“How long have you been here?” I demanded.

How long had she been hiding in the walls? I heard those sounds the night I arrived. She hadn’t been hiding that long, right?

But even as the thought occurred to me, I watched her eyes shift as she filled her bottle, and the fury boiled over.

“I arrived on the shipment like you,” she said in a low voice.

I charged over, grabbed her water bottle, and threw it. I fisted her collar and shoved her away, growling. She stumbled backward, tripped over the toilet, and fell onto the ground, landing on her ass. She broke the fall with her hands and her eyes flew up to me.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” I gritted out as quietly as I could. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to me?”

All this time. She’d been watching all of us. What the hell was going on?

She breathed hard, but she never blinked. She knew she’d fucked up.

“You’ve been hiding in the walls,” I pointed out. “It didn’t occur to you at some point to grab me, too?”

“Of course, it did,” she said, climbing to her feet again and picking up her bottle. “It just got complicated.”

I closed the distance between us and swatted her about fifteen times lightly in the chest. Goddamn her.

“Are you hitting my boobs?” She batted at my hands. “Seriously.”

I didn’t know what was going on, and while I was momentarily grateful not to be as alone as I thought, I had no doubt she had the answers I wanted and was refusing to give them to me.

This was bullshit.

She caught her breath, and I stood there, not at all scared if she decided to hit me back.

But she didn’t. She just cocked an eyebrow, saying, “Save it for the plutocrats. You need me.”

I stood there, about ready to hit her again, but she was right. I had a much better chance of getting out of here with her.

She refilled the water bottle that I’d spilled when I threw it, and I stalked back into the bedroom, throwing on the underwear and bra she gave me. I didn’t put on the clothes yet, because if I faced the guys again, they’d wonder where I got them.

I pulled on Aydin’s Oxford and tied up my wet hair into a ponytail with a rubber band I’d snatched from the asparagus in the fridge.

“Listen…” Alex entered the room, stuffed the bottle into the bag and tossed the duffle into the passageway again. “We guessed Will was sent here several months ago—maybe a year or more, we don’t know exactly. He’d been using and drinking, and we figured with his grandfather’s re-election coming up, Senator Grayson took matters into his own hands before Will became a liability.”

A year… So, he had been here that long. At least.

“We couldn’t get him out because no one would tell us where it was,” she told me, “but we could get someone in.”

Me?

But no. She said she didn’t know why I was here.

So, that meant they sent her?

“Michael, Kai, Damon…” I rattle off, “and they sent you?”

She stared at me, but the hesitation in her eyes said it all.

“No,” she finally admitted. “Michael was coming. I… I micked him before the pick-up.”

I narrowed my eyes. She roofied him? “Why?” I searched for words. “Alex, why would you volunteer for this? A woman would be in so much more danger. It’s crazy.”

Her gaze faltered, and she didn’t answer me. Why would she put herself in such unnecessary risk when anyone could’ve come for Will?

Unless…

Unless she loved him.

That was the only reason she’d come in Michael Crist’s place. She thought only she’d be able to bring Will home.

My stomach coiled and jealousy rolled through me, making my heart pound. It was my place to save him. Not hers.

But it was ridiculous for me to have such a thought, I knew that.

I was jealous, though. I knew their history and I liked Alex—more than I wanted to—but somehow it hadn’t hurt until now, because she just had this way about her that made you all warm and want to be wherever she was. It was impossible to hate her.

And I’d been kind of glad he had her at his side. As long as I didn’t let myself wonder if she was better for him. If she made him happy.

But now I couldn’t keep the thought from my mind.

She’d come for him. I hadn’t.

She was better for him.

I opened my mouth. “Alex, I—”

But she pressed her finger to her lips. “Shhh.”

The hallway outside my door creaked, and she grabbed my hand, pulling me into the secret passageway.

She closed the painting, and we stood there quietly as she dug in the bag at our feet for something.

“Do they know about the passageways?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t think so,” she told me. “I’ve been able to skulk around undetected.”

“Seems weird,” I said. “There’s a secret room off Aydin’s bedroom with a two-way mirror. They should suspect there’s more disguised rooms and tunnels.”

She rose, and then I heard a winding, the rechargeable flashlight illuminating as she pulled out a large, folded-up piece of paper that looked like a map.

I dropped my eyes, noticing it wasn’t paper. Not normal paper, anyway.

I grabbed it from her, the feel instantly familiar. It was vellum. This was a blueprint.

How did…? Where…? I snatched her flashlight and turned away to inspect the plans.

“If I’m being punked, I’m going to kill you,” I hissed, studying the floor plan. “If this is someone’s idea of a prank, and we’re in Thunder Bay…”

“And they imported that waterfall you saw outside?” she spat out. “Think, Em.”

She snatched the blueprints and flashlight out of my hands and walked past me, down the tunnel. I couldn’t help but glare at her back as she flipped over the folded document in her hand and studied it while we walked.

No, there wasn’t a waterfall in Thunder Bay. But there were plenty throughout New England and possibly more on the hundreds of islands dotting the coast.

I needed to see that blueprint again. I could read it a hell of a lot faster than she could.

A faint light caught my eye, and I stopped. “Alex…” I whispered, inching toward the wall and closer to the light. “What’s the plan here?”

If we were on an island, she had to have a boat or someone airlifting us out of here. I guessed she had some kind of tracker on her so they knew where to come.

“I have a satellite phone,” she told me. “The cavalry is on its way.”

“What does that mean?”

“The Horsemen,” she clarified. “They tracked me when I was transported here. We just need to hang on.”

Hang on?

“It’s been days,” I bit out in her face. “I could’ve gotten to China and back by now! Twice! Have you even talked to them? How do you know for sure they tracked you? Satellite phones use a lot of power. You would have to keep it turned on for them to track you.”

“Or make a call,” she retorted.

I narrowed my eyes. “You called them?”

“Yes.”