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“Yes.”

He throws me forward, and I catch myself on the door jamb.

“Don’t run, Sadie. I am tired of chasing you.”

I try so hard to focus on keeping a steady pace, but when I see Maverick lying completely still on the floor, face bloody, that fight is lost. I sprint forward and fall to my knees.

His eyes are closed, his nose bloody. “Maverick, I’m so sorry.” I reach down and take his hand in mine, then feel for his pulse.

It’s weak. So weak.

But it’s there.

“You’ve seen him. Now let’s go.”

“What did you do to him? He’s barely breathing!”

“It’s a paralytic, he’ll be fine. Well, so long as it doesn’t stop his heart. Without knowing his exact weight, I had to guess on the dosage.”

I stare up at him, still gripping Maverick’s hand. “He needs medical attention. Please, let me call someone.”

“That wasn’t the deal.”

The subtle squeezing of my hand sends hope rushing through me.

He’s okay!

And if I buy just enough time for it to wear off, then maybe I will be, too.

“Please don’t let him die. Please,” I beg. “I’ll go with you, I won’t run. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Just please let me call someone to help him.”

Another faint squeeze of my hand.

Darren studies me, likely trying to decide whether or not he wants to trust what I’m saying. I don’t need him to believe me for long, just long enough. “Fine. But you’ll call from the car.”

“I don’t have a phone.” It’s a lie, but he didn’t search me, and the phone Maverick bought me this morning is currently in the front pocket of my jeans. He can track it so long as I have it, and they can find me. I know he will find me.

“Then take his. He won’t be needing it.” Reluctantly, I release Maverick’s hand and search his pockets.

“It’s not here. He must have left it in the kitchen. Can I please go get it?”

Darren rolls his eyes. “The things I do for love. Let’s go.” He throws the jackets to the floor and grabs a handful of my hair to rip me to my feet.

I cry out in pain, but go with him, calculating with each step what our chances are.

Lord, please save him. Please, God. No matter what happens to me, please don’t let Maverick die. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.

Darren shoves me forward, and I fall, hitting my head against the stainless-steel island. White-hot pain explodes behind my eyes, and my vision swims. “See what you keep doing to yourself?” He rips me back up and turns me to face him. “Sadie, you have to stop hurting yourself.”

Warmth trickles down from the wound on my head, but as I turn away from Darren’s intense gaze, I spot Maverick’s cell beside the fresh pot of brewed coffee.

“There it is. You said I could get it. Please, he doesn’t have long.”

Darren smiles at me, then runs his hand over the side of my face, smearing blood over my cheek.

My body trembles as sickness twists in my gut. How could I not have known? He barely spoke to me in that cellar, but his voice was different. Disguised. Still, shouldn’t I have recognized something similar? Mannerisms? Anything?

There will be plenty of time to obsess over how I didn’t see the signs, but right now, I have to fight. I can’t let this monster win again. He can’t have me this time. Never again.