Tyler’s pov
Gravel sprayed in a white arc so as smoke from the exhaust and dust as I yanked the wheel and spun the car back toward town. The tires screamed. My pulse screamed louder.
The photo burned in my head — Alexis, bound, bleeding, wide-eyed — and that jersey behind her. My jersey. The same one I’d bled and sweated in during my first game. Knife straight through the logo like they wanted to stab me in the heart.
I know I have enemies but it shouldn’t have gotten to this point.
Erica’s breathing was fast, erratic.
“We have to go to the police.”
“The police will waste time,” I bit out. “We need to get to her now.”
“But what if—”
“No what-ifs,” I said, gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles ached.
“She’s alive in that photo. That means we have a window.”
Erica looked out th
