CHAPTER 221 Alive?
*Noah*
The forest air was thick with pine and fog, the distant glow of the old pizza factory flickering through the trees like a warning. I slammed Greg against the rusted side of my truck, his head bouncing off the metal, his feet dangling an inch off the ground. Greg, once Mandan High’s cocky football captain, now just a hired thug for Pete McDowell. His rivalry with Cris was ancient history, but his smug grin still made my blood boil.
“Where is she?” I growled, my grip tightening on his collar. The factory’s jagged rooftops loomed a kilometer away, a crumbling scar in the woods where Pete hid his dirty deals.
My comms buzzed, the Colonel's IT Specialist's voice sharp in my ear. “Greg’s crew is down. Just him left. Get us confirmation Virtue’s inside.”
A teenage girl’s 911 call about an abduction had reached us—vague, no details on the van’s color, just panic. I had seen Big Mike’s van roll into the factory earlier, but he was a small-time troublemaker, not a kidnapper. Still, my sniper couldn’t get a clear view inside. If Virtue was there, broken or worse, I was running out of time.
“Talk, Greg!” I roared, slamming him again.
He smirked, blood staining his teeth. “Too late, Noah. She was screaming when I left. Begging, clawing—Pete loved it.”
Something snapped inside me. My combat knife flashed in the moonlight as I pressed it to his throat. “You think I won’t carve the truth out of you?”
Greg’s eyes widened, but his voice stayed cruel. “She fought hard. Bit Pete’s cheek, drew blood. He was pissed, said he’d make her crawl before he finished her.”
I didn’t let him say more. The knife’s pommel cracked against his temple, and he crumpled to the dirt, groaning. “Restrain him,” I snapped at Malik, one of the Colonel’s men, my voice cold as ice. “If he moves, gut him.”
Malik nodded, zip-tying Greg’s wrists as I stepped back, my fists shaking. I couldn’t let my mind go there—couldn’t picture Virtue, her sky-blue eyes wide with fear, her smile gone. She was the only woman who made my heart race, the only one I’d sworn to protect. She trusted me. And now Pete had her.
I keyed my comms. “Jesse, entry time?”
“Three minutes,” Jesse replied, his voice steady. “East wall breach. We go in hot.”
“Good,” I growled. “Keep Pete alive. I want to rip his spine out myself.”
I started for the lead Humvee when the night exploded orange. A deafening BOOM shook the ground, the shockwave knocking me back. Fire tore through the factory, windows shattering, flames clawing the sky. Metal groaned as the roof collapsed, a second blast ripping through the air, the heat stinging my face even from a distance.
“No…” I whispered, stumbling forward, my boots sinking into the mud. The factory was a roaring inferno, swallowing everything.
I stared, frozen, as the building became a funeral pyre. Virtue. My knees hit the ground, the world blurring. “She was in there…” My voice broke, raw and hoarse. “She was in there…”
Her face flickered in the flames—bloodied, brave, alone. I saw her smile, the one that lit up my dark days, now lost in the fire. I was sixty seconds too late to save her from Pete. Too late to keep my promise.
The Colonel’s hand landed on my shoulder, heavy, unsure if he was comforting me or holding me back. “Noah, we don’t know—”
“She’s not gone,” I said, my voice a low blade, cutting through my grief. I stood, eyes locked on the burning wreckage. “She wouldn’t die like that. Not without fighting. Not without leaving a mark.”
The Colonel frowned, his voice cautious. “Noah, the fire—”
“I’m going to find who did this. And I’m going to find her," I said, my jaw tight, fury coiling in my chest.
The fire roared, but my heart burned hotter. If Virtue was gone, I’d hunt everyone responsible. And if she wasn’t, I’d tear the world apart to bring her home.
________________________
The streets of New Salem were dead when my truck rolled in. No one walked, no cars moved. The diner’s neon sign was dark, the townsfolk asleep or drunk from the festival.
Firetrucks and police had swarmed the pizza factory and found two bodies, one identified as female. The Colonel promised an update by morning, but waiting felt like surrender. There was nothing left to do but let the firefighters sift through the ashes.
One piece of good news: Liam Cohen was in FBI custody, nabbed for the massacre. The town didn’t know yet, but the news would break soon. For now, it was my only spark of hope in a night gone to hell.
I parked in my driveway, the engine ticking as it cooled. Across the street, one house glowed in the dark—the old Taylor place, its windows warm with light. Kiki was there, Virtue’s friend. Maybe she knew something. Maybe she could ease the ache in my chest, help me make sense of losing her.
I trudged to the porch, my boots heavy, and knocked. The door cracked open, Kiki’s face peering out, her blonde hair a mess, her eyes sharp with suspicion. “Noah?” she said, glancing past me. “It’s late. You alone?”
“Yeah, just me,” I said, my voice rough. “Have you heard from Virtue? I know she's on her honeymoon, but maybe she called to check in." I took a deep breath, thinking of how to ask about Virtue without alerting her. "Can I come in?”
Kiki hesitated, then stepped aside. “Sure, come in.”
I stepped into the house, the familiar scent wrapping around me—polished wood, lavender, and that sharp floral perfume Virtue loved, like roses with an edge. It hit me like a punch, stirring memories of her laugh, her touch. I shut the door and stood in the living room, the one I’d helped renovate, before Virtue came to this town.
“Kiki, what's taking you so long?” a voice called, clear and sharp, like a bell in the quiet. My heart stopped. *No*. *It can’t be*.
I turned, and there she was, leaning in the doorway to the den. Virtue. Her blonde hair was damp, curling from a shower, her white T-shirt and denim shorts simple but clinging to her like a second skin. Her blue eyes locked on mine, alive and impossible.
“Oh my God,” I choked, tears stinging my eyes. “You’re alive?”
She tilted her head, her face puzzled, like I’d said something crazy. “Of course I’m alive, Noah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I didn’t think. I ran to her, arms wide, needing to hold her, to feel her heartbeat, to know she wasn’t a ghost. “Virtue, I thought—after the factory, the fire—I thought you were gone!”
I was inches away when a sharp sting bit my neck. My hand flew up, yanking out a syringe, its needle glinting in the lamplight. My legs buckled, and I hit the floor, my body frozen. I could see, hear, think—but I couldn’t move, not even my lips. Panic clawed at me, my heart racing in a useless cage.
“Aww, Noah,” Virtue murmured, her voice sweet like poisoned honey. She knelt beside me, her fingers brushing my forehead, pushing back my sweaty hair. Her touch was soft, but her eyes burned with a fury I’d never seen, cold and wild. “So sweet, trying to ‘rescue’ me from the factory. But I don’t need saving.”
I tried to scream *Why*? My mouth wouldn’t work, but my eyes begged, wide and desperate.
“Why?” she said, reading my gaze. Her laugh was sharp, cutting like glass. “Pete spilled everything before I put a bullet in his skull. The boys’ gym, ten years ago. You planned it, Noah. You set me up to destroy my family. I thought you were my hero, driving me home that night, getting me to the hospital. My best friend.” Her voice cracked, and for a moment, her face softened, like the girl I’d known. Then it turned to stone. “I loved you, Noah. I loved you so much it hurt. And you betrayed me.”
My mind spun. *Joy*? *Virtue Sullivan is Joy Taylor*? The truth crashed over me like a wave. The girl I had ruined was back, staring down at me with eyes that promised death.
I tried to move, to beg, to explain. Nothing worked. My heart pounded, trapped.
“Take him,” Joy said, nodding to someone behind me. A black hood dropped over my face, the fabric rough and suffocating. “Soon, everyone will be complete.”
As hands dragged me away, her perfume lingered, sharp and cruel, a reminder of the girl I’d lost—and the monster I’d made.
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