“But it only works with the stuff coming in with the coffins,” I said. “And now that everyone knows…”

“I’m working on a new site in Chattanooga,” he said. “Lula was deliverin’ samples. They’re about to come on board, but Lula’s a loose thread.”

“So after you kill me, you’ll hunt her down and kill her?”

“That’s the plan. Now let’s go.”

I could let him try to come get me or I could walk over to him. He didn’t seem to want to shoot me in here, or else he’d have already done it, so I decided to make this as difficult as possible for him. “No.”

An evil grin filled his eyes. “Fine by me.” He aimed the gun right at me, and I knew I’d made the wrong decision as soon as I heard a gunshot and the smell of gunpowder filled the air.

Chapter Thirty-Three

I pressed my back against the wall, waiting for the inevitable pain, but Shane dropped to the ground like a rock, revealing Todd Bingham standing about ten feet outside the doorway. Several men were fanned out around him.

“Where’s Lula?” he barked, his gun pointed right at my chest.

I’d gone from one monster to another.

Something inside me collapsed, like all the air had been let out of a balloon. I wanted to sink to the ground, sobbing in fear and pain, but I wasn’t going to back down. Not with him.

Somewhere deep down, I found the last of my strength and straightened my back. “I don’t know.”

“You said she was with Jones!” he shouted. “You said he had her!”

“He didn’t,” I said, still standing against the wall. “He was lookin’ for her just like us.”

“Then where the fuck is she?”

Who else would want her? Her biological father?

Pure panic raced through my blood. If he had her, I had no doubt that he would kill her.

Unless…

Did Max know the truth? Had he told Wyatt? Were they all holed up together, the two brothers stepping up to protect their half-sister and trying to figure out what to do next?

Suddenly, I knew where Lula was—or at least who she was with—and the truth hurt so badly I doubled over in pain. I leaned to the side and vomited bile.

Bingham’s voice wavered. “Did he hurt you?”

“Drugged me with some failed concoction. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck, but I think I know where Lula is. Give me your sat phone and I’ll arrange for you to see her.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” he demanded.

I sank to my knees. “Which part? The drugs or her location?”

Then I realized I was six feet from a dead man, his blood slowly seeping toward me on the hard ground.

That man would have killed me if he’d had his way. It was all too much. Still, I forced myself to swallow the sob rising in my throat.

You can’t fall apart now, Carly. Not in front of him.

“If you lend me your sat phone and give me some privacy, I can confirm my theory. I think I know where she is.”

He seemed to give it some consideration, then said, “There’s someone you might want to see first.”

Oh God. Had he taken someone prisoner to use as motivation? To convince me that I’d better guess right this time?

“Let him out,” Bingham said with the flick of a hand.

It was then I noticed an SUV behind him—a dark Explorer—and Marco got out of the car, flying across the ground on his crutches. My first thought was that he was going to slip and fall in the snow.

“Carly!” he shouted.

I found the strength to get to my feet, forcing myself to walk over the dead body on the ground. Marco reached me a few feet outside of the shed. He dropped a crutch and engulfed me with one arm, holding me so tightly I could scarcely catch my breath.

“You’re freezin’,” he said, releasing me to shrug off his jacket. He balanced on one crutch as he wrapped the jacket around my shoulders. Leaning down to look at my face, he said, “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, dangerously close to crying. Part of me wanted to collapse into him and sob, but I couldn’t fall apart. Not yet.

“Where’s Greta?”

“We dug a hole to escape, but he was coming out of the house, and I was still too unbalanced from the drugs he gave me to run. So I sent her to get help.” I lowered my voice. “Can we trust Bingham?”

“As much as anyone can, but he won’t hurt Greta, if that’s what you’re worried about. Which way did she go? I’ll have him send someone to go find her.”

“Through the trees, parallel to the road. I need to use Bingham’s sat phone, Marco. I think I know where Lula is.”

He searched my face. “Did Jones tell you?”

“No.”

I held his gaze, and he must have seen something in my eyes because he simply nodded and led me over to Bingham. “Greta escaped toward the road. We need to send someone to find her. And you need to give Carly your sat phone and let her make her call.”

The two men had a staring contest for a few seconds, and it ended with Bingham reaching into his jacket pocket. “Ty and Pitch, go look for Greta. Try to be as nonthreatening as possible.”

Two men jumped into a truck and drove back down the lane, but Bingham still held the phone in his hand. “I’ll listen in.”

“If I’m right, I’m giving you Lula, Bingham, and asking for nothing in return. All I ask for is some privacy.”

His eyes darkened. “You have five minutes.”

I took the phone and he walked away, leaving me with Marco.

“I need to sit down,” I said, my legs shaky.

“Let’s go over to my car.”

I didn’t think I’d make it that far, so I sank down onto the snow-covered ground, a wave of dizziness washing over me.

“Carly?” Marco cried out, tossing his crutch and sitting next to me.

“I just need a minute.” But I didn’t have a spare minute. Bingham had only given me five of them. I blinked a couple of times, trying to see the touchpad, but it kept going in and out of focus.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said. “I can’t see the numbers. I need you to press the buttons.”

He took the phone, giving me a worried look.

“I’ll be fine. Greta warned me that it takes hours to recover.” I told him the number, pleased that I remembered given the state of my head.

When he finished, he handed me the phone.

I could hear it ringing. Then Wyatt’s hardened voice cut in. “Wyatt Drummond.”

“Wyatt, it’s Carly. I know what you and Max are doing, but I need to speak to Lula.”

He hesitated, then said, “Where are you callin’ me from?”

“It doesn’t matter, Wyatt,” I said, my voice breaking. Then, lest he think I was calling under duress, I added, “I’m with Marco. Now put Lula on the phone.”

More silence, and I knew he was torn between lying to me, again, and protecting his newly discovered sister. My heart felt ripped in two.

“I know she’s with you,” I snapped. “And I understand why, now just put her on the damn phone.”