He shifted the backpack hanging off one shoulder, climbed the front porch, pulled back the screen, and knocked. It was ballsy, but he wanted to know what he was up against before he went in, guns blazing.

Seconds ticked by, and no one answered. He knocked again. Waited. When still no one answered, he stepped back off the porch and looked up at the second story.

That fucker in Cleveland had left those women chained in their rooms when he’d gone out. Landon tugged the backpack over his other shoulder, glanced toward the fence, and then made his way around the side of the house.

The possibility that there could be guard dogs flickered through his mind, but he pushed the thought aside and quickly scaled the ten-foot metal fence. Dropping to his feet, he eyed the elaborate combination locking mechanism on the inside, then pulled the SIG from his lower back. Someone definitely wanted to keep something or someone inside this place.

He moved quietly through the backyard. Trees rimmed the lawn, blocking the view from other houses. A patio void of furniture led to three small steps and a back door. One look at the wires in the corner of the window told him there was a security system in place.

Landon glanced toward the upstairs windows, looking for any crack or opening. All the windows looked closed, but that didn’t mean there was no point of entry.

Choosing the closest tree, he climbed until he could access the roof of the garage. Balancing on the steep grade, he made his way across the roof toward the upstairs window he’d targeted below.

Like the door downstairs, there was a magnetic sensor, but it would be triggered only when the window was opened, not broken. Landon tugged on a pair of gloves from the backpack, then pulled out a folded piece of tinfoil he’d brought for this very reason. Using his elbow, he broke the window in the top right corner.

Pain echoed down his arm, but the long-sleeved Henley protected him from the broken glass. After unfolding the tinfoil, he carefully slid it inside the window and down between the magnetic sensors. Confident it was in place, he reached through the hole in the window and flipped the window lock on the top of the pane.

Moment of truth. He pushed the window up and climbed inside.

The small bedroom was empty except for a neatly made bed, a dresser, and a chair. Gun held steady in both hands, he scanned the room and listened. No alarms rang. No footsteps echoed. Moving quickly through the upstairs and finding it quiet, he eased down the stairs and into the kitchen. A glance at the alarm panel by the back door confirmed the system hadn’t been tripped. He turned a slow circle, took in the silent family room and the empty kitchen, and then moved down the hall toward the front of the house.

The place was like a ghost town. No sound, no movement, nothing that indicated anyone had been here in days.

Making a circle through the downstairs rooms, he stopped when he spotted the door beneath the staircase.

He reached out, turned the handle. Found it locked.

Suspicion sent tiny arcs of electricity all down his spine. He holstered his weapon and pulled out his lock pick kit. Minutes later, he pulled the door open and stood staring down a dark, silent staircase.

His adrenaline inched up. He reached back for his weapon again and slowly moved down the first few steps. Wood creaked under his feet. A musty smell hit his nose. The only light came from behind him, spilling down the basement stairs into a pitch-black cavern.

He reached the cement floor. Squinted through the darkness, looking for a light, a switch, anything. Shuffling echoed to his right before he could reach back in his bag and find his flashlight. Heart pounding, he swiveled in that direction and lifted his gun. “Move and you’re dead.”

Something hard slammed into the side of his head.


The shriek burst past Olivia’s lips before she could stop it.

The wooden leg she’d broken off a small table slid against her sweaty palms, but she pulled back, ready to nail the fucker in the head again.

“Son of a bitch.” The man yanked the weapon out of her hand. It clattered against the floor across the room. “Don’t fucking hit me again.”

Olivia scooted as far away from him as the chain would let her go. Bright light burned her eyes, making it hard to see. Her muscles ached, her stomach hurt, and her entire body vibrated with both fear and exhaustion. She couldn’t see the other table legs she’d ripped off that small piece of furniture. Wondered how far away they were and if she could reach them before he came at her. She knew she shouldn’t do anything more to antagonize the men holding her, but she was losing control. Playing scared wasn’t working. It was time to fight back or die.

Kill me. Just do it. Get it over with.

She wanted to scream the words but couldn’t seem to make her lips work. All that came out was another pathetic screech.

“Son of a bitch. No. Don’t. Shit. Shh . . .”

Fabric rustled. The man standing in the spray of light moved closer. Olivia’s terror shot to all new levels. She scrambled for the corner of the room. The chain around her ankle rattled. She looked around for her weapons. All she needed was one. Something . . .

Stay back. Don’t touch me . . .

Do it! Just get it over with and kill me!

Conflicting thoughts battled in her mind. She was losing her slight grasp on sanity. The shadow grew larger, closer. Her hand curled into a tight fist, and she shook her head, searching for that elusive place where they couldn’t touch her, where they couldn’t hurt her, where no matter what they did, they wouldn’t win.

“Olivia, shh . . . I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

She tugged her legs up to her chest. Tightened her other fist. Pain ricocheted all through her body. She’d heard those words before. Had fallen for them one too many times. The screams from the man she’d been talking to through the wall in that other house when they’d dragged him away echoed through her mind.

“Olivia, stop. I’m not going to hurt you. My name’s Landon Miller. I work for a company called Aegis Security. Your sister Eve sent me to find you.”

One word got through. One thought.

Eve.

“That’s right,” he said in a gentler voice. “You know Eve. You remember her. She’s worried about you. She can’t be here right now, but she sent me to get you.”

Olivia stilled, squinted, and tried to see his face. With the light at his back, all she could make out was the silhouette of his body, kneeling close to her.

Trust him. Don’t trust him. It could be a trap. Her frantic mind searched for something solid to latch on to. Eve could have sent him, or he could be another psycho, this one eager to torment her in new, more sadistic ways.

“Look,” he said softly. “All I want to do is get you out of this house and away from these people. But first you have to trust me. Do you think you can trust me, Olivia?”

No. Yes. Olivia wasn’t sure. All she knew for certain was that as bad as her captivity had been so far, at the hands of someone else it could be a thousand times worse.

She was still debating her options when the floorboards creaked above.

“Shit.” The man tilted his head toward the ceiling. Footsteps echoed, and a door somewhere above slammed shut.

Olivia’s heart rate shot up.

“Stay here.” He pushed to his feet and quickly disappeared.

Confused, Olivia drew away from the wall and looked for him, unsure what he was doing. Seconds later he was back, kneeling in front of her again. “We need to get moving.”

He shifted around, tugged something from his back. Olivia tensed. Then he flicked a switch, and a beam of light spread over her dirty, bare feet.

A flashlight. He was holding a flashlight.

“Hold still.” He put the end of the small flashlight in his mouth and tugged something else from his back. Light shone over her butterfly tattoo and the metal cuff around her ankle. A click echoed, and she looked down and watched in surprise as he used a long metal object to pick the lock.

The cuff sprang free. He tucked the lock pick back in his pack and pushed to his feet. He was tall. Really tall. Taller than the others who’d come down here. He held out a hand. “Can you stand?”

Olivia’s heart raced. Indecision warred. She was free. Free for the first time in days. With a complete stranger who might or might not be another psychopath.

“Cellar doors lead to freedom, Olivia. You’re either with me or you’re not. It’ll only be seconds before they find that door upstairs open.”

Freedom. The word sounded elusive. A fable. A fantasy. She looked down at his wide palm, dimly lit from the light near the stairs, and made her choice.

Her hand slid over his. Warmth rushed into her skin. His fingers quickly closed over hers and tightened, holding her in a fierce grip, tugging her to her feet and closer to his broad body.

His chest was huge. His arms thick and muscled beneath the long-sleeved top. And his legs . . . dear God, they were like tree trunks. Panic consumed her. His other hand landed at her waist and slid around her back. The spicy scent of leather and musk filled her nostrils. The air grew thicker the closer she drew to his body, and her heart rate picked up speed.

She’d made the wrong choice. He was one of them. He was going to hurt her. He was going to—

Shouts echoed from above. His head swiveled toward the stairs, and he muttered, “Fucking A.”

Light from the stairs spilled over his profile, and she caught her first glimpse of his face. A nose slightly crooked as if it had been broken once or twice, full lips, a strong chin and sculpted jaw. She couldn’t tell what color his hair was, but his skin was shades lighter than the men who’d been holding her in this prison, and even in the dim light, there was something solid, reassuring, hopeful about him.