Marisa stared at the screen, at the cursor counting down the seconds. Each lifeless flash was an accusation. Ana would have been better off if Marisa had never laid eyes on the sweet girl.

Rick had called her bluff.

The kidnapper grabbed her chin and yanked her face to his. He bent down until they were nose-to-nose. His breath filled her nostrils, a scent like bad cheese and beer nearly choked her.

"The money." He stood to his full height. Maybe six feet. All muscle. "Transfer it. Now."

She swallowed. Recalled the story. "It's in a mutual fund. It's..."

The blow came too fast for her to react. Her head snapped to the left. The pain was sharp in her face, down her neck.

He grabbed the hair on the top of her head and turned her to face him. "Don't lie to me. I know you weren't at the bank today. I was watching. All day. Where's the money?"

"I don't..." What should she say? What could she say? No stories came. Nothing but the truth.

"I don't have the money. I never had it. I don't know who does."

He gripped her hair tighter, and she lifted, tried to ease the tension. With his other hand, he squeezed her chin. "You're lying. Tell me the truth."

"I never—"

"Don't lie to me!"

She cringed, knew he was about to strike her again, but instead, he pushed her back on the sofa, swiveled, and paced. He walked to the back of the house, looked out the window, and walked to the front door. He looked out the window there. He started to drop the curtain, then pulled it back again.

Swore. Twice.

"Your boyfriend... I should have killed him when I had the chance."

Nate. He was alive. And he knew... Which meant, he'd have called Brady. The police would be on their way.

Hope surged like an electrical current, tingling through her fingers.

The kidnapper returned to the couch and gripped her arm. "Get up."

She stood, and he propelled her toward the back door. She glanced at the opening to the hallway.

"Now that I have you, I don't need the brat. She'd just slow us down."

Thank God, her daughter would be safe. Someone would find her there. "Is she—?"

"Shut up."

He pushed open the back door and shoved Marisa outside. He stood beside her, peered in both directions.

He propelled her off the deck and back toward their cabin and the main road.

Chapter 35

"NATE."

The word felt whispered from far away. A hand on his neck. "Thank God. You're alive."

Was he?

Marisa.

He tried to get his eyes open. Felt gravel and dirt in his mouth. Spit it out.

"Let me help you."

Brady helped him sit, and it all came back.

"You see it? You see the car?"

"My guys are moving in as we speak."

Nate looked around, saw men in dark uniforms sneaking silently toward the cabin.