Midnight Abduction
Author
Nichole Severn
Reads
19.9K
Chapters
16
Prologue
They warned him not to go to the police.
He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, he tried to ignore the gut-wrenching pain at the base of his skull where the kidnapper had slammed him into his kitchen floor and knocked him unconscious. Owen. Olivia. They were out there. Alone. Scared. He hadn’t been strong enough to protect them, but he wasn’t going to stop trying to find them. Not until he got them back.
A wave of dizziness tilted the world on its axis, and he collided with a wooden street pole. Shoulder-length hair blocked his vision as he fought to regain balance. He’d woken up a little less than fifteen minutes ago, started chasing after the taillights of the SUV as it’d sped down the unpaved road leading into town. He could still taste the dirt in his mouth. They couldn’t have gotten far. Someone had to have seen something…
Humidity settled deep into his lungs despite the dropping temperatures, sweat beading at his temples as he pushed himself upright. Moonlight beamed down on him, exhaustion pulling at every muscle in his body, but he had to keep going. He had to find his kids. They were all he had left. All that mattered.
Colorless, worn mom-and-pop stores lining the town’s main street blurred in his vision.
A small group of teenagers—at least what looked like teenagers—gathered around a single point on the sidewalk ahead. The kidnapper had sped into town from his property just on the outskirts, and there were only so many roads that would get the bastard out. Maybe someone in the group could point him in the right direction. He latched on to a kid brushing past him by the collar. “Did you see a black SUV speed through here?”
The boy—sixteen, seventeen—shook his head and pulled away. “Get off me, man.”
The echo of voices pierced through the ringing in his ears as the circle of teens closed in on itself in front of Sevierville’s oldest hardware store. His lungs burned with shallow breaths as he searched the streets from his position in the middle of the sidewalk. Someone had to have seen something. Anything. He needed—
“She’s bleeding!” a girl said. “Someone call for an ambulance!”
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Someone had been hurt? Pushing through the circle of onlookers, he caught sight of pink pajama pants and bright purple toenails. He surrendered to the panic as recognition flared. His heart threatened to burst straight out of his chest as he lunged for the unconscious six-year-old girl sprawled across the pavement. Pain shot through his knees as he scooped her into his arms. “Olivia!”
