From what he’d told her, he’d succeeded, meaning she wouldn’t need to spend her life looking over her shoulder. But considering it was unlikely she would survive the day; it was scant consolation. The outhouse she was being held prisoner in had previously been an office, with a creaky desk and chair pressed against the far wall.

Possibly the security office?

It didn’t matter.

It would likely be her final resting place.

Above the desk, a murky window offered a promise of sunlight, but the grime from years of abandonment kept the room dark. Alex was alone, locked in a shaded room with nothing but a bullet to the skull in her future.

Her only hope was Sam.

Having foiled Vasquez’s attempt of an execution, he was still at large and knowing him as intimately as she did, Alex knew he would be knocking on every door to find her.

But they were in the middle of nowhere, hidden behind the metal barriers that locked the abandoned mill from the world.

Even though she knew Sam would walk through hell to make good on his promise to her, she held little hope he would ever find her.

She would die here.

Her brother and sister would remain in care, lost in a system that tries its best but one that would eventually chew them up and spit them into an adult life they were unprepared for.

Her mother would leave rehab, lose her fresh perspective, and turn to the needle once more.

The only comfort she held in her inevitable murder was that at least one person was fighting to save her.

One person cared enough to fight for her survival.

With a deep sigh, Alex rocked back against the wall, the breath leaving her body with the last remnants of hope.

A forearm pressed against the window.

She twisted her neck to look, and the thick, muscular arm wiped the muck away, clearing a smidge of glass to allow a beam of light to slice through the shadow like a knife.

Then Special Agent Joe Alan appeared, lifting his head up from under the windowsill, and peeked into the room.

Alex’s heart skipped a beat.

She’d assumed him dead; her last memory was him lying at the mercy of Sykes among the anarchy of the night before. Alan nodded to her, and she shook her head, arching her neck to the door, hoping he heeded her warning.

The vile Emilio was outside the door, praying they let him have his way with her before they eradicated her from their plans.

Alan took the message and then disappeared, presumably to find another way to her.

Her heart sank.

For that brief moment, she’d felt a flicker of hope.

But the reality of the situation was bleak.

As the door slowly crept open, it got even worse.