Part 21

A foghorn blared through the kitchen, the urgent, grating sound snapping Tawan to her feet. Her phone flared angry red with a warning.

The panic button.

Ira.

"What the hell is that?" Brick's voice crackled in her earpiece.

"Car. Now!" Tawan shouted.

She was already moving. Slamming through the hallway. Wrenching open the front door. She hit the driveway at a full sprint.

Brick burst in from the shadows near the side of the lawn, where he'd been waiting in the bushes for the stalker who never came. For a man his size, he moved fast.

They fell into lockstep halfway down the driveway.

"What happened?" Brick barked.

"Ira hit the panic button."

Tawan threw herself behind the wheel and started the engine before she forced herself to slow down and check the alert's map. South of the bridge.

Her gut clenched.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Her phone vibrated.

Wei — Tracker's activated. Lin's cell signal is offline. Checking Nene's.

Tawan slammed the truck into gear.

"Where we headed?" Brick demanded.

"The bridge." She tossed her phone to him. "Watch for updates."

The phone dinged.

Brick read it out loud. "Wei says Nene's phone is online, but not moving. Nobody's picking up. Ira's tracker remains in proximity to Nene's. What's that mean?"

Tawan took the next turn too fast.

"Not sure yet," she gritted out, pushing through the next light—past yellow, closer to red.

Brick braced against the dash. "Hey, try to get us there in one piece, yeah? You're no good to her dead."

Gone

Tawan didn't ease off. She couldn't. Seconds counted. Milliseconds. The phone dinged.

"Oh...ah, hell." Brick shot her a glance.

"What?"

Two more lights and she'd be on Bridge Road.

Brick's voice was too calm. The kind of calm that meant bad news.

"Nene's phone just went offline."

Tawan's throat tightened.

"Did they go off the bridge?"

"I'll ask." Brick tapped out the question.

Tawan forced herself to focus on the road and not the memory of her mother's car tipping over the railing. Traffic was heavy heading into Kalasin for the final day of the festival. Lucky for them, she was heading out of town, not into it. It felt like a lifetime before Brick finally spoke again.

"Wei says no. Last ping from Ira's necklace shows they were well past the river."

Relief. A shallow, fragile kind of relief, but it let her breathe again. The car wasn't in the water.

That was something.

"South of the bridge..." Brick muttered. "That puts them outside the city. Nothing out there but rice fields, old temples, and dirt roads. Maybe they just got a flat tire or something."

Tawan shook her head. "She wouldn't set off the alert for a flat tire."

Ira was smart. Lin was a skilled driver. If her phone was offline...

"Were they hit?"

Brick stared at the screen. "Wei doesn't know. He says, quote, 'Car isn't equipped with impact alert features.' But, uh..."

Tawan snapped her head toward him. "But what?"

Brick swallowed. "The necklace is on the move. Heading southeast. 100 kilometers per hour."

The steering wheel creaked under Tawan's grip.

"He took her."

"You don't know that," Brick argued. "Maybe they got a ride—"

Tawan slammed her fist against the wheel.

"Dammit!"

She punched the gas. Racing around an overloaded farm truck. Making it through the yellow light.

One more turn.

"Tell Wei to stay on her signal," she barked.

Brick's eyes scanned the phone. "You're two kilometers from Lin's last ping. Thirteen kilometers from the necklace, but it's moving faster than you. Just hit the expressway—heading north."

Tawan gritted her teeth.

"Wei can tell all that?" Brick muttered. "What is he, in a helicopter or something?"

"He's in a van. He was set up at our fallback in Udon Thani. Tell him to get his ass on the road if he hasn't already."

Tawan veered onto Bridge Road and gunned it. She barely spared a glance at the spot burned into her memory. No gaps in the rails. No skid marks. They hadn't gone over. She should feel relieved. But the relief died in her chest when she caught sight of the wrecked SUV. It had flipped onto the other side of the bridge, crumpled like a crushed soda can. The roof was caved in. It rested upside down against a tree like a dead insect.

"Shit."

Tawan was torn apart.

Chase after Ira. Or check on her team.

She couldn't be in two places at once.

Brick gripped the dash. "Is that gas on the road?"

Tawan slammed the brakes. The car skidded to a stop. A puddle of something dark and spreading. Could be gasoline. Could be blood. A shattered phone lay just a few feet away from the back passenger door, which swung lazily open on one hinge. Nene hung upside down. Suspended by her seat belt. Her hands fumbled—weak, shaky—with the buckle.

But Lin—

Where was Lin?

For a split second, Tawan's body screamed at her to run after Ira.

One thing at a time, Tawan.

What's right in front of you?

What comes first?

He Took Her

It was her mother's voice in her head—calm, knowing, unshaken.

"Sometimes, Tawan, life doesn't let you choose. You just have to do what's right in front of you."

"Wei says he's headed this way," Brick reported, his voice tight with urgency. Tawan snapped back to reality.

"Get Nene out of there. Away from the car in case there's a fire."

Brick was already moving.

"I'll get Lin."

Tawan ran for the driver's side. The SUV was wrecked, the metal twisted inward, the front door completely mangled like it had been hit with brute force. Airbags sagged, useless. The damage was too precise. Not a random crash.

Deliberate.

The impact had clipped the front left—just enough to send the car flipping but not enough to kill. Lin had tried to angle away. But the ditch was perfectly placed. Tawan's stomach tightened.

This wasn't bad luck. This was a goddamn ambush. Her gaze swept to the backseat.

Empty. Nothing.

Ira was gone. But not dead.

She had to believe that. She had to know it.

Tawan's hands clenched into fists.

I will find you. I will.

But right now, Lin.

She was half-slumped under the steering wheel, her body half-sprawled over the center console like she'd tried to crawl out and collapsed. Tawan yanked on the door.

Stuck. Bent inward.

The glass had warped but hadn't shattered. She spun around—Brick was jogging back. He'd left Nene leaning against a tree, holding her head, dazed but conscious.

Tawan wrenched open the passenger door.

"Nene?"

Brick's voice was grim. "Your girl looks like she got hit by a goddamn truck, but she's breathing. Fire department's on the way, but festival traffic's a bitch."

Good. Tawan reached in, brushing aside glass.

"Lin."

Lin's eyes cracked open.

"Took you...long enough," she rasped.

Her forehead was swollen with bruises, her neck marked with red burns, and blood dripped from her nose.

"You look like hell," Tawan muttered, forcing a smirk. Lin gave a half-choked laugh. "Oh good. Matches...how I feel."

She tried to move—then winced hard. "He got her. I'm...sorry."

Tawan's chest tightened. "Stay still. Help's on the way."

Lin licked her cracked lips. "Bastard hit us...with a stunner."

Tawan froze. "You get a good look?"

Lin swallowed. "Yeah." Her voice was barely a breath. "It's Suthep Anurak."

Suthep. Tawan's blood ran cold.

Lin's fingers trembled as she pressed on. "Not even trying to hide. Arrogant as hell. Driving a...big truck. Grill guard. Dark blue. Plate...FS 4...something. That's all I saw."

Tawan snapped up her phone. Sent it straight to Wei.

"Tawan."

Nene's voice was hoarse behind her.

Tawan turned at the rasping voice behind her. Nene was leaning against the crumpled bumper, barely standing. Bruised. Pissed. Alive.

"He drugged her."

Brick shot an arm out, like he was afraid she'd drop. "Take it easy, Nong. You probably got a concussion."

"Head's okay. It was the Taser. Damn. Hurts." Nene grimaced. "Don't think Ira was injured, but...he carried her. She was out."

Ira was out. Tawan's grip tightened into fists.

Sirens howled in the distance. The flashing red and blue of a rescue truck cut through the trees beyond the bridge.

Minutes.

She had minutes before she'd be stuck here, wasting time, answering questions she didn't have time for.

"Go..." Lin's voice was raw, but firm. "Wasting...time."

Tawan growled in frustration. She had to go. Now. She turned to Brick. "Stay with them. Make sure they get treated."

Brick frowned. "You sure you don't want backup?"

"I've got backup. Wei's mobile."

The sirens grew louder.

"He isn't here. He's on the road. You need a wingman," Brick said.

"No, I don't." She shook her head. "Not this time."

Brick gave her a hard look. "I know that look. I've seen it before. It ain't a good look."

"You can't come with me."

Brick's jaw tightened—that same look he used to give when he lined up before taking someone down on the field. "You can't stop me. You never could in practice."

Tawan grabbed his arm. "This isn't a game, Brick. You aren't trained. I am. If you go, you'll split my focus, and I can't afford that."

Brick hesitated.

"I need you here." Her voice was steel. "I need to know my team is safe."

Her head was already compromised. She refused to put Brick's life on the line, too. Brick's eyes flicked to her holster. "You telling me your head is totally clear on this?"

"Crystal."

She took a step back. "My only priority is keeping Ira safe. I'll do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes."

Brick studied her for a beat, then exhaled. "Yeah. Seems to me it stopped being just a job about a month ago."

Tawan didn't flinch. She didn't argue. She couldn't. Brick gave a slow nod. "Do what you gotta do, man. I'll handle the cops."

"Follow Lin's lead. She's good at spin."

"I hope that ain't all she's good at."

Tawan was already in the truck, engine roaring to life.

She tore down the road, gravel spitting from the tires. She was over the hill and around the bend before the first flashing rescue lights even reached the bridge.

Where the Hell Was She?

Tawan glanced down at her phone, keeping one eye on the road.

No dots. No tracker. What the hell?!

She took the next curve too fast. Sunlight glinted off metal in the middle of the road a split second before she heard the pop, pop, pop, pop!of blown tires.

Time skipped and stuttered around Ira. She couldn't open her eyes. She wanted to open her eyes. She had to open her eyes.

Wake up.

There was music. Loud. Insistent. Familiar.

The beat pounded in her skull. It was... It was one of hers.

"You Promised Me."

A man was singing.

"You're my love story, baby. Just say yes, baby. We'll stay...this way, baby...just you and me."

His voice was high. A tenor.

"Promise me our love story, we will make historrrryyy, baaaabyyyyy."

He belted the crescendo louder and louder until it reverberated in her head. He had a good voice. Clear. Strong. The kind of voice that crooned. Ira's head bumped against something hard and cold.

A window.

She was still in the car. With...who?

Brace!

Lin's voice echoed in her head.

The stalker found you.

The thought looped over and over. It made her heart thump. Which made her head pound. Her stomach churned and sent a burning protest up her throat.

Sick.

She was going to be...sick.

She tried to sit up.

Couldn't.

Why couldn't she move?

Drugged.

That idea chased the rest of her jumbled thoughts through the maze of her mind. She forced her eyes open. She was slumped against the car window.

Front seat. Wrong.

She was in the back seat before.

She remembered...remembered...

Crash.

There was... Something hit. The car turned over... She moaned. Trees. Road. Flashing by. A sign. Too fast to read. Highway. It was hot. Sun hit her face. Made her sweat. She managed to turn her head to the side, away from the light.

The driver tapped out the beat on the steering wheel. It wasn't Tawan. This guy...wasn't Tawan. He looked slick. Big. Not a sexy big. Scary big. Familiar.

The car swerved. Her head swam.

Who was he?

Her stomach heaved. Bile burned her throat. She choked on it. Coughs too weak to clear it. Drool slid down her chin. The driver glanced over, eyes widening.

"Oh, hey. Don't do that. Shit."

The truck slowed. Stopped. Her head swirled. Her stomach twisted. She heaved.

"Hang on. I've got something that'll help."

The man leaned close. Reaching behind her seat. She wanted to undo the seat belt. Open the door.

Run.

She was just so heavy. So tired.

So...

Another heave.

Her body slid. The seat belt bit into her bruised chest. She moaned. His hands grabbed her arm.

Hot. Too hot.

She tried to push him away.

"It'll be better for you if you sleep through this part."

His voice was soft. Deceptive. Something bit her upper arm. Fire spread. Neck. Chest. Everywhere. She'd never liked drugs. Didn't use them. She opened her mouth to say so.

But then...It was too hard to find the...Words.

Darkness reached out. Shadowy fingers. Dragged Ira back into oblivion.

While he was waiting for Wei to catch the hell up, Tawan paced the dirt lot of a roadside small restaurant just outside Kalasin. She'd been stuck at the damn dive for over an hour, and she'd worn a path through the dust and her patience. She checked the time.

Nope. Not one hour. Almost two hours.

Two fucking hours while Ira's tracking dot moved farther and farther away. It was time for something drastic.

She eyed one of the three motorcycles parked by the restaurant—an old blue Honda Wave. She could "borrow" it. She walked slowly behind it, temptation pulling at her like a dog on a leash. It would be a stupid thing to do. It wouldn't do any good in the long run. She clenched her teeth and went through all the reasons why stealing a ride would actually slow her down, not speed her up. People tended to object when their bikes got stolen. They called the police.

The last thing she needed was cops chasing after her. Or worse, catching her. Winding up in a Thai jail could get Ira killed.

Despite her urgent need to get on the road, she knew she didn't need just any ride. She needed Wei's van because the tracking app was glitching. The dot that represented her life-line to Ira would disappear, then reappear in the middle of a rice field or a pond or a village road, then blip off again, only to show up several kilometers down the road.

Still. The Honda Wave sat there. Waiting.

"Dammit."

She paced closer to it, impatience clawing at her better judgment. The door to the restaurant swung open, and a middle-aged woman came out, keys in hand. She watched Tawan with wary eyes as she hurried to the bike, swung onto it, and rode away. Tawan scowled at the empty spot where the bike had been, then checked the time.

Again.

Then she texted Wei.

Again.

Tawan — ETA?

She waited a few seconds. No response.

Tawan — I'm taking a bike if you're not here in five.

As if summoned, Wei's black van finally pulled into the parking lot. Slow. Careful. Like an old uncle driving his grandkids to the market. Tawan crossed to the driver's side door and gestured for Wei to get out.

"You drive like an old monk on alms round."

"I exceeded the speed limit the entire way." Wei circled around to the passenger side and climbed in. "Besides, this mobile unit contains a lot of sensitive equipment that we need. You were the one who threatened to cut off my hand if I broke any of it."

Tawan ignored him and flicked through the dashboard touchscreen map.

"What's up with the tracker? It keeps glitching."

"It's the signal." Wei picked up a tablet from the center console. "It works off cell towers, which are spread farther apart out here. The last solid signal places her somewhere east of Roi Et, on Highway 23."

"When was that?"

"A little over an hour ago." Wei tapped on the tablet. "They were halfway through town then. Good cell coverage there."

"What about now? How long would it take to drive through town?" Tawan studied the map. The highway bypassed the main city.

"About fifteen minutes."

Tawan exhaled sharply. "So what you're saying is they're now an hour and a half ahead of us, somewhere between Roi Et and Yasothon, heading east. That's what you're saying."

"No, I'm saying that's where they were when the app traced a solid ping. If you calculate their rate of speed at the time, traffic conditions, plus—"

"Wei. I need a plan, not a fucking math problem."

"Oh... right." Wei blinked at her. "Take the exit for Highway 204 up ahead. If we push it, we can cut them off near Amnat Charoen. Especially since you're driving, and you don't care about the expensive equipment in the back."

"I care."

Tawan took the sharp exit at military speed. Wei swore and clutched the Oh God handle.

"Quit complaining," Tawan said. "You're fine. The equipment's fine. I know you have it all locked down back there."

"Electronics don't like to be jiggled," Wei muttered.

"Electronics or you?"

"Both!" Wei squealed as they swerved onto the narrow two-lane road.

An hour later, they were still speeding through a part of Isaan that time had forgotten. On the plus side, nobody was in her way—including the police.

"How far now?" Tawan asked.

"There's a serious lack of infrastructure in some parts of this country." Wei sounded indignant.

"I don't give a shit about the infrastructure. Am I still heading the right way or not?"

"Hang on. I'm boosting the signal." Wei pulled a portable keyboard out of the glove compartment and started typing furiously.

A pause.

Then— "Oh...shit."

Tawan's stomach dropped. "Shit? What's 'oh shit' mean?"

"I can't get a lock on her."

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It's... I'm not sure." Wei's tap-tap-tapping sped up. "I need to boost the signal."

"You just did that."

"I need more. We need to pull over," Wei said urgently.

Tawan slammed her fist against the steering wheel. "We don't have time to pull over!"

"We have to."

The quiet panic in Wei's voice made Tawan's need to argue disappear.

"Where?"

"There's a gas station ahead, right off the highway."

Tawan squinted at the endless fields and empty road. "There's no gas stations out here. There's cow trails and rice paddies."

"There's one. Trust me. It's a farm supply station at the intersection of Highway 204 and Route 23. They'll have internet. I can boost off their system."

"What good does that do us if Ira's signal isn't showing up?"

"If we stop somewhere, I can piggyback onto the cell towers. It'll let me access a secondary tracking routine for a more accurate location. I've been running probabilities ever since—never mind. Just try not to take the bumps too fast."

Wei unbuckled his seat belt and slid into the back of the van. "I need the hard drive for this."

Tawan forced herself to ease off the accelerator. The "gas station" was a run-down roadside shop, surrounded by overgrown grass and rusted-out tractors. It looked deserted.

There were two ancient fuel pumps out front—one regular, one diesel—and a single truck, parked at an angle. The shadowy figure inside the store moved behind a dirty, grime-covered window. Tawan pulled up to the front pump but kept the engine running.

"The fifties want their store back, Wei."

Tawan climbed into the back of the van where Wei was hunched over a cluster of monitors. The screens flickered with data—one showed the tracking app, another displayed a satellite map of Isaan, and the third was a blur of scrolling code that moved so fast it gave her a headache.

Tawan's jaw clenched. "You got a solid lock now?"

"Not... exactly." Wei's fingers flew across three keyboards, eyes darting between screens. The map zoomed out to show all of Thailand, then began slowly zooming back in.

Tawan's patience frayed. "Not exactly?"

She turned to the tracking app. There should have been five dots. Two of them—Annie and Nene—had gone offline after the crash.

There were only two left. Wei's dot. Her dot.

No Ira. A cold pit formed in her stomach.

"Where's her dot, Wei? You said stopping here would make it easier to find her."

"It should have. It did. Except it's not there." Wei pointed at the blur of text racing across the third monitor. "I piggybacked onto the gas station's network and boosted the satellite link. With it, I should be able to triangulate her general location based on signal pings from populated areas."

"Great. So where the hell is she?"

Wei hesitated. Then he met her eyes. "I can't find her."

Tawan's stomach dropped.

"What do you mean you can't find her?" she demanded.

Wei swallowed. "The signal is gone. This isn't a blip or a fluctuation. It's not a malfunction." Wei looked up at her. "I don't know where she is."

Ira snuggled under silky-soft covers, reveling in the gentle caress of the sheets against her bare skin. She loved slow, sluggish Sunday mornings.

She hovered in that dreamy space between asleep and awake, where her body was weightless, relaxed, utterly at peace. The warmth that surrounded her was comforting, familiar. Last night had been...

She smiled softly.

She could still feel Tawan's hands, the heat of her body pressing against hers. The way Tawan had whispered her name like it was a prayer. A flicker of something sharp cut through the warmth.

Wake up.

Ira frowned. Why did someone's voice sound so urgent?

The stalker found you.

The words slammed into her like a hammer to the chest. Her pulse skyrocketed. A rush of adrenaline burned away the last wisps of sleep as memories flashed in and out like a stuttering film reel.

The crash.

The big man with angry eyebrows and eyes that burned too bright. She had been trapped in the wrecked car, her head spinning, her limbs too heavy to move.

He had caressed her face, murmuring words she couldn't quite process. He had called her by her real name. Then he had shot her.

Ira's breath hitched. Her hand flew to her upper arm, fingers tracing over the raised, itchy bump.

Drugged. He had drugged her.

After that... nothing.

No Nene. No Lin.

No Tawan.

Panic coiled in her chest like a living thing.

She jerked upright, disentangling herself from the sheets. Her head spun violently, her vision tilting, but she forced herself to stay upright.

"Nene? Lin?" Her voice was a dry, cracked whisper. Her tongue felt like sandpaper. She swallowed, throat raw, burning.

"Tawan?"

Silence. A tremor crawled down her spine as reality slammed into her. She had been taken.

She fought to steady her breathing, to force herself into rational thinking. Panicking would get her nowhere.

Ira braced herself against the headboard, scanning her surroundings. A hotel room. A very nice one.

Dark wood furniture. Red and gold drapes. A sitting area to the left, a bathroom door on the right. Plush gold carpeting.

It all seemed... almost normal. Except...

She turned her head toward the entrance. The wall and door leading outside were white. Unfinished.

She frowned. What kind of hotel was this?

A sharp pain radiated down her chest. She winced and ran her hand along the diagonal bruise where the seatbelt had dug into her skin during the crash. Then her fingers froze. A sickening chill curled in her stomach. She was naked. All she wore was the necklace Tawan had given her... And the underwear Tawan had thrown at her. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Oh, God.

When? This morning? How long had she been here? Where was here?

A soft, high-pitched moan escaped her lips as she fisted the panic button with both hands and squeezed. Nothing happened. She had known it wouldn't make noise. It wasn't supposed to.

But still... nothing. She had pushed the button before. Hadn't she? Yes. More than once. Tawan hadn't come. Her breath hitched. Was it broken? If it was, did Tawan even know she was gone?

Icy fingers of terror squeezed her from the inside out. She rocked back and forth, trying to shake them off, but the motion only made it worse. It made her feel out of control. Like a lost child.

Stop. Breathe. Think.

Lin had told her that if she was ever taken, she had to look around. Really see. Every room had weapons. Every room had a way out. Even prison cells had a weakness. Lin had said it like she spoke from experience. Ira forced herself to look. The lamps on either side of the bed cast a warm glow, but they were too small to be weapons. No phone. No TV. No clock. Nothing she could pick up and throw. Except pillows. The curtains were closed. She couldn't tell if it was day or night.

It had been late morning when she left Kalasin, but she'd have to look out the window to get an idea of how much time had passed. Then she saw it. A single red rose lay on the pillow next to her.

Like the one at Kate's house. Like the ones left for her at the studio. Like the ones in her dressing room.

The icy grip of fear tightened around her ribs.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

Lin had said don't just look. Listen. Smell. Feel. Ira sniffed. The air smelled...clean. Like her apartment after the housekeeper had gone. Like lemon furniture polish. No dust on the furniture. No stains on the covers. No trash on the dresser. Everything was pristine. Too pristine. She listened. Hard. Nothing. No TV playing down the hall. No footsteps. No voices. No life.

What kind of hotel was completely silent? What kind of stalker would kidnap her and then leave her alone? A stupid one. But she knew from everything Tawan had told her...

Her stalker wasn't stupid. She wasn't alone. There were probably cameras. The psycho could be watching her right now. Like Tawan watched her security monitors. The thought made her teeth rattle. She balled her fists around the covers and pulled them up to her chin. She knew hiding in bed wasn't what Lin had in mind when she'd said "look around."

Lin would pound on the walls. Lin would knock holes in everything until she found a way out. Lin was a badass.

Ira wasn't. She was an entertainer. A socialite. She didn't have any skills that didn't involve a stage. Jesus, she was useless. Tears burned her eyes.

That was silly talk, as Wisanu would say.

Ridiculously self-indulgent, Kate would have told her.

Kate focused on the work. It was what Ira had always admired most about her.

Wisanu was the calm one. Kate was the dedicated one. Ying was the kind one.

What did that make Ira? The weak one?

No. Hell no.

She might not have Lin's combat skills, but that didn't make her weak. She had survived this long, hadn't she? She had fought, resisted, endured. She wasn't going to stop now.

Ira slid slowly out of bed, dragging the duvet with her. She refused to wander around naked.

Where were her clothes?

Had that psycho stripped her to keep her from leaving? If that was his plan, he'd seriously underestimated her. She had no problem screaming as she ran down the busiest street in Bangkok completely naked if it meant getting free. Her T-shirt and jeans were nowhere in sight. She scanned the room, heart hammering.

A chair. A table. A closet.

She moved to the closet and yanked it open. Inside, she found a white robe with a hotel logo on it.

Dusit Thani Hotel. Her pulse spiked. Bangkok.

He'd taken her to Bangkok? No. That didn't make sense.

She couldn't have been out long enough for that. Could she?

She dropped the duvet and threw on the robe, tying it tightly at the waist. It draped all the way to the tops of her feet, but she still felt exposed. With that done, she hurried to the window and yanked the curtain back.

Her breath caught in her throat. A city street. Trees. Tuk-tuks. Neon signs in Thai and English.

Bangkok.

A rush of relief flooded her chest. If she was in Bangkok, she could find a way out. She could scream. Someone would hear her. Someone would—

Wait. Something was wrong. She squinted. The street wasn't moving. No people. No shifting light. No flickering neon signs. It was too perfect. Too still.

No. No, no, no.

She stepped closer, her fingers trembling as she reached out and pressed her hand to the glass. It wasn't glass. It was flat. Cold. Her stomach twisted. She leaned in.

Dots. Colored dots. A print.

It was a fake window. The realization hit her like a truck. She slammed her fists against it.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

The wooden panel behind the print creaked under her blows, but didn't break. She shoved at it with all her weight. It didn't budge.

Trapped.

Ira turned in a circle, taking everything in. The luxury she had noticed before? It wasn't real. The dresser drawers were false fronts. The nightstand was cheap laminate, edges peeling. The lamp had a price tag on the back. 199 baht. Secondhand.

Everything was fake. Her stomach twisted. She bolted toward the door. It opened before she could reach it.

He was there. Suthep Anurak. The stuntman. The psycho. She recognized him instantly from the profile Tawan had shown her. He was bigger. Built like a wrecking ball. And looking at her like she was a prize. A thrill of pure terror raced down her spine.

His smile deepened. Dimples. They should have made him look friendly. Instead, they made her want to vomit. His eyes were bright. Too bright.

His expression was...

Loving. Like he was happy to see her. Too happy.

He stepped inside, holding a plastic grocery bag like he was just some normal guy back from running errands.

"Ira."

Her stomach clenched. She had never hated the sound of her own name before. His smile widened.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up," he said, his voice soft, soothing. Mocking.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long."

Ira shook her head, but she wasn't sure if it was an answer to his question or a denial that he was there.

"Suthep?" Her voice came out weak, unsteady. She hated it.

His dimples deepened, and his eyes crinkled with pleasure, like he was happy to hear his name from her lips.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "There are snacks in the fridge."

The smooth tenor of his voice tickled something deep in her memory. A flash of Kate's last movie set. The catering table. The hum of voices.

Would you like to go get some coffee after? I know a great little café just down the street.

That voice. His voice. Oh, my God. She remembered him. He had been nice. But it had been a busy day. So many people. So much activity. Had she even answered him? She couldn't remember.

Suthep's pleased expression faltered as he watched her process.

"What's the matter?" he asked, a small frown forming. "You look pale."

Ira swallowed hard. She had to keep him calm. She had to keep him talking.

"Uh... I... I'm... thirsty." Her voice cracked on the last word.

His frown deepened, but there was genuine concern in his eyes.

"Go on, sweet thing, sit down. I'll get you some water."

It was the kind of thing a friend would say. She watched him carefully. The man standing between her and freedom shut the door and dropped the plastic bag he had been carrying onto a nearby table. Then he moved toward her. With every step he took, the room grew smaller and smaller until there was no space left. No room to move. No room to breathe. He leaned in, his scent filling the air. Then he kissed her cheek. Ira jerked away.

A spark of anger flashed in his eyes.

"What's the matter with you?"

Calm. She had to stay calm. She couldn't fight him. He was bigger. Stronger. He could overpower her without even trying. She had to be smart. Keep him talking.

"Just... sleepy." She forced a small, stiff smile. "Wh... where are we?"

He relaxed again, his expression softening into something disturbingly fond.

"The first pit stop." His voice was proud. "Nice, huh?"

Did he really think she would compliment him on his choice of prison? Ira forced herself to nod slightly.

His eyes warmed.

"I know Romance in Bangkok is your favorite movie."

She stared at him. What?

"Not many people know they never tore down the set. It's just been sitting here for years," he continued, his voice full of excitement. "Thought you'd like a behind-the-scenes look."

"Romance in Bangkok?" she echoed dumbly. It was her favorite movie. And he had turned it into a prison. She had no idea what to say.

"I... it looks... familiar."

It was a lie. Her mind was spinning. Why would he bring her here? Why here? His pleased smile widened.

"It should. Nothing's changed here since then."

Then his eyes raked over her, slowly, deliberately. Her stomach twisted.

"Can't say the same for you, though."

He reached out and touched a lock of her hair.

Ira flinched. His gaze darkened.

"Stop acting like I'm some kind of creepy stranger." His voice snapped like a whip. "I'm not going to hurt you. We've been friends a long time."

He took a step closer. His presence loomed. His eyes narrowed. The warmth was gone. The delusion burned hot.

"You remember the day we met," he said, his voice hard, demanding.

"Tell me."

He was testing her. She swallowed. Her tongue felt thick. Dry.

"You... asked me to... coffee."

His expression shifted. His smile returned. Like a switch had flipped.

"That's right."

He leaned back, satisfied.

"I knew you'd remember."

His voice turned soft again.

"We had a real connection that day. I think we both knew we had something special."

No. No, no, no. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs refused to work. Normally, when she ran into this kind of crazy, there were bodyguards. There was Tawan. Her fingers curled around the necklace. Nothing happened. No alarms. No Tawan kicking down the door. She was alone.

Suthep's gaze flicked to her hair. His lips twisted.

"I know that shitty color wasn't your fault." His voice dripped with disgust.

"They tried to hide you from me." His eyes softened again.

"Don't worry. I brought something to fix it."

He moved past her, like he was just some guy coming home to his girlfriend. Like this was normal.

"I also brought you a change of clothes." He smiled.

"I know you hated that T-shirt. It was way too plain." His eyes gleamed.

"My sweet girl likes to sparkle."

No. No, no, no. Ira gripped the robe tighter. Her mind screamed at her to say something. To keep him distracted. To buy herself time. But she was frozen. She could barely breathe. She could barely think. Trapped.

Think of it like a show, Ira told herself. You're onstage. You can entertain any audience. That's all he is. An audience. She had performed in front of thousands. She had charmed executives, journalists, and fans alike. She could play this role. She had to.

Suthep beckoned. "Sit down. You can have a snack before you fix your hair. It's not much. We don't have a lot of time. It took you longer to wake up than I anticipated."

Ira's stomach twisted, but she forced a small, hesitant smile. "We... time for what?"

"To hit the road."

His voice was calm. Certain. Like he had thought this through for years. "You can't stay this close to your old life."

He shook his head, as if disappointed. "It won't want to let you go, and we both know you need to leave it behind." His words were too close to something she had thought herself.

Something that had lingered at the edges of her mind for months.Tears stung her eyes. Had she been that easy to read? That transparent? Had this psycho picked up on something she hadn't even fully grasped herself? She had been lonely. That was true. She had thought it meant she wanted a new life. That was bullshit. She didn't want to leave her life behind.

She wanted to expand it. She wanted real, meaningful connections.

She had found those working with Kate on her small venue shows. She had found them writing songs with Ying.

She had found them in Kalasin. She had found them with Tawan. She didn't want to leave that—any of it—behind. Ever.

Where are you, Tawan? I need you.

Tawan pulled onto the shoulder of a narrow road that wound around Lam Pao Reservoir and killed the engine. They had driven as far east as they could go without crossing into Mukdahan, unless they wanted to drive straight into the water. The landscape stretched out in every direction—dense jungle, scattered rice fields, and the occasional fishing hut balanced on wooden stilts.

They were about 160 kilometers from Khon Kaen, roughly five kilometers west of Ban Non Sawan, a small village where the locals probably knew everyone's business.

There were no hotels, no big markets, no signs of modern development. Just farmland, hills, and open space.

Why the hell had Suthep brought Ira here?

Tawan moved to the back of the van, where Wei was hunched over his array of monitors.

"Princess Point? Really?" she muttered.

Wei exhaled through his nose. "I know. Ironic, isn't it?" He pointed at the screen, where a red circle marked an area deep in the countryside. "According to the last ping, she's somewhere within this eight-kilometer radius. If she'd moved beyond that, she would have triggered signals from one of these towers." His finger tapped three different locations. "She didn't. That means she's stopped."

Tawan crossed her arms. "So why are we still sitting here?"

Wei flicked to another screen, where the map displayed towers and their coverage zones. "See this?" He zoomed in. "These towers give us decent triangulation. The infrastructure here is weak—cell signals barely reach some of these areas—but that works to our advantage. It helps narrow things down."

"Wei...the point?"

Wei turned to her, eyes serious. "The point is, the signal wasn't lost. It was cut."

Tawan's pulse spiked. "Meaning?"

Wei hesitated, then said, "It means one of two things. One—he took her inside a structure with thick walls. Concrete, steel, something that blocks signals. Or..."

Tawan's grip tightened on the edge of the seat. "Or?"

Wei met her gaze. "Or he figured out the necklace was a tracker and ditched it."

A sharp, cold weight settled in Tawan's stomach.

"Shit."

If Suthep knew about the tracker, he could've done anything. Tied it to a buffalo. Thrown it in the reservoir. Dropped it in a passing pickup truck headed to another province. If that had happened, he was already two steps ahead. And they were running blind.

Wei was still analyzing the data, fingers moving over the keyboard in rapid strokes. "I can rule out the buffalo theory. If it had been attached to a live animal, the movement would have been erratic. But the tracker was following a steady trajectory before it vanished. That suggests he left it somewhere deliberately."

Tawan rubbed a hand over her face, willing herself to stay focused. "Where was the last confirmed ping?"

Wei pointed at the screen. "Near a farm, right at the edge of this radius. If he ditched the tracker, it's probably there."

Tawan clenched her jaw. "It all comes down to one question: Does Suthep know the necklace is a tracker?"

Wei exhaled sharply. "There's no way to know for sure." Tawan stared at the glowing red dot on the screen, then out into the dark countryside beyond the windshield.

"Then we assume it's still with Ira." It was the only scenario she could live with.

And we all know what 'assume' means." Wei shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of moving forward without data to rely on. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, frustration evident in the sharp tap of his keys.

"It's the only lead we have," Tawan said, her tone clipped as she pushed down the restless anxiety clawing at her chest. Do the job. Follow the steps. Don't think about what might be happening to her. "Besides, the simplest answer is usually the right one. He just grabbed her. He's feeling superior. He finally has what he wants, and now he's executing his plan."

Tawan paced to the back of the van, her movements quick, controlled. "He didn't plan much beyond getting away and tucking her in somewhere safe. He's had this route in mind for a while, but I don't think he expected her to be tagged. So he's stopped at his hideout for the night. Maybe it's his final destination. That's why the signal cut off. What's around here?"

Wei turned to another monitor and began typing furiously. "That's why I had you pull over."

A satellite map of the surrounding area popped up, dotted with red markers. "These are the locations that match our criteria. This Province is mostly farmland, isolated pockets of villages and towns, and long stretches of nothing. If he's smart, he's gone somewhere people won't be looking."

He gestured at the dots. "There's a couple of small guesthouses, some farmhouses, and a local bus station. We can eliminate the guesthouses because someone would notice a man dragging an unconscious woman inside."

Three dots disappeared from the map. Tawan exhaled sharply. "That narrows it down."

"Actually, it does, if you consider how many individual rooms we won't need to search."

Tawan studied the remaining dots, forcing herself into the twisted mindset of the stalker. Where would he take Ira?

"He wouldn't risk bringing her anywhere near a town, even a small one. If she's conscious, she'd scream. If she's unconscious, someone would still see them." She rubbed a hand over her jaw. "He'd want control. No chance of interference."

Wei nodded. "Agreed." He pressed a few more buttons, and only two red dots remained.

He pointed to one northeast of their position. "This was an old sugarcane farm. The original house burned down years ago, but the storage warehouse and a few outbuildings are still standing. The warehouse was built to store harvested cane, so it's made of thick concrete—solid enough to block cell signals."

Tawan studied the satellite image on the monitor. "It's hard to tell the exact scale from an overhead shot. What's the other location?"

Wei adjusted the zoom and pointed at another dot on the map. "An abandoned textile factory. That's why we stopped here. It's up ahead on the left. Built back in the '60s, thick concrete walls, steel beams. They made silk fabric here before the industry died out. Now, it's just a relic. From what I found online, urban explorers and amateur photographers like to shoot there during the day. They all complain about the lack of cell coverage."

Tawan squinted at the screen, analyzing the location. The aerial shot showed a large brick-and-concrete building being reclaimed by nature. Overgrown vines crept up the structure, and the entrance drive curved behind a cluster of dense trees.

"It's isolated enough," she murmured. "But if it's a place that gets visitors, even occasionally..."

"There hasn't been an official shoot or exploration meetup in months," Wei said. "At least, nothing documented. The owner rents it out for a small fee, but it's been pretty dead since the last group of explorers got chased off by a nest of hornets."

Tawan exhaled. "Alright. What about the other location? The farm?"

Wei tapped on the keyboard, shifting the satellite view. "It used to be a sugarcane plantation. The original house burned down years ago, but the processing facility and a couple of outbuildings are still standing. The land was sold to a developer a decade back, but they haven't touched it. Probably waiting for land values to go up before they break ground."

Tawan snorted. "Or they're just holding onto it for the apocalypse."

The farm structures weren't as hidden as the textile factory. They were far enough from the main roads to avoid attention, but if someone happened to drive by and look in the right direction, they'd see the buildings.

Still.

A spark of instinct flared in Tawan's gut. The location was remote, but not so distant that it'd be a struggle for Suthep to bring in supplies. There were no nearby homes, no nosy neighbors. The roads weren't busy, and the surrounding fields meant less accidental traffic.

"I'm leaning toward the farm," she said. "But since we're here, I might as well check out the factory first."

Wei nodded, already flipping to another screen. "I'll keep digging into the farm's history, see if there's been any activity in the past few months. I'll also cross-check any transactions for bulk supplies—food, fuel, anything that would indicate long-term stay prep."

Tawan climbed out the back of the van and shut the door. The air was thick with humidity, the scent of damp earth mixing with the faint smokiness of distant burning fields. There was no traffic. No lights. Just the chirping of crickets and the distant croak of a bullfrog.

A rustle in the trees caught her attention. A stray dog—or maybe a civet—watched her from the underbrush, its eyes reflecting the moonlight. It was curious, but not threatened. She didn't have time to return the stare.

She double-timed it down the narrow dirt road and around the bend.

It didn't take long to reach the entrance of the old textile factory. A faded sign hung from rusted chains, barely legible in the dim light. The driveway was a mess of uneven gravel, weeds creeping between the stones. Tire tracks marred the dirt, but none of them looked fresh.

She stayed in the shadows, scanning the perimeter. If Suthep was here, he'd be watching.

The place was a relic from a different era—once a thriving silk production plant, now an abandoned skeleton of cracked brick and rusted steel. Part of the roof had collapsed inward, leaving gaping holes for the sky to reclaim. The loading dock stairs were warped and broken, the front doors stained with years of neglect.

She crept closer, her footsteps soundless.

The factory had been important once. It had provided jobs, security, livelihoods. Now, it was just another forgotten piece of history, left to rot.

She checked the ground near the entrance. No scuff marks from dragged feet. No fresh footprints in the dirt. No signs of movement.

No electric poles. No water access.

This place wasn't livable.

Suthep had taken Ira because he was obsessed. This was a man who left flowers in dressing rooms, who wrote love letters. He thought he was her savior, her protector.

He wouldn't bring her somewhere like this. This wasn't—his brain cramped—romantic.

They were in the wrong place.