I stared at my wrists.
The rope was frayed and loosened slightly.If I kept working at it, I could get out of it.
Then what?
Even if I got free, the door was blocked.The windows were boarded.
I’d still be trapped.
If I could pry a board loose from the window just enough to see out, it would help.I didn’t know what would be waiting for me outside if I did manage to get out, so just knowing what was out there could help.
I could maybe use the scissors to work on the boards.
I lifted my bound hands and stared at the frayed rope.
I forced myself to breathe.I was coming up with a plan, and I was going to get out of here.
Chapter Four
Ender
Two days felt like a lifetime when you measured it in missing hours.
The first day had been motion.Tires on asphalt, wind in my face, my eyes combing every ditch, driveway, and pull-off like Clove might be sitting there waiting, tied up and furious, ready to tell me I was an idiot for thinking she’d ever disappear on her own.
The second day had been worse.
Because the adrenaline didn’t hit as clean.It didn’t burn as bright.It turned thick and heavy like tar.
I hadn’t slept.
Not really.
I’d closed my eyes a few times leaning against the bar or sitting on my bike, but every time I drifted even a fraction, my brain dragged me back with the same image.
Clove.
I drummed my fingers on the table waiting for church to start.
Clove should’ve been here.
Not in church, she didn’t sit in on club business, but in the building.In the background.Somewhere close enough that you could turn your head and see her passing down the hallway, her hair pulled up, her face calm, her eyes watchful.
She wasn’t.
That absence sat on my chest like a weight.
Wrecker took his place at the front.He didn’t look tired, but I could see it anyway—the tightness around his eyes, the tension in his jaw.He carried the club the way he always did, steady and unshakable, but even presidents weren’t immune to the kind of pressure that came from a missing girl tied to their club.
He scanned the room once, gaze sharp, then spoke.“Two days,” he said.“No contact.No ransom.No demands.”
Silence answered him.
I stood near the side wall with my arms crossed.
Kingston leaned against the wall not far from me, his posture casual but his eyes too alert to be relaxed.
Freak stood on the opposite side.