And what if they were the only one who knew where she was?
She would die in here—slowly starving to death.
It was entirely possible she’d never be found.
She shook the thought away, refusing to entertain it. She needed to stay focused. Needed to stay strong, think positive thoughts, and stick with the plan, no matter how flimsy it appeared on the surface.
Twelve minutes past the hour she was losing the battle against total despair. Her body sagged with defeat, her head hung low, as the sting of hopelessness burned deep in her throat. How had she come so far, risen so high, only to end up filthy, alone, and forgotten?
She sank to the ground. It was over. She’d waited too long, and now she would die with no one ever knowing the truth of what had really happened to her or who was responsible for abducting her.
Her list of unknown suspects was infinite.
Her list of known suspects was comparatively shorter.
Aster, Ryan, Layla, Ira, James, Paul, even Tommy—she couldn’t afford the luxury of ruling anyone out. Though she had a hard time believing Tommy was behind it. He was too starstruck, too in awe of her, to pull something like that. Still, maybe kissing him had been a mistake. She’d let down her guard and allowed herself to relax and allow her West Virginia accent to slip through. Had Tommy mistaken the moment of vulnerability for weakness? And because of it, had he decided to follow her, kidnap her, and keep her locked up in this stinky, filthy, eight-by-ten cell? And if so, to what end?
Or maybe it wasn’t Tommy at all. Maybe while she’d been making her plans, Ryan and Aster had been busy making their own. Had she fooled herself into thinking she was in charge, when all the while they’d been plotting against her?
And what about Layla? Was this some messed-up revenge plot she’d hatched because of that stupid restraining order Paul served her? It seemed like such a disproportionate act, but from what she’d seen, the girl had enough of a dark side, Madison would be a fool to rule her out.
Even Ira—greedy, ruthless, vainglorious Ira. Was it possible he was involved—maybe even conspiring with James? Either way, Madison had no doubt Ira was playing it up in the press. A star of her caliber disappearing from one of his clubs would ensure his pl
ace in the tabloid news cycle for many years to come.
But Paul . . . Madison shook her head in denial. She refused to believe it. Paul was the keeper of her secrets—the only one who knew the truth of her past. Together they’d conspired to turn small-time trailer-park MaryDella into big-time Hollywood star Madison. Together they’d covered up evidence that, if discovered, would’ve led her down an entirely different path. It couldn’t be Paul. He would never do that to her. But, in the event that it was, then she truly was doomed. There wasn’t a single person on the planet who would ever root for her as hard as he did. If he’d decided to turn on her now, then she literally didn’t have a single real friend left in the world.
Truth was, it could be any of them or none of them. Hell, it could even be that annoying journalist Trena Moretti. Maybe she’d gotten so tired of hunting down stories that she decided to create one of her own.
At the moment, all that mattered was getting out of this place. Once that was behind her, then Madison could start the process of hunting down those responsible and making them pay in ways they’d never see coming.
The screech of scraping metal dragged her away from her thoughts and back to the present, as Madison rose and sprang into position.
The lights still hadn’t come on, and no one even tried to open the slot, but the next thing she knew, the door flew open and Madison rushed toward the faceless dark figure that stood in the entry, haloed by light.
The shard of mirror clutched in her fist, she brought it down hard on the first bit of flesh she could find.
“Fuck!” The scream seemed to reverberate throughout the small space, but the competing sound of Madison’s heart slamming hard in her chest and the rush of blood pounding in her ears made it impossible to discern if her captor was male or female.
The important thing was, her plan had worked.
Madison was just inches away from escape.
Spotting an opening, she raced toward the light.
She took one step. Then another. The next one would free her.
Her foot hit the ground just as the other one lifted. Her muscles coiled, about to propel her toward safety, when she felt a sharp, stinging jab at her thigh and the next thing she knew she was stumbling, falling, spiraling headfirst into a world of permanent midnight.
THIRTY-FOUR
CALLING ALL ANGELS
Layla had acted impulsively. Hadn’t even considered the fact that she wasn’t a Luna, which also meant she wasn’t allowed to see Valentina. She’d just finished rubbing antibacterial gel onto her hands and adjusted her mask, when the nurse promptly stopped her from entering.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Immediate family only.”
Layla looked at Mateo, tempted to lie and say they were siblings, cousins, husband and wife, but the skeptical nurse had heard it all before and was already turning her away.