Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Dean curses softly. “Right. I’m getting a team ready. We’ll meet you there. Orion… be careful.”
“Yeah,” I reply, voice strained. My heart thumps as I blow through a yellow light, pressing the accelerator. “I’m not letting anything happen to her.”
I hang up, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Hold on, Briar. I push the gas pedal harder, weaving through late-night traffic. The photograph rests on the console next to me, the torn edges a glaring reminder of how close I came to missing that crucial hint. If Briar’s at the zoo, facing down a man she suspects of being in league with Jason, she’s in more danger than ever. And I won’t let her face it alone.
Chapter 23
Briar
I’m crammed into the back seat, my wrists aching from the rough cords biting into my skin. Moments after they abducted me, they’d pulled over to bind my wrists together. Every bump in the road makes me lurch sideways, shoulders bashing into the door. I’d give anything for one sliver of comfort, but there’s none here. Just me, a swirl of dread in my stomach, and the two men in the front seats who won’t answer a single one of my questions.
Heath is driving. Heath, the new bird trainer who showed up at the zoo not long ago, wearing that ridiculous tweed jacket. Does he even know a thing about birds? I can just see the back of his head, slightly turned so he can keep an eye on me in the rearview. Next to him, in the passenger seat, is Jason—my ex-boyfriend turned nightmare, the man I tried so hard to escape. It’s strange seeing them together, an unholy alliance I never saw coming.
My heart pounds so hard my ribs feel bruised. The engine hums underneath us, and the headlights cast fleeting shapes across the deserted highway, but it’s pitch-black out here, wherever here is. I can’t see any signs, no exit ramps, no gas stations—nothing.
“Where are we going?” My voice sounds surprisingly steady, considering my pulse is a frantic drumroll in my ears. Neither Heath nor Jason responds. They just keep whispering to each other, the low murmur of their voices drowned out by the car’s rumble. I struggle against my bindings, hissing at the sting. “Hello?” I shout, louder this time. “Heath! Jason! Where are you taking me?”
Heath throws me a glance in the mirror, but he remains silent. Jason turns around in his seat, and for half a second, the moonlight glowing in through the windshield catches the cruel twist of his smile. Then he faces front again, ignoring me. I bite my lip, frustration and fear mingling in my chest.
Why did I leave? The thought replays like a broken record in my head. I picture Orion’s place—safe, warm, with Jeb dozing in his cage. And Orion himself, determined and protective, a man who would have moved mountains to keep me from danger. But he lied to me, the bitter voice inside me reminds. He said he didn’t have feelings for me. Only now, trapped in this car, do I realize how foolish I was to let that overshadow the real threat. Now I’m paying the price.
The car jostles as Heath maneuvers onto a gravel road. I jolt upright, my wrists chafing painfully, and blink to clear my vision. The headlights sweep across a vast emptiness: weeds, broken fences, the outline of dilapidated buildings. My stomach churns. This place looks like it’s been abandoned for decades.
After what feels like hours of creeping through the darkness, the car finally comes to a stop in front of a large, decaying structure. The headlights reveal warped metal siding, graffiti scrawled across the entrance. An abandoned warehouse, from the look of it. A chill seeps through my veins as Heath cuts the engine, plunging us into a suffocating quiet.
“Out,” Jason orders, turning to me with a sneer. Heath steps out first, slamming the driver’s door, while Jason swings open the back door on my side. I recoil, pressing myself against the opposite seat, but there’s nowhere to run. His hand snaps forward, grabbing my arm so hard I yelp in pain.
“Let me go!” I twist, thrashing, but it’s no use. My arms are bound, my legs are free but useless without a clear path. He yanks me from the car with a force that almost wrenches my shoulder. My feet hit the gravel, and I struggle to regain balance, wincing at the biting chill of the night air.
Heath stands off to the side, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his mouth. This version of him is so different from the polite, poised trainer I met at the zoo. He was always too smooth, I think, remembering how Marcie lapped up his credentials without questioning. Now, he radiates smug confidence, like a cat that’s caught a mouse.