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Prologue
Sophia
Five years ago
They say a scream sounds different in real life compared to the movies.
When true horror finds you, though, you’re lucky if you can manage any noise at all.
My heart pounds, panic outrunning thought. Terror lodges in my throat, and I struggle to suppress the living, breathing fear writhing in my chest.
Biting my lip for the millionth time, I swallow the taste of blood and pennies.
My father’s warning drones in my head. “Don’t say a word, Soph. Just stay still, baby. Stay quiet and don’t look afraid. Don’t give them a reason.”
Funny how my entire body didn’t get the memo.
I’m kneeling in the middle of the damn highway, barefoot, blindfolded, my knees throbbing, and my palms shredded to hell from where they yanked me out of the car. It’s October, and the night air cocoons me, cold as a corpse’s last breath. Headlights flash behind the blindfold, transforming the darkness into some twisted red-and-white strobe. Like a nightmarish disco.
I can’t see a damn thing.
But I can hear.
Beside me, Mama’s crying, her wet hiccups muffled by the back of her hand. Dad’s heaving like a man who’s about to beg for his life. And in front of me, there’s the slow crunch of gravel under heavy boots and that voice…the one that makes my twenty-year-old bones feel like wet paper.
“Strip.”
At the single, sharp command, I go statue-still. My pulse immediately spikes, and my heart nearly jumps out of my throat. I open my mouth to suck in extra oxygen, but I barely inhale enough to keep myself conscious.
The order echoes in my head as the rest of the world drops into a deep silence. The only sound is the wind howling down the highway like it’s got somewhere better to be.
I’ve never seen the man behind this voice, but Dad whispered the name once, late at night, when he thought I was asleep. “The enforcer. Enzo. If he shows up, it’s over.”
Well, here he is. Guess that’s that.
“Strip.” He steps closer, drawling out the word like he’s talking to a disobedient mutt. Like I’m not even human. Just some dumb animal shivering in the headlights.
“She’s only a kid.” I don’t miss the subtle panic lacing my father’s voice. “She knows nothing of my business.”
“Shouldn’t have brought her.” The man’s boots shift away from me. “Shouldn’t have dragged your daughter into your mess.”
“I…”
A thud pierces the air, and a sharp groan replaces whatever words my father was about to utter.
“Please spare us!” My mother’s plea tears through the dark. For a moment I can’t tell who’s been hurt.
My breath catches in my throat.
“That’s for making me do this to an innocent girl.” The man speaks in a cold, dead tone. “Where’s the list?”
“What list?” Dad breathes. “I swear I don’t know…”
The man releases a heavy, drawn-out sigh. “I’ll search her myself.”
I go rigid, every muscle in my body seizing at once.
The air shifts as I sense him striding toward me. I hear the soft brush of his coat, the roll of tension in every step.
