The grandfather clock in the corner ticks with maddening precision. Each second stretches into eternity as I sit frozen, a prisoner in my own body. One hour, four minutes, and seventeen seconds since that bastard walked out with Avery.
One hour, four minutes, and eighteen seconds of wondering what he’s doing to her.
The rage builds with nowhere to go, no muscle to tense, no fist to clench. It burns through me, molten and useless. Sebastian. The fucking stalker was Sebastian. Right under my nose the entire time. A million signs I should have seen flash through my mind—his technical background, his family connection giving him access to her entire history.
One hour. Twelve minutes. Nine seconds.
Fergus Williams remains slumped against the wall where he collapsed, his eyes wide and aware, tracking the same clock I am. Silent tears stream down his face. Tessa sits rigid in her armchair, her hands clutching the armrests, fingers white with the strain of trying to move. Drugged by her own son. This must be a proud moment for her. Avery wanted a memorable Christmas. This is one none of us will ever forget.
The acrid smell of burning meat begins to permeate the room. The turkey left unattended in the oven. The smell grows stronger with each passing minute. Smoke will follow. Then flames. If there’s any justice in the world, someone installed smoke detectors. But given Sebastian’s meticulous planning, perhaps he disabled them to destroy the evidence—us.
One hour. Sixteen minutes. Twenty-two seconds.
I focus everything on moving my pinky finger. Nothing happens. I’m still a spectator in my own body while Avery is God knows where with a fucking psychopath.
Sterling should have realised something was wrong by now. But I know why he hasn’t. The attack at the Beckett estate wasn’t random—it was calculated. Thomson was just collateral damage, a way to spread my security team thin. Sterling will be coordinating protection for my entire family, believing I’m safe with Avery. He has no reason to think I’m in danger because he didn’t know about Avery’s father’s ring, or that we would be stupid enough to drive straight here to check on him.
One hour. Sixteen minutes. Forty-five seconds.
A tingling sensation begins in my extremities. So faint I might be imagining it, but it’s there. The drug is finally wearing off. I try again to move my finger. Nothing visible happens, but I feel the attempt now, the ghost of a response.
One hour. Twenty-four minutes. Eighteen seconds.
The burning smell grows stronger. Smoke begins to curl from under the kitchen door. No alarm sounds. Of course not. Sebastian wouldn’t leave that to chance.
One hour. Thirty-six minutes. Nine seconds.
I can finally twitch my fingers. The movement is minuscule, but it’s there. My jaw remains locked, my vocal cords frozen. I can’t warn Fergus or Tessa that feeling will return. I can only watch the clock and wait.
One hour. Forty-six minutes. Thirty-one seconds.
My hand lifts an inch off the armrest. Progress, but not enough. The smoke is thickening, forming a layer near the ceiling. Tessa’s pupils are wide with panic. Fergus is still weeping silently. I knew he was a watery prick.
The tingling intensifies, becoming pins and needles, then burning pain as circulation returns. I welcome it. Pain means recovery. Recovery means I can find her.
My earpiece lies crushed on the floor, I can’t hear anything through it but it still has its own emergency system. The second I can reach it, I press the crown three times, sending an SOS signal to Sterling and activating the GPS tracker.
Two hours. Four minutes. Fifty-two seconds since Sebastian took Avery.
I force myself to stand on trembling legs that feel like they belong to someone else. Every movement is agony, but I push through it, staggering toward Fergus first. His eyes plead with me as I haul him to his feet, his body a deadweight against mine.
‘Going to get you out,’ I manage, my voice a hoarse whisper. ‘Then I’m going to find your daughter and kill your stepson.’
Fergus can’t respond, but the look in his eyes tells me he wouldn’t object to the latter.
I half-drag, half-carry him toward the front door and out onto the neatly manicured lawn, then go back for Tessa. The smoke is getting thicker, the heat from the kitchen more intense. I manage to get her outside and place her on the ground beside her husband.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Sterling. The text is simple: ‘Coordinates received. Team en route. 3 minutes.’
I wait until Sterling’s SUV comes into view to dial the emergency services. I was never here.
I need to get to Avery.
Thank fuck for the tiny, carefully concealed GPS tracker inside the diamond Cartier. I made some almighty fucking errors along the way, but her Christmas gift wasn’t one of them.
Sterling screeches to a stop ten feet away, staring at Avery’s father and stepmother with confusion. I’m going to tear Sebastian Williams apart with my bare hands. I’ve had a change of heart regarding my feelings on torture. A sick psycho stealing my girlfriend has brought out the sadist in me. If he’s so much as laid a finger on her, he’s going to lose every single one of them—slowly.
