The moment Rayla saw her father’s messages, her breath hitched. Three notifications—all within the past hour. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating for only a second before tapping call.
Asher watched from the edge of her bed, his frown deepening as she pressed the phone to her ear. He’d been waiting to bring up Zack, but one look at Rayla’s face—the way her shoulders tensed, the quiet urgency in her movements—and he’d clamped his mouth shut. Now wasn’t the time. Not when that unshakable fear flickered in her eyes every time she thought about the men in suits, the threats lurking just out of sight.
The line rang once. Twice.
Pick up, pick up, pick up—
“Ray? Sweetie, How are you? I missed you sooo much.” Her father’s voice, warm and steady, flooded the line.
The relief
