MY SHOES POUNDED the Georgia clay. Back and forth I paced, watching my phone: the time, Charli’s app, and Oren’s texts. The sky was dark, barely a sliver of moon lighting the expanse from the woods to the manor.

“Are you sure she can find the way?” I asked Isaac.

“It’s not difficult. You can see the lights of the manor.”

I moved to the edge of the trees. We could see it. In the distance was Montague Manor, high on a hill, ablaze with golden lighting. Even from this far away, I could make out figures as people came and went on the back patio. Each one was smaller than ants, but they were there.

My phone buzzed and I read the text.

“It’s from my dad. They have Adelaide. They’re rushing her to the airport.”

“Step one,” Isaac confirmed. “Now as long as no one at Magnolia Woods is tipped off and informs Mr. Fitzgerald.”

I shook my head. “Damn, my nerves are shot. I can do deals. I can spend millions, but tonight is almost more than I can take.”

“It’s almost there, boss.”

I eased myself to the ground and settled on a soft, grassy spot near the trees. From my new position, I had a full view of the manor and the fields in between. The barren tobacco stalks stood out against the night, as the air near the ground seemed to thicken.

Was it an optical illusion?

“Deloris hacked the guest list,” Isaac said, sitting near me and breaking the tension. “One hundred and twenty-two invitations.”

I didn’t give a shit. Not one shit. I only cared about one person.

I reconsidered. I also cared about Patrick and Chelsea, because Charli did. It was more than that with Patrick. He’d shown me more than once that he loved his cousin. Throughout this whole thing, he’d been helpful, even instrumental.

“Any names you recognize?” I asked, less interested in the guest list than I was in making time move faster. If only I could hit fast-forward. If only I could have Charli secured in a plane as Oren was doing now with Adelaide.

My gaze moved about, from the soupy landscape up to the clear sky. Above us were stars, thousands of stars. Even in Rye there weren’t as many.

“Doyle and Shirley Carroll, Severus Davis and guest.”

Isaac suddenly had my attention. “Are you shitting me?”

His eyes opened wide. “No, sir, I’m not. Senator and Mrs. Grant Higgins.” He continued with names that seemed unlikely to be at the same gathering. Was there more to this party?

Though I struggled with the possibilities—legislation, tax breaks, marijuana—I pushed them away. Those were thoughts for another day. Now I was concentrating on the task at hand.

Isaac jumped to his feet. “She’s moving!”

His words seemed almost to be an illusion. I’d imagined them so many times for them to be real. I swiped my screen, pulling up Charli’s app and praying that what he’d just said was true.

“Shit!” I held my breath. The blue dot—her blue dot—was moving away from the manor. Her heart rate was elevated, but then again, she was moving fast.

“God, princess,” I spoke to the app. “Don’t bring attention to yourself. Be careful.”

I stood, searching the horizon, hoping and praying to catch a glimpse. There was nothing in the expanse between the light of the manor and us except darkness in varying shades of gray and black. As night had fallen, so had a sparse layer of fog. Though I longed for a clearer view, I hoped that the soupy air was the cover that Charli needed—the invisibility cloak she’d spoken of wanting in her childhood—an extra layer of protection to aid her in her escape.

“I wish I could tell her that we have her mom.”

“Hopefully she got out of there before anyone learned that Mrs. Fitzgerald was missing.”

“I hope.” My hands fisted at my impotence. When had I relied upon hope and wishes? I should fucking be running, meeting her, and saving her. “Hurry, Charli,” I spoke into the darkness.

After a few minutes of country-filled silence, Isaac asked, “Miss Moore?”

Animals scurried and insects sang their songs as my nerves continued to stretch. Frogs croaked a deep, brooding melody while the occasional screech of an owl nearly bolted my blood pressure even higher.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Patrick didn’t know. Only that Charli had a plan.”

Trust me. Her words came back as I once again paced, my shoes becoming covered by a fine layer of red dust. Trust—I’d asked that same thing of Charli many times. Now it was my turn. I fucking hated the wait. It was hell.

No, it was worse than hell.

Hell would be my own damnation. This wasn’t me. I’d willingly sacrifice myself if it were possible. Instead, the one teetering on the edge of purgatory was my love, the amazing woman, the one who owned me heart and soul.

Without her, I was in hell.

“Fifteen minutes,” I said aloud.

“Sir?”

“That’s what Patrick had said. He said it was a fifteen-minute walk from the manor to this road.”

Isaac shook his head. “She’s not walking. She’s running.”

My throat clenched and eyes narrowed as I scanned the horizon. Fog played tricks, erasing images and creating others.

And then it happened.

The crickets and cicadas stopped their songs. The frogs became silenced and birds stilled on the branches above. Even the breeze forgot to blow.

In the distance, coming toward us… I saw her.

She was running as fast as she could.

I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t stand still.

“Sir, no.”

I took off, my feet pounding harder and faster than they ever had on my treadmill. I pushed onward toward her figure. In the foggy darkness, I could make out her hair, a ponytail swinging back and forth as she ran. A goddess. I took in her figure: her curves became a dark, accentuated hourglass against the dim, impressionistic background.

“Charli!” I couldn’t remain silent.

We were too far away from the manor. No one but Charli and Isaac could hear me. Isaac’s footsteps were right behind me. I didn’t give a damn about the guards posted around the property. My Charli was getting closer. She’d done it, entrusted me with her future, her mother’s, and even Chelsea’s.

Chelsea?

I turned back to Isaac. “She’s alone.”

“Sir? Where’s Miss Moore?”

My gut twisted. “I don’t know. I only see one…”

“Nox?” The female voice speaking my name stopped me in my tracks.

Gutted like a fish, I stood paralyzed as the figure came closer.

Her chest heaved with heavy breathing as she fell at my feet.

I lifted her shoulders until she was standing. It wasn’t her face that I saw; instead, it was the necklace, the one Charli was supposed to be wearing. “What the hell? Where is she?”

Chelsea’s chest rattled with sobs and ragged breaths as she leaned toward me. “S-she told me to wear it and to come. S-she said you’d help me.”

The trembling started in my hands as my grip tightened. “Where is she?” My question came too loud.

With the closeness, her features were visible. No longer relieved, a new terror contorted her expression as she tried to back away. Her efforts were futile: my grip of her shoulders was iron. She wasn’t getting away. Her body within my grasp shook as her breaths turned to cries. “I-I’m sorry.”

Blood raged at record speed through my veins, thundering like a growing rumble pounding in my ears.

“Where the fuck is she?”

“Sir?” Isaac’s voice was the calm to my storm. He extended his hand. “Miss Moore? We’ll help you.” She reached for him. “Sir… let go of her.”

Common sense disappeared as I released Chelsea. Nothing mattered besides getting to Charli. One foot in front of the other, I took off running. Visibility limited the path to only a few feet in front of me as I blindly ran the same course Chelsea had come. That wasn’t completely true. Above the ground, below the stars, the fucking manor was a blazing finish line, a shining beacon that with the fog appeared to be outlined in flashes of blue.

What the hell?

Was I the only one hidden by the fog, or were there others? As my feet continued to pound, I didn’t care. No one mattered except Charli. I wasn’t leaving without her.