Chapter 107

Amanda’s heart pounded in her chest as the men closed in behind her. She kept moving, her body pushing past exhaustion, muscles aching from the relentless sprint through the forest. The icy water from the river still clung to her clothes, the weight of it slowing her down, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t afford to stop.

Then, out of nowhere, the sharp crack of a gunshot rang out.

A sudden, searing pain shot through her side. Amanda gasped, stumbling forward as the world tilted around her. She pressed a hand to her side, and when she pulled it away, her fingers were slick with blood. Her vision blurred, and the forest seemed to spin. The ground rose up to meet her as her knees gave way, and she collapsed onto the cold earth, struggling to catch her breath.

No. Not like this.

Her mind screamed at her to get up, to keep moving, but her body refused to obey. The pain was overwhelming, every breath a struggle as the bullet wound throbbed in time with her racing pulse. She tried to push herself up, but her arms trembled and gave out beneath her. All she could do was lie there, helpless, as footsteps approached.

Through the haze of pain, Amanda heard voices—low, harsh, and unfamiliar. Not Ghost’s men. Whoever they were, they had found her.

Rough hands grabbed her arms, yanking her to her feet. She cried out as the pain flared up, but the men ignored her, dragging her through the trees. Her vision swam, her head spinning as the world around her blurred. She tried to fight, to resist, but her strength was fading fast, her body too weak to put up much of a struggle.

“Got her,” one of the men growled. “Let’s move. We don’t have much time.”

Amanda’s thoughts raced in disjointed fragments, her mind struggling to keep up with the flood of panic that coursed through her. She had to do something. She couldn’t let them take her—not again. But her body refused to cooperate, and all she could do was watch helplessly as the forest blurred past her, the trees casting long shadows in the fading light of day.

They moved quickly, the men dragging her through the underbrush, their grip on her arms iron tight. She didn’t know how far they traveled, only that every step felt like a lifetime. Time seemed to stretch and warp, her sense of reality slipping in and out of focus as the pain in her side dulled to a distant ache.

At some point, they reached a vehicle—a dark SUV parked deep in the woods, far from any road or trail. One of the men shoved her into the back seat, her body slumping against the cold leather. The door slammed shut, and within moments, the engine roared to life, the tires kicking up dirt as they sped away from the forest.

Amanda fought to stay conscious, her mind swimming through a fog of pain and exhaustion. She could feel the warmth of her own blood soaking through her shirt, the wound still bleeding, but there was nothing she could do. Her limbs felt heavy, her eyelids even heavier, and despite the fear that gnawed at her, she felt herself slipping into darkness.

Just before she lost consciousness, a single thought cut through the haze: This isn’t Ghost. This is something else. Something worse.

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Amanda woke to the dull throb of pain in her side and the sensation of cold metal beneath her skin. Her vision swam as she blinked her eyes open, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She was in a dimly lit room, her hands bound tightly behind her back, her legs tied at the ankles. The chair she was tied to was hard, unyielding, and the room smelled faintly of mildew and dust.

For a moment, panic surged through her, her heart pounding as the reality of her situation hit her like a punch to the gut. She had been captured again—but this time, it wasn’t Ghost. These men, whoever they were, had no connection to her brother.

As her senses sharpened, Amanda tried to remember how she had gotten here. The last thing she recalled was the forest, the sound of gunfire, and the searing pain in her side. She glanced down, seeing that her wound had been hastily bandaged, but the bandage was already soaked through with blood.

The door to the room creaked open, and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside. His face was unfamiliar—cold and calculating, with sharp features and eyes that gleamed with something cruel. He wore a black tactical vest, his entire demeanor radiating a kind of ruthless authority.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice smooth but edged with menace. “You’re awake.”

Amanda’s stomach twisted as she tried to suppress the rising tide of fear. “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice hoarse.

The man smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is what you know.”

“I don’t know anything,” Amanda shot back, her voice laced with defiance despite the pain. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

The man’s smile faded, and he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t think so. You’ve been a thorn in our side for far too long, Amanda. We’ve been watching you—tracking your every move. And now, you’re going to tell us exactly what we want to know.”

Amanda’s heart raced. They knew her name. They had been following her, waiting for the right moment to strike. But who were they? And what did they want?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Amanda said, her voice steady even as fear coiled tighter around her chest.

The man crouched down in front of her, his face mere inches from hers. “Oh, I think you do,” he whispered, his tone dripping with malice. “You’ve been working with your brother, haven’t you? You think you can outrun us, but you’re wrong. Ghost was just the beginning.”

Amanda’s blood ran cold at the mention of her brother. Ghost’s enemies had found her, and now, they were using her as leverage. But what did they want from him?

Before she could respond, the man straightened, turning to leave the room. “We’ll continue this conversation later,” he said over his shoulder. “For now, think carefully about how much your life is worth.”

The door slammed shut, leaving Amanda alone in the suffocating darkness. As the silence pressed in around her, she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t let them break her. She had survived Ghost, and she would survive this.

But as the weight of her situation settled over her, a cold dread took root in her chest. Whoever these people were, they weren’t after information. They wanted something far worse.

And Amanda wasn’t sure she could stop them.