Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)(81)

She quickly nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely. I’ll tell him.”

“Great. Now, for insurance that this message is delivered in a timely manner, I’m taking Quarry with me.” There was a smile in his voice, but Eliza’s face slid to ghostly white.

“No! I’ll deliver the message. I swear. Just leave him here.”

“Yeah. That’s not going to happen.” He laughed. “I think Till’s going to need a little extra incentive for what I need. We all know how much he loves our little Quarry here,” he said condescendingly.

A rush of relief hit me as the gun was turned away from her and aimed back against my temple.

“Please don’t do this. Just leave him. I’m positive Till will do anything you want. You don’t need Quarry.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I like my plan better.”

I felt him shrug as he began to drag me backwards toward the door. I wasn’t struggling. I was all too willing to go with him if it got him out of that suite and away from her.

“Stop! Wait! Please. I’m Till’s wife. Take me instead!”

“No!” I screamed over her words, but it was too late.

She ran from behind the counter, revealing her pregnant stomach and causing Frankie to gasp.

“Just take me. Leave Quarry alone,” she cried.

“What the f*ck are you doing?” I yelled, but Frankie leveled the gun back on her.

“His wife?” he asked before cackling.

“Please. Just let him go.”

“This just got so much better.”

My entire body went stiff, and Eliza’s eyes grew impossibly wider as he roughly shoved me, sending me scrambling forward. Just as quickly, he grabbed Eliza and dragged her to the door.

“No!” I jumped to my feet. He had no f*cking business even talking to her, but I’d kill him before I let him hurt her. “Get your f*cking hands off her! You’re not taking her anywhere!” I rushed forward.

I heard Eliza screaming with every step, but adrenaline fueled me.

She was ours. I wouldn’t let him have her.

“Oh for f*ck’s sake.” He spun Eliza to the side just as I got close, sending her crashing to the ground.

I landed a blow to his side, but his hand folded around my throat and the cold, metal butt of his gun landed hard against my face. Pain exploded as someone dimmed the lights.

I felt my body crash onto the floor, but I struggled to keep my eyes open. I was vaguely aware of Eliza screaming my name as she fought against his arms.

“No,” I slurred, but my body had betrayed me.

Seconds later, the darkness consumed me completely.



My phone vibrated in my pocket as Slate and I watched Rick’s last fight for at least the hundredth time. I had long since memorized his every nuance in the ring, but I still watched every single second as if it were going to change.

“Hey, pause it.”

A text from an unknown number lit my screen.

Unknown: I believe I have something that belongs to you.

I read the text a few times, trying to let it process, but before I could respond, a picture I would never be able to unsee came through. A vision that, with one glance, was branded into my soul.

It was Eliza. Her mouth was taped and her eyes were pouring tears. She was sitting on the floor of a hotel suite that looked exactly like ours. I could barely make out the round of her stomach as my eyes followed her arm up to a doorknob she was tied to.

Entire dimensions folded upon themselves in that moment.

In less than three seconds, I’d plotted the death of whoever had put her there. That picture could have been the joke I prayed it was, but someone would absolutely pay for the way my chest was caving in as I stared at my phone.

Me: Who the f*ck is this?

I blinked at the phone, desperate for an answer, but my mind finally kicked into gear. There was carpet behind her—carpet I recognized.

I sprinted from the conference room with one destination on my mind.

My legs moved faster than I’d thought possible as I raced to the elevator. The seconds I was forced to wait for it to arrive were the longest of my life. It was only the last rational brain cell I had that forced me to stand there, knowing that it would take longer for me to run up the stairs to the thirty-seventh floor. Just as the doors opened, Slate caught up and stepped in front of me.

His mouth and hands moved angrily, but I couldn’t focus enough to figure out what he was saying. Shoving him out of the way, I frantically pressed the button to our floor and he barely made it inside before the elevator started moving. I was losing my mind trying to speed it up when my phone again buzzed in my hand.

Unknown: Your old friend Frankie Dragon of course.

It was followed by another picture of Eliza with her eyes closed and a booted foot pressed against her stomach.

The world turned in slow motion, but my wrath grew rapidly.

Me: I have no idea what you want, but your life is over.

Him: Mine? Or Hers?

The text was was followed by a photo of a gun tilted to Eliza’s temple. My hand gripped the phone painfully tight.

Slate snapped in front of me to get my attention. “What the f*ck is going on?”

“They took Eliza!” I shouted as the eternal elevator ride ended.

When the doors started to open, I squeezed between them, sprinting to our suite. My shoulder slammed into the door as I twisted the handle, but the door remained in place. I patted my pockets down, suddenly realizing I didn’t even have my keycard to open it. I was in absolute hell. She was in there, with a gun to her head, and I was stuck on the other side of a f*cking door.