Echo (Black Lotus #2)(71)

And now, I fly around my hotel suite, shoving my clothes into my suitcase at the same time I wait impatiently for Lachlan to answer my call.

“Where the f*ck is Elizabeth?” I bark when he answers.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“She’s gone. I need a plane. Now!”

“Slow down, McKinnon,” he says. “What’s going on?”

Blood courses erratically, like a raging stampede inside of me. Zipping up the luggage, I answer, “Someone’s taken her.”

“Are you sure?” he says in surprise.

“Yes, I’m f*cking sure! I need a plane five minutes ago. Make it happen and call me back.”

I don’t waste time arranging for a driver, instead rushing down to the lobby and grabbing the first cab I see.

“Biggin Hill Airport,” I tell the driver.

“You okay, sir?”

“Get me there as fast as you can.”

He nods without further question as I wait impatiently for Lachlan’s call, but all I can hear are her screams as they play over and over in my head. So many times I’ve wanted to inflict a pain so brutal to induce that type of reaction, but knowing her torture is outside of my control has my heart racing to protect her. It’s a twisted thought, but if anyone is going to hurt her, it’s going to be me.

I think of all the people who would choose to use her to get to me, and I’m drawing blanks. Truth is, I don’t know the people she surrounds herself with, if any at all. But this person, whoever it is, was targeting her and knew just where to find her.

Logging back into the security cameras from my phone, I click through the rooms looking for any kind of clue I can because I don’t know what else to do in this moment. When I check the camera that looks over the drive, I see my car that’s missing from the garage. She must have been taken from the house if the car is there, but how? Why would she let anyone in the gate?

The phone rings, and I quickly answer. “Did you get it?”

“Yes. The plane will be ready to go in half an hour.”

“Good.”

“What can I do?”

“Have you seen her or spoken to her since I left yesterday?” I ask.

“No. I’ve been home.”

“They want money,” I tell him.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. After you gave me her cell number, I called, but she didn’t answer. I dialed the number a few times, and then a man answered. I could hear Elizabeth in the background.”

“What did he say?”

“That we each hold something of value to the other. That he will let her go when I wire money into an offshore account.”

“How much?”

“Enough to destroy either my foundation or my business.”

“What are you gonna do?”

And when he asks, my answer comes easily and without second thought. “I’ll do anything to make sure she’s safe.”

Once the words are spoken, I catch myself in a revelation I wasn’t expecting to come to so effortlessly. I hang up with Lachlan and attempt to convince myself that I shouldn’t be wanting this. That I should just turn a blind eye to her and let this situation work itself out. She’ll be destroyed, and in return, I won’t ever have to deal with Elizabeth again. Because if this man owns up to the promise he made on the phone, he’ll kill her if he doesn’t get his money. And then the book will be closed, and I can move on.

But I can’t do that.

I can’t turn away.

Taking the laptop from my briefcase, I log into the security cameras again. This time, to backtrack the footage that was recorded. I load the camera that monitors the gate to get a timestamp on when any cars arrived. It takes a while, but soon, two cars approach, my roadster being one of them. I watch closely and switch cameras when they pull up to the front of the house.

An older man, around the same age as my father, emerges from the one car. They speak and then head inside. I switch cameras again when they walk through the house and down to the library. She grows irritated, and I wish for the life of me there was audio on these cameras.

They sit and talk before the man turns angry, lurching off the couch, moving towards Elizabeth. And what happens next drains all warmth from my bones. I lean in toward the screen while I watch this unknown bastard take a gun out of his suit jacket and aim it right at her face. Her hands are white-knuckled to the chair as he then presses the barrel against her forehead.

Every cell in my body fills with a storm of tumult as I watch my world spin more and more out of control. I watch helplessly when he pistol-whips the side of her head, sending her flying to the floor. They exchange more words, she stands, he slams the gun into the side of her head again, this time, knocking her unconscious. He then goes out to his car and returns to duct tape her lifeless body, binding her ankles and wrists. Anger explodes, erupting in an outburst of seething fire when he hunches over her and spits in her face. Once he’s dragged her out of the house and tossed her into the trunk of his car, I slam the computer shut.

My breaths come heavy, loaded with guilt, fury, and an undeniable urge for vengeance.

I want to kill that motherf*cker.

“Drive faster, God dammit!” I bark at the driver.

Raking my hands through my hair, I can feel my body shuddering in emotions I need to get in check before I lose all the temperance necessary to keep my shit together. As we continue to drive and the mania begins to dissipate a little, I’m reminded of all the ways this woman has sent my life into an upheaval of disarray—her cunning hypocrisy, her ugly spitefulness hidden underneath her shiny exterior, and the blood that will everlast on my hands because of her malicious and selfish vendetta.