Page 153 of Anton

Blyat. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was never supposed to find out.

My fingers snap around the dresser, and I shove it so violently that everything on top crashes to the floor. Glass breaks, wood scrapes, but none of it does a damn thing to ease the rage tearing through me.

I should have burned the fucking photo the second I realized I couldn’t kill her, and I should have lied to her. Instead, I told the truth.

Why? What the hell is wrong with me?

But I’ve never had a reason to lie to anyone before. I’ve never cared enough to spare anyone’s feelings.

I let out a rough curse as I drag both hands through my hair, turning toward the bed where Volchok watches me from the floor, judging me with those dark eyes.

I deserve it.

My phone is in my palm as I load the tracker connected to her phone. The last time I checked, she was at the farm. I need to go talk to her, even though I don’t think I can make it better. But I’m going to try.

I shove my feet into my sneakers, grab my keys, and head for the door, needing to see her.

And if the Whitlocks have a problem with that, I will put a bullet in each one of them myself.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

THORA

I don’t know how long I’ve been down here, but I’m afraid I’m running out of time. One wrong move, and Drew might kill me.

He paces in front of me again, staring at his phone and muttering under his breath.

“Can you please untie my hands?” I ask, knowing if I’m free, running will be easier than first slipping out of the rope. “They’re really starting to hurt.”

He shakes his head, avoiding my eyes as he keeps pacing.

“Drew, look at me. Please.”

When he does, I find the hurt little boy inside him, the trauma and pain he must have endured. But none of that excuses what he’s doing to me.

“If you truly love me, then you’ll untie me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But you’ll run.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I swear I won’t. We can talk all you want, but you have to let me go before everyone starts thinking the worst. I don’t want them thinking badly about my brother.”

His nostrils flare, and a low chuckle slips out of him. “Do you think I care what a bunch of criminals think? They’ve killed so many people, and you would still choose them.”

“No, please. That’s not true. I’m not choosing them.” I try not to make my voice shake, even though I can feel him slipping further away from me. “I just want us to think this through. You’re back in my life, and I want us to have a relationship. But what will that look like if you keep me tied up down here? Will I be here for days? Weeks?”

My chest constricts, panic sinking its teeth into me. This can’t be happening.

He grips his hair, his features twisting with anger. “You don’t have to worry about that. Your big brother has it all figured out. No one will come between us, Penny.”

My stomach lurches.

Please, Anton. Please find me.

I know it’s an impossibility. No one will know I’m here, but hope is the only thing I have left.

When I realize he won’t untie me, I come up with an alternate plan—or at least I hope it’s somewhat decent.

“May I have some water? I’m thirsty.”