Glimpse in the Dark

Chapter 6

Ethan's POV

The door slammed behind me, echoing across the frigid, sterile hall. like I walked, attempting to make sense of the catastrophe I had just stumbled into, my pulse sounded to me like a frenetic drumming.

"Olivia has left, Ethan. You must be concentrated. Stop timing. Like a scalpel, Nathan's voice sliced into the suspense. A few steps away, his arms crossed, his face a mask of annoyance and concern.

"Choose?" I turned whirlingly to face him. "Emphasize? She's disappeared, Nathan. Are you aware of that? Simply—" I came to stop and inhaled deeply. Inside me, blazing hot and unrelenting, was my rage. But there was something deeper—fear. One fear I had not let myself admit until recently.

I tightened my teeth, resisting the need to pound something, anything. This was about Olivia, not merely about a kidnapping. Regarding her way of life. The life of her daughter. And all of it was sliding through my fingers.

Nathan persisted. Ethan, you have to start thinking. We have no time to lose. Whoever grabbed her is engaged in a game; if you allow your feelings to control you, you will not be winning."

Frustration bubbling over, I ran a hand over my hair. "They make me unable to think clearly while they have her. I know one thing—if they touch her, if they hurt her—I'll burn this city to the ground. I have no idea what the hell they want.

Nathan ar eyebrows. "You believe that would be of benefit? Would you find her by acting carelessly?"

"Do you have another idea?" My voice was scary and low.

"True. You will not enjoy it, though. Nathan moved forward, his face solemn. "We start from the beginning again. The instructions. The secret garbage. Every lead we can is tracked; we stop only after we locate her."

Though I gritted at him, deep down I knew he was correct. Every gut sensation, every sense of urgency screaming at me to do—anything—but Nathan had a point. Should my wrath overwhelm me, I would overlook the one thread capable of pulling this dream apart.

I nodded after another long inhale. "Alright. We keep track of the leads. If this fails, though, Nathan, I promise God—"

His tone sharp, he said, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

My phone hummed in my pocket before I could reply. My heart skipped over.

"Shit." I snatched it out, eyes darting across the screen to count. It was a personal number devoid of name.

I responded without giving any thought. Olivia?

The responded voice was synthetic and twisted. "Your precious Olivia is temporarily still breathing. But time is running out. Two hours remain.

Two half-hours. The words strike me like a gut-reversal punch. My mouth stopped in my throat. Not knowing even how to reply. My heart hammering in my chest, my head was already computing.

"What would you like?" I ground out, the phone in hand shaking.

"Nothing you know, Sinclair. Too late. But Olivia, she is really unique.

The line stopped dead.

Frozen, I stood there, the phone still held to my ear as the room filled with the terrible quiet. Two half-hours. That's all I had to look for her.

"Ethan?" Nathan's hand held my shoulder as his voice tore me back to reality. "Are you nice?"

I lowered the phone as my mind flew. Two hours. Two hours allow them to make us crack.

"Then let's make sure they don't get what they want."

My jaw closed and I nodded. "Let's relocate." Currently.

The clock was running out, and every second my thoughts sank further into anarchy. Two hours on search for Olivia. It seemed unattainable, like attempting to hunt a shadow in the darkness.

Our feet swift and deliberate, we hurried across the building, but the weight of the circumstances loomed over me like a storm cloud, oppressive and stifling. Though I kept it under control, I could feel my wrath scorching through me. This was not the time for losing control. Nobody could see how severely I was disintegrating inside.

As I watched the screen of my laptop, scanning through the emails and texts that had been inundated since the first contact, Nathan was speaking quietly, frantic on a phone call. Nothing particularly caught my attention though. Nothing that would bring me here.

Ethan, pay attention. concentrate.

Frustrated, I closed the laptop hard. The room felt smaller and suffocating at first.

"You're not going to find her here," Nathan replied at last, calling off their chat. "Nothing remains here. We must go right onto the streets. On the ground, we need boots.

Yes, he was correct. Not now, but the office wasn't going to provide me with answers. Taking my coat, I headed for the door.

Nathan trailed closely after. "Look, we'll knock every lead we have on file. We will learn who is behind this and get them to speak."

"Don't talk to me about making them talk," I snarled, hands shaking as I grabbed the door handle. "I am not chatting to anybody right now. I'm not seeking responses here. I am picking them out here.

The frigid night air stinging at my skin, we emerged onto the streets. The metropolis seemed to have had a life of its own; everything moved too quickly. The towers' lights blasted down on me, but it felt as though I was blind, groping across a fog without any obvious direction forward.

"Where do we start?" Nathan questioned, looking about the street, but I had no response. Not right now.

With the last message, I said, my voice steady. "I'm going to have conversations with the folks that have been approaching her. Work connections, everyone she lately interacted with. We had to be missing something.

Nathan nodded, but his eyes narrowed somewhat as he fixed me. "Are you absolutely ready for this?"

"I have no choice," I said quietly. "I have no choice but to find her."

We hit the ground running, delving into phone calls, probing coworkers, and following whatever lead we could uncover. Still, the pressure grew with every minute that passed. Olivia was out of reach, not merely missing.

Stopped in front of a coffee shop, I fixed my phone. Just now another private number called. As I pounded "answer," my fingers were shaking.

"This is getting tiresome," the twisted voice on the other end teased. "But you will have to give us what we need if you want her back-off. Sinclair, there are no games anymore. The clock's ticking."

I tried to be calm by swallowing hard. "I have no idea what your desired outcome is. I have no idea who you are.

"We know more than you probably realize. The stillness of the clock marks passage. Two years.

The line clicked dead, so frustrated I threw my phone against the wall.

"Who Are they?!" I snarled, then turned to Nathan with shaky hands.

Nathan raked a hand through his hair, his face gloomy. Someone who knows you more than you could possibly imagine. Someone who precisely knows where to strike.

"Olivia...?" The name came out like a plea, and for a split second the weight of everything—my shame, my failure, my love for her—washed over me. Regarding business, I had no interest. Apart from having her back, I paid no attention to anything.

Though his eyes softened, Nathan said nothing. He was not obliged to. The emotions raging within me were clearer than anything. My compass had always come from Olivia. All of mine.

I have to make corrections here. I was obliged to.

Her phone buzzed once more as I got into the car. This time, the number I identified was not a private one.

Olivia's phone number is.

My heart still missed a beat. I answered right away.

"Olivia?" I asked as I spoke with a faltering voice.

The line was silent for a time, then a voice emerged but not hers.

"She's not going to make it, Sinclair," the twisted voice teased. "We are certain of that. One hour is all you have.

The line collapsed.

I looked at the phone, the words ringing in my ears. An hour.

I heard the definite, heavy, methodical sound of footfall behind me before I could respond.

It turned out too late.

One tall, commanding figure emerged from the darkness. A man dressed in a suit. Margaret's fellow associate.

He carried a weapon.

And it was directed at me.