Rafe
I pull up at Adele’s house, but her truck isn’t there.
My phone buzzes. Adele.
I hit the answer button so hard I nearly break it.
“Oh my God, Rafe. Thank God you answered.” Her voice is thready with a panicked edge.
I whirl from the fridge, instantly alert. “Baby, where are you?”
“At this house.” She rattles off an address. “I thought it was a job offer. It seemed too good to be true. And–” She gasps, out of breath.
“Slow down, princess, talk to me.”
“They locked me in. I can’t get out. The windows are too high up. Rafe, the guy said it’s Gabriel Dieter’s house, and now I’m locked in.”
I’m already out the door, car keys in hand. “Hang on, Adele. Sit tight, stay calm.”
“Rafe, I need you.”
“I’m already coming baby, sit tight. Hold fast.”
Fifteen minutes later, Channing’s tra
