I hesitate, then answer. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Sullivan,” says the last voice I expected to hear. “This is Deputy Colton. We need to talk.”
I straighten up suddenly alert. “What do you want?”
“I figured you’d want to know your wife walked into a gas station on Highway 87 about three hours ago and called the police.”
The words don’t make sense. I stare blankly at the wall opposite me, trying to process what he’s saying. “What did you just say?”
Colton’s sigh crackles through the connection. “Your wife is alive, Sullivan. She was found at a gas station near Roundup. Said she’d been kidnapped and held for nearly a week before being released. She’s at County Memorial now, getting checked out.”
My heart slams against my ribs. Alive. Kayla is alive. The relief is so intense I can barely breathe through it. “Is she—is she hurt?” I manage to ask, my voice barely working.
“Doctors are still with her, but preliminary assessment is that she’s in good health. Exhausted, some bruising, obviously traumatized, but no major injuries.” There’s a pause. “The information she’s given us does seem to clear you of involvement in her disappearance.” That last part comes out grudgingly.
I barely register this. Kayla is alive. She’s at the hospital. She’s safe.
“However,” Colton continues, “I do have some follow-up questions about the activities of your club based on information Mrs. Sullivan provided.”
A new thought cuts through my relief. Kayla called the police. Not me.
“Sullivan? You still there?” Colton’s voice sounds distant, unimportant.
My wife was released, and she went to the authorities instead of calling me.
“Sullivan!” Colton’s voice is sharper now. “I asked you when you last had contact with Kit Bryant.”
I blink, forcing myself back to the conversation. “I need to get to my wife,” I say, ignoring his question.
“We’re not done here—”
“Yes, we are.” I end the call and shove the phone back in my pocket, already on my feet.
Dragon is watching me from across the room, his expression curious. He excuses himself from the men he’s been speaking with and approaches me.
“Something’s happened,” he says, not a question.
I nod, still trying to process the rush of emotions: relief, joy, confusion, hurt. “Kayla’s alive.” The words feel strange in my mouth, almost foreign after days of believing otherwise. “Demon let her go. She’s at County Memorial.”
Dragon’s eyebrows lift slightly, the only indication of his surprise. “He let her go,” he repeats thoughtfully. “Interesting.”
“Interesting?” I echo, anger flaring. “What the hell does that mean?”
Dragon shakes his head. “I just wonder what game Kit is playing now.”
“This isn’t a game,” I snap. “This is my wife.”
“Everything is a game to my brother,” Dragon replies, his voice level. “And he never makes a move without a reason.” He studies my face. “Did she contact you?”
The question hits too close to the raw spot in my chest. “No,” I admit. “She called the police.”
Dragon nods as if this confirms something he already suspected. “Go to her,” he says. “But Roman… Kit didn’t let her go out of the goodness of his heart.”
I’m already moving toward the door, too focused on getting to Kayla to worry about Demon’s motivations. “I need to see her.”
“I’ll come with you,” Dragon says, falling into step beside me.
I don’t argue. Part of me wants to go alone, to have privacy for whatever comes next. But a larger part is grateful for the company, for not having to face this next chapter completely alone.