His thoughts were a whirlwind—spinning around him, impossible to grab hold of for more than a second.

Lola had been kidnapped.

He had almost had sex with her brother.

Esai was here.

There was a gun in his hand.

No—now it was a phone.

Esai knew his secret.

Lola had been kidnapped.

"Phantom? What's going on?"

Nathan's voice was a lifeline. He grabbed hold of it and let it pull him out of the storm.

"Lola... They shoved her into a white van. We tried to follow them, but..." His gaze dropped. To the battered face of the guy responsible.

The man looked familiar. He couldn't place the name, but he remembered how cold Lola had been toward him.

"Her ex."

"What? Brandon? Why would he kidnap her?"

Rage flared suddenly in Phantom's chest. He rubbed his fist over the man's split skin, making him groan.

Pathetic coward.

"Well?" Phantom snapped. "Why did you take her?"

"The cops, Phantom," Esai cut in sharply. "Let them go after her first. Instead of wasting time on us."

He was right. Phantom cursed himself for being so slow. "You need to call the police, Nathan. I'll tell you what I know as soon as I get this asshole talking."

"Okay," came the soft reply. Dazed, almost. "I'll call. Which way did they go?"

"Right, from the end of the driveway." At least, Phantom assumed so—that's the direction they'd headed.

Nathan confirmed and hung up.

Phantom turned to their prisoner. He was slumped sideways on the backseat, legs tucked awkwardly. Esai's gun stayed trained on his face without mercy.

The headlights were off. The house they were parked near was dark, giving them barely any light to work with. Phantom listened instead—to Brandon's ragged breaths. He couldn't tell whether it was fear or the pain from being smashed by a car door.

"You better start talking," Esai said, tapping the back of the gun against the headrest. "I just found out Phantom likes shoving things up people's asses. Bet he'd love to use this gun as a butt plug. Beats slicing open your throat, huh?"

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you've thought that one through before."

A grin slid across Esai's face, but he didn't reply.

"I'll give you ten seconds," Phantom told Brandon. Hell, if it brought Lola back, he'd do it. After how they'd left things, he'd do just about anything.

When the man stayed silent, Phantom reached into his jacket and pulled out a pocket knife. He flipped it open, grabbed a fistful of the man's pants, and drove the blade straight through the fabric.

"What the hell are you doing!" the man shouted, scrambling backward—but there was nowhere to go.

"That was your final warning."

"What do you want, man? You wanna know where Lola is? Doesn't matter, man. You're already too late."

"Where are they taking her?"

"Nowhere! She—" His sentence turned into a scream as Phantom pushed the knife forward.

He felt resistance—and judging by the scream, it wasn't just fabric he cut through.

"I am cooperating!"

"You're not saying anything useful."

"She's as good as dead!"

Phantom's grip tightened on the knife. "What do you think—can I shove that gun in your ass all at once, or should we warm you up first? Bit of slicing here and there?"

"You fucking psychos!"

Esai chuckled. "Never thought I'd see the day I'd actually like you, rookie."

Phantom didn't want to feel proud. Not because this asshole thought it was fun he threatened to slice someone open. But still—it lit that spark inside him again.

That spark that wanted to find Lola. No matter the cost.

"I'm not the one who threw my ex into a van." Phantom rose. The threat in his voice was sharp now. "So I'll ask one last time: what do you know?"

"It's all a political game. A terrible tragedy to win voter sympathy."

"Because his daughter got kidnapped?"

He shook his head. Tears shimmered in his eyes now. "No. Because his daughter gets murdered."

"You're saying her father is behind this?"

"Let me go, man. I told you what you wanted!"

"Her father wants her gone?? I—I need to..." He let go of the knife and instinctively reached for his phone. He had to call Nathan. Maybe her father would back down if he knew they were onto him.

Just as he tapped Nathan's name, Brandon lunged.

Something sharp stabbed into Phantom's shoulder and he screamed from the pain.

His own knife.

Brandon yanked it out and slashed at his throat. Phantom raised his arm to block the blow.

A second later, the deafening sound of a gunshot tore through the car.

Then everything went silent.

Phantom heard nothing but a ringing in his ears.

The body beside him collapsed in a heap. Part of the man's head was gone. Chunks of blood and something far worse coated his face, his clothes, and splattered the windows.

Brandon was dead.

Esai lowered the gun. His expression was grim. His lips moved—probably cursing—but Phantom couldn't hear anything over the piercing ring.

Automatically, Phantom wiped the gore from his face with his sleeve. His eyes fell to the phone.

Nathan. I need to call Nathan.

He shoved the body aside and tried again.

The car started moving. Of course it did—someone must've heard the shot. And now there was a corpse in the back seat.

But first—Nathan.

The phone rang. No answer. Shit—why wasn't he picking up?

He tried again. Left a voicemail. Sent messages.

Twenty minutes later, he finally got a reply.

It's already too late.