“Keenan, your phone has been going off the last five minutes. You going to get that?”

I looked on the dash of Keiran’s car just in time to see the screen light darken. By the time I picked it up, the phone was ringing again.

“Yeah?” I answered while keeping my eyes trained on the house.

Sheldon’s frantic voice caused my heart to feel as if it were being ripped from my chest. I could barely hear her babbling over the pounding of my heart.

“Slow down, baby. What’s wrong?”

I was torn.

Torn between staying and saving my daughter or racing to comfort my high school sweetheart. I had to steel myself against the onslaught of emotions and remember that love wasn’t part of the equation.

“I came home and found a note asking for money or Kennedy will die.”

“Fuck!” I banged my fist against the steering wheel, forgetting that Sheldon was on the phone.

“What’s going on?”

“Someone delivered a ransom note.”

A knock on my window interrupted whatever Quentin had been about to say. We both had our guns drawn quickly, but the driver’s car door was opened, and I was yanked out before I could pull the trigger.

CHAPTER TEN

KEENAN

“WHAT THE FUCK are you doing here, son?”

I brushed away my father’s—no, John’s hands and took a step back. “You seem to have selective memory. I’m not your son.”

“Have you always been this stupid or just today?”

“I don’t have time for this.” I turned back to the car, but he yanked me up by my shirt and slammed me against the side of the car.

“Then you make time, and for the record, you little shit, I don’t care what biology says. You’re my son. Question it again and I will kill you myself.”

I saw the truth in his eyes along with anger and the anguish even though I didn’t want to. “How did you find me?”

He had been missing for the last week and chose now of all times to show up.

“I found a kid in my home doing something that didn’t look the least bit legal. Do you know something about that?”

“He’s helping me find my kid.”

“What makes you think she’s here?”

“It’s the only place we haven’t looked.”

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”

“It’s not the best time to start caring, Dad. If she’s in there, I need to get her.”

“How did you find this place?”

“Is it true?” I asked, ignoring his question. I knew he knew what I was asking. I wanted to know if his parents, my grandparents, had been living right here all this time. I’d never met them, and John had never spoken of them.

“It doesn’t matter. You have no business here. You don’t belong here.”

“You’ve got it partially right. I don’t belong anywhere.” I realized four years ago, but time changed a lot, and I eventually learned not to give a shit.

“Are we doing this?” Q asked, coming around the car. John kept his eyes on me.

“Yeah, we’re doing this.” The tension in his shoulders increased. “But not today.”

One thing I liked about Q was he didn’t ask questions.

We made the drive back in half the time when I sped all the way to Sheldon’s apartment. If there was now a ransom note, it could mean finding Kennedy safely rather than shooting blindly in the dark.

I didn’t care much for what would happen to me, but Kennedy didn’t deserve to die because of her mother and me.

“Where is it?” I asked as soon as I was through her apartment door.

Lake had her arms wrapped around a trembling Sheldon as they huddled on the couch. I made it a point to avoid looking in her eyes or going near her and not being able to comfort her.

It’s not that I couldn’t.

I just wouldn’t.

Lake seemed to pick up on my inner turmoil because she plucked the note from the floor where it lay by Sheldon’s feet and brought it to me. She quickly turned back to Sheldon but not before glaring.

I had the feeling she was beginning to think less of me these days—that is if she could think any less of me. In high school, I had made it a point to be her friend when it became obvious to me that she had nothing to do with framing my brother even when he refused to see it.

I shook off thoughts of another time that I no longer allowed to exist anymore, not even as a memory. It had all been a lie.

The notepaper crinkled in my hand reminding me of the present—

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO DO FOR HER?

“It’s not Mitch’s handwriting,” Lake offered emotionlessly as soon as I was done reading. I turned the noted over, searching for more, but there was nothing else.

“How the hell is that possible?” I hadn’t realized I’d spoken the words aloud until I felt the rumble in my chest rise with each word. Mitch was the only person who made sense. If not Mitch, then who?

“I believe I know the answer to your question,” John said, stepping forward.

* * * * *

I had no time for this. After four hours, I was more impatient than ever. I was in a race against time and losing meant my daughter’s life.

John had led Sheldon and me out west. He had insisted we drive together, but I insisted harder that we drive separately, and when Sheldon attempted to drive herself, I put an end to that, too. If being near me unhinged her as much as I thought it did, then it would be exactly what I would do.

Lake, Quentin, and Jesse stayed behind. Quentin and Lake offered to pick up the search while Jesse kept watch on the house in Camden. Each of us attempted to convince Lake to stay behind knowing Keiran wouldn’t like her putting herself in danger, but her anger towards him made her pigheaded.

My anger towards my brother wouldn’t allow me to care.

“What is this?” I asked when we pulled up to a building that resembled a hospital. The sign we passed read Summit Rehabilitation for Cancer Survivors.

John hadn’t given much explanation for the reason for this trip across state. “Just trust me,” was all he bothered to give.

I didn’t trust anyone, least of all him.

A blast of cool air hit as soon as the automatic doors slid open, allowing entrance into the facility. Sheldon had managed to remain silent, but I could tell she was feeling as anxious as I was. We approached the large receptionist’s desk where three women who looked like nurses bustled around each other in some sort of harmonized frenzy.

“Good evening, Mr. Masters,” a nurse close to John’s age greeted. “I’m sure you are aware that visiting hours are almost over.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Suzy.” John’s monotonous greeting was as empty as his expression though his eyes seemed to bore into her. “This won’t take long,” he half-heartedly assured.

The nurse didn’t respond but, instead, pursed her lips in disapproval. I read the sign on the desk and realized that visiting hours weren’t over for another thirty minutes so what was her problem? When John moved away without another word, I decided it wasn’t important. His heavy footsteps led us down a long hallway. He took a quick right and came to a stop at the first door down the corridor.

Sheldon still had yet to say anything but continued to check her phone repeatedly.

Time was running out.

The chance of a victim of kidnapping being found alive or at all after the first twenty-four hours was slim. Kennedy had been missing for over a week now.

“Look, son, when I open this door, I want you to keep your cool.”

“Who the hell is in there, and what do they have to do with my daughter?”

John didn’t bother to answer. After giving me a stern look, which I ignored, he turned the knob and entered slowly. I stepped inside and looked around cautiously before my eyes settled on a figure that appeared to be sleeping.

Five seconds was all it took for me to realize who it was that I was seeing. He was hooked up to a machine with many wires running in and out of his body. His form was no longer as large as I remembered. Instead, he looked frail and weak.