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Shaking, I lowered the phone and looked down the hallway, back to where…back to Ash. I shouted his name. He didn’t answer.

The screaming I’d heard earlier had gone silent. He must have told her to be quiet. She would've listened, of course. Because that was the kind of woman he wanted…I pushed the thought from my head. Not important.

A distant voice caught my attention and I stopped, lifting the phone to my ear as I started down the hallway. “I’m getting him.”

“No time for that, Miss Gallagher. I’m afraid you’ll have to work as the go-between for now.”

I shot another look down the hall and tried to walk faster. If I ran, I wouldn't be able to hear. Damn it, Ash…

My knees went weak as the man laid out his demands.

The line went dead.

Too late.

I sank to the floor and stared at the plush carpet beneath me. I tried to breathe, tried to steady myself.

But I couldn’t.

I ended up vomiting the entire contents of my stomach up on the floor.

Chapter 7

Toni

Thursday morning.

I mentally counted the days since Isadora had been kidnapped.

I wanted to puke.

Again.

As far as I knew, there hadn’t been any more calls, no more contact from the kidnapper. Not since Tuesday afternoon. Instead of a comforting blur, it was stark and clear. Every memory from the moment I'd seen Ash – Mr. Lang – through the rest of the day and into the night had been seared into my brain.

I hadn’t quite made it to my feet when Mr. Lang had appeared in the door, his jeans unzipped, a cruel smirk on his lips. “What are you…?”

That had been the last semi-civilized statement he’d said to me.

Everything else since then had either been shouted or snarled.

He'd been furious.

I hadn't deserved any of it. It hadn't been like I’d planned to walk in on his little kink-fest, and I’d sure as hell tried to get him on the phone. He had just been too busy, all balls-deep in the ass of his tied-up girlfriend.

Were they serious?

I didn’t know.

I didn't care, I reminded myself.

But even if I didn't care, I didn't understand why he was so pissed at me. I had tried to get to him in time. I'd told the cops everything the kidnapper had said. I'd remembered everything.

But still, it hadn’t been good enough.

Not surprising. A guy like him expected perfection, something I was sorely lacking in. I was also lacking in answers and he seemed to think I could pull those out of my ass.

The rest of the night's memories followed.

“Miss Gallagher?”

I tensed at the sound of my name. I hadn't been able to help it. I didn’t hate cops, didn’t distrust them, per se. But they’d made my life hell, had made my family’s life hell back when Vic had gotten in trouble. They'd assumed some of us – if not all of us – had been involved in the crap he’d been doing.

The FBI agent had noticed my flinch and had lifted a trim black eyebrow. Her skin had been a lovely shade of warm brown, and she smiled as she'd come into the room and sat down. “Don’t like cops, huh?”

“You’re with the FBI,” I'd said without thinking. “That’s actually scarier than the cops.”

She'd just chuckled. “You’re very blunt, Miss Gallagher…or is it Dr. Gallagher?”

“Not yet.” I'd grimaced at the thought of the final I'd had coming up the next morning and the notes I needed to study.

It hadn't ended up mattering. I hadn't gone in to take it. I'd still have a C even if I didn't retake the test. After a lifetime of perfection, one fucking C had barely even registered.

“Must be hard, working a job like this and still going to school.”

I'd shrugged. “I’ve always had to work. It’s nothing new.” I hadn't understood why she'd been asking about work rather than the phone call.

“I hear ya on that. I’ve been there.” She'd smiled. “Special Agent Dionne Marcum, by the way. Man, I tell you…I look around this place, see all this money. I had to do what you did, bust my ass all the way through, working a job, sometimes two, and there would be some of these kids with their silver spoon choking them as they complained about how hard it was getting up for a nine a.m. class.”

I'd leaned back, studying her. “I know the type.”

“You’re working for the type,” she'd countered.

“Isadora’s a doll. She’s not a complainer.” I'd blown out a sigh. “Please tell me you all have something.”

“I wish I could.”

Off in the distance, I'd heard Ash – Mr. Lang – his voice big and harsh. Dionne had grimaced. “That one isn’t a doll. Why'd you come in today?”

“Because she wanted me to do a job for her, and…” I'd stopped. It hadn't been easy to say. “I’m scared. I’m worried about her. Being here…well, I was hoping I’ll hear good news here, rather than something bad on the news.”

She'd continued to study me. She'd had a good game face, but hey, I’d grown up with Victor. I'd known when I was being played and I'd seen the wheels churning, see them spinning in her head. Tired of the game, I'd leaned forward, elbows braced on the edge of the desk. It was neatly organized, everything I needed within reach, including a computer that was so top of the line, I didn't think it was even on the market yet.

“Can I make this easy on both of us?” I'd said softly.

There had been just the tiniest break in her it’s just us girls mask. Then she'd cocked her eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Look…” I'd hitched up a shoulder. “I'll give you credit. You're good at this – really good. But you can stop with the trying to bond with me thing. Just ask your questions.”

The friendly look had drained out of her eyes and she'd cocked her head, indicated that I should continue.

“Let’s just say I had a good crash course when it comes to cops. I know a routine when I see one.” I'd given her a wry smile and shrugged. “You already pointed out that I’m blunt. I am. And I prefer it when people are the same with me. I gave your buddy over there everything the kidnapper said to me on the phone. What else do you want to know?”

“Fair enough,” Dionne had said, giving me an appraising smile. “So let’s look at it like this. You’re busting your ass through school. Had a job that made it…well, easier. Not easy, though. But you could study, and it let you take the time you needed. Then life kicks you in the face, and you lose that job, had to find another. Here you are, working with people in the lap of luxury. Isadora Lang? If she wanted to, she’d never need to do anything but spend money and she wouldn't run out. Isn’t that rough?”

“No. Why would it be?” I'd answered honestly and kept my eyes steady on her.

Dionne had leaned forward. “Toni, you have the smarts, drive and determination to do anything. But you had to work. You had a full ride offered to you, only to have it taken away because of things your brother did. That’s hardly fair.”

“Can I share a secret?” I'd dropped my voice. “Life’s not fair. You learn to deal with it.”

She'd started to say something else and I'd lifted a hand. I was tired of it by then. They needed to be out trying to track down the caller, not questioning me about my life.

“Nothing else.” I'd said. “I get what you’re poking at. Somebody decided that it was plausible that I might have gotten drawn into this because I’m hard up for money. Somebody offered me easy money…nobody would be hurt. I just had to do what they asked…how close am I?”

Dionne had shrugged, her gaze shrewd. “Close enough that I imagine you watch a lot of Law & Order or NCIS. Plenty of people get the rough idea of what they think happens, Miss Gallagher.”