Marco's pale face turned even whiter, "I swear I didn't see anyone else. Though in the car on the way here, Levi did make a phone call. It was strange and short, and I thought nothing of it at the time—but it sounded like he was telling someone when we'd arrive."

"Did you hear the person he was talking to?" she asked.

​​

"No," Marco answered. "He was wearing an earpiece the whole time."

"Shit," she whispered. "It was all planned—every last detail."

"Huh?" Marco asked.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "We're both screwed."

She turned away and walked toward the sliding glass doors she'd passed through. She was surprised when they slid open. Though her head throbbed and her wrists were still painfully cuffed in front of her, she sprinted as fast as she could across the bright terminal. Her sandals slapped the floor, and her wrists chafed against the cuffs, but she ran as fast as she could.

"Bloody hell," Glen shouted. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

She could hear his booted feet pounding the hard floor behind her, but she continued to run. Seconds later, a powerful hand clamped down on her shoulder. Her ankle twisted painfully at the sudden stop, and she groaned.

"Do you want me to tie her legs, Miss Blair?" Glen asked.

"Don't bother," Iris sneered. "She can't get far. Besides, it's almost time to take them to the jet. Here, I'll watch her while you get Marco."

Catherine glared at Iris. Somehow, Iris had cleaned herself up—the blood had been scrubbed from her face, and her hair was tied back in a neat bun. Her dress was still stained red, but she looked much better than before.

"Why don't you let me go to the bathroom and clean myself up," Catherine suggested.

"Do you think I was born yesterday?" Iris snapped.

The sliding glass doors opened, and Glen reappeared with Marco leaning heavily on his arm. In the bright light of the terminal, Marco looked even worse. Purple circles darkened the skin under his eyes, and his face looked sunken. He walked with a shuffling limp, and his teeth gritted against the pain.

"Can you handle her, Miss Blair?" Glen asked. "I could probably take them both at once."

"I'm fine," Iris said. "Besides, I want to be there as she gets on the plane. I think it'll make a nice photo op, don't you, Catherine? Certainly something my brother might like to see."

Iris grabbed the chain that connected the two handcuffs and gave it a sharp jerk like she was pulling on the leash of a stubborn dog. Catherine took a step forward and then another. Her head spun—the brightness of the light, the cold hard surfaces of the terminal—it all seemed unreal.

She took a deep breath and screamed, "Hello? Is anyone there? Help me! Help me!"

"What do you think you're doing?" Iris snapped.

She ignored the question and shouted, "Help, someone, help me! Rape, fire, kidnap, murder! Help!"

"Save your breath," Iris said. "No one will hear you."

Catherine bit her lip—she knew Iris was right. Everything had been planned carefully in advance—there wouldn't be anyone around to see or hear her. With Iris pulling on her wrists, she walked past the two expressionless security guards and onto the tarmac. As they walked, she looked around for other buildings. Though Iris had managed to clear one building, there was no way she'd shut down the whole airport.

Heat rose off the tarmac, making the air shimmer, and she squinted. In the distance, like a mirage, there was a long, low building. If she could get close to it, maybe someone would see her and alert security. She took a deep breath and studied the distance. With her twisted ankle, dizzy head, and handcuffed hands, it would be almost impossible to get that far. Though Glen was weighed down with Marco, he could quickly drop Marco and chase after her. She needed to time it just right.

The march in the sun seemed endless. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye, she saw a worker in a neon vest rolling a staircase up to the door of a jet. She was out of time. With a deep breath, she jerked her arms, pulling herself free from Iris. Then she took off running.

Her head throbbed with each step, and her lungs ached, but she pushed herself as fast as she could. Something slammed into her back, and she staggered forward but didn't fall. A strong hand yanked her hair, and another grabbed her forearm. Glen pulled her toward him, and she kicked him and screamed like an animal. He pawed at her face, and she bit down on his hand as hard as she could. Fury flashed in Glen's eyes, and he let her go. Seconds later, a fist slammed into her abdomen, and she collapsed on the ground in pain.

Glen bent down and picked her up by her handcuffs. The cold metal dug into her wrists as he pulled her to her feet, and a moan of pain sounded from somewhere deep within her throat. In the distance, a woman screamed a warning, but Catherine didn't care—the pain was overwhelming, and her head spun. She closed her eyes.

"Let her go," hissed a voice, low and cold.

She opened her eyes and saw Sean jogging toward them. He moved with the grace of a predator, and his eyes flashed with barely contained rage.

"I said let her go," he repeated.

Glen let go of her handcuffs, and the sudden release hurt almost as much as the pain of the cuffs on her wrist. She staggered on her feet, and Sean's arms closed around her.

"Mr. Blair," Glen said, fear in his eyes.

Sean ignored the man and stared down at her. His eyes scanned her face and then her neck, shoulders, bare arms, wrists, and hands. With each new body part, the fury flashed brighter. She looked down at her arms—crusted in blood and covered in cuts and scratches, and she flinched.

"What did they do to you?" Sean asked, his voice choked with rage.

"I'm fine," she said.

"Really?" he said.

"None of it's serious," she said quickly.

He made a sound halfway between a cough and a snort, but he lifted his eyes and stared at Glen and then at Iris. Catherine followed his gaze—Glen looked terrified, but Iris just looked awkward. She stood over Marco, who was collapsed on the tarmac at her feet, and glanced back and forth between him and her brother.

"What are you doing?" Sean shouted.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Blair," Glen said. "You see—"

"Shut up," Sean snapped. "I'm not talking to you. Iris, get over here right now. And give me the keys to get my wife out of these handcuffs."

Iris walked across the tarmac, slow and leisurely as if she was taking an afternoon stroll. Sean's rage radiated off of his body, and Catherine shivered in his arms. He was terrifying.

"What are you still doing here," Sean shouted at Glen. "Get out of my sight. I'll deal with you later."

Glen nodded and jogged away. Iris watched him go, and for the first time, uncertainty flickered across her face.