light, every street we pass, I lose more of the scant hope Connor gave me.
After exactly ten minutes, Milton texts Reggie, and at eighteen, Archer pulls into my driveway.
Dangling my keys in front of me, Milton grins. “Remember, sweet cheeks. We’re in love.”
“You disgust me.” I snatch the keys out of his hand and shove them into my pocket as Archer opens the back door. “Y’all keep your damn hands to yourselves.” I’m out of the car and up the steps before either of them can touch me, my right sleeve tugged up enough my bloody wrist should be visible on the doorbell camera. With any luck, the crimson staining my shoulder will register too.
“I have to disarm the security system,” I say, letting my hand shake so much, I have trouble getting the key into the lock. “The company will probably call in under five minutes. The landline is in the kitchen. When it rings,Ineed to be the one to answer it. They’re gonna ask me to confirm there’s no emergency and I’ll have to give them my codeword.”
Milton elbows me out of the way, takes the keys, and opens the door. “Try anything, bitch, and—”
“Iknow,”I say, staring right into the doorbell camera. “Reggie will hurt Veronica. And Mitzi. And Connor. You don’t have to keep reminding me we’re all gonna die. You think I could forget that? Her tablet with the video of you and Reggie is in her room.”
Despite how terrified I am, how much I wish I were with Veronica right now, I move calmly to the security system’s keypad and punch in my ten-digit code.
Archer heads down the hall to Veronica’s room while Milton—after he texts Reggie—wraps his fingers around my bicep and steers me into the kitchen. I’m about to tell him to let me go when the phone rings and I stifle my yelp.
“I’m listenin’ in,” Milton growls, right in my ear.
Shit. Please, Zephyr. Don’t go off script.
“Hello?”
