Riley tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, glancing at the rearview mirror for what felt like the hundredth time. The streets were getting increasingly busier as the sun began to climb higher in the sky. It was nearly 10 am, and Sinclair's guys were taking an annoyingly long time to pick her up. Her heart pounded, but not from fear—just anticipation. It was taking forever.

She'd been driving slow, making sure to hit every traffic camera on the route. Her hat and baseball cap were stuffed into the passenger seat, her dark hair loose and visible, leaving no doubt it was her. She felt exposed, but that was the point. She had to be easy to spot.

As she approached another intersection, she slowed down even more, almost to a crawl. The camera overhead blinked like a sleepy eye, watching her roll through. For a brief second, she imagined Luke on the other side, tracking her movements, his face twisted in fury. She knew he'd be awake by now. He'd seen her note. He was probably going ballistic, pacing and cursing, trying to figure out where the hell she went.

Riley's stomach churned with guilt. She hated that she'd left him behind, hated even more that she'd done it knowing how much he'd worry. But this was the only way.

She had to end this.

And it was her plan. He'd hate her for taking the risk, but he'd understand why eventually—at least she hoped he would.

The GPS on her phone was on, and she made sure the tracker was working. Jackson had better be on his game. He'd always been sharp, if a little too laid-back at times, but he couldn't afford to be lazy now. Not when her life hung in the balance. Not when this was the moment everything had been leading up to.

She turned down another street, driving slowly past an alley, glancing into the shadowy space between the buildings. It was empty. Of course it was. It felt like she'd been at this for hours, and the longer she went without being caught, the more her nerves stretched thin. She needed this to happen before she lost her resolve.

She pulled over near an old diner, parked the car, and stepped out, letting the door close softly behind her. The air was cool against her skin, the early morning streets still damp with dew. She tucked the burner phone securely into her bra, right beneath the padding, knowing it would be harder for anyone to find it there. It had to stay with her. It was her lifeline.

With one last glance at the car, she started walking down a narrow alley, her footsteps echoing off the brick walls. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting long shadows as she kept her head up, looking alert but not too cautious. She had to play the part—vulnerable, alone, easy prey.

She strolled past dumpsters, the scent of rotting food mixing with the stale air. Every time she crossed an intersection, she slowed down, looking for the next camera, making sure it got a good, long look at her. The cameras were her only comfort, knowing that someone– hopefully Jackson—was out there watching, tracking her movements, waiting for the right moment to intervene.

Riley couldn't shake the image of Luke in her head, though. His face, the way his eyes would narrow when he was pissed, the rough edge to his voice when he couldn't hold back his anger. She imagined him now, his jaw clenched, furious with her for doing this. For leaving him behind. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on the plan. If she let her emotions take over, it'd all fall apart.

"Sorry, Luke," she whispered under her breath, looking up at yet another traffic camera as she walked through the light.

Suddenly, a van screeched to a stop beside her, its tires screeching against the asphalt. Riley's heart skipped a beat. She'd been waiting for this, but now that it was happening, adrenaline shot through her veins.

The doors flew open, and before she could react, two men jumped out, grabbing her roughly.

"Hey!" she yelled, struggling against them, but they were fast. One of them slammed her against the van, his hand covering her mouth, while the other pulled out a syringe.

She kicked, twisted, anything to get free, but her body betrayed her. The needle sank into her arm, and the world began to blur around the edges. Her head swam, her vision darkening as the drugs took effect. She heard muffled voices, felt herself being dragged into the van, the door slamming shut behind them.

"Got her," one of the men said, his voice distant, almost dreamlike as the drug took hold.

Riley tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, but the darkness closed in, swallowing her whole.

The last thing she thought of was Luke, his face, his voice, and how angry—no, how scared—he must be.

Then everything went black.

___________________________ Luke POV

Luke paced in front of the rundown motel, his jaw tight, the anger and worry coiling inside him like a storm. The neon sign flickered above, casting a pale light over the parking lot as Julie pulled up in an unmarked car, the tires crunching against the gravel. Luke threw his bag into the backseat without a word, his expression dark as he climbed into the passenger side, slamming the door harder than necessary.

Julie started the engine, barely casting him a glance, but she took note of the way he limped and favoured one side. He was clearly injured. As she pulled out of the parking lot, his knee bounced restlessly. Julie was silent behind the wheel, her eyes fixed on the road, but Luke couldn't take it anymore. His heart was pounding in his chest, a sickening cocktail of panic and anger swirling inside him. The note Riley had left replayed over and over in his head: I'm sorry, and I love you.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Julie glanced at him. "You look like you're about to do something stupid," she said as she pulled onto the highway.

"Drive faster," he snapped, his voice like a whip.

Julie tightened her grip on the wheel, her eyes fixed on the road. "I'm already doing twenty over, Luke. Calm down."

"Call Brett. Figure out where Riley is. Now." His voice was low, dangerous, a barely restrained growl.

Julie's grip on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles white. "Luke—"

"That's an order," he cut her off, his voice seething with urgency. He wasn't in the mood for diplomacy or patience. Not when Riley was out there, alone, walking into a trap. On purpose.

Julie's jaw clenched, and for a moment, it seemed like she might obey. But then she shook her head, her tone sharp with defiance. "No. This is Riley's plan. You want to run in there and drag her out? That's not what she wanted."

"I'm going after her," Luke said bluntly, his hands already gripping the seat like he was holding himself back from jumping out of the car. "I can't just sit here while she's—"

"Shut the hell up, Luke!" she shouted, surprising him into silence. "You're not the only one who cares about Riley! But you running off half-cocked like this is going to get her killed. She knows what she's doing."

Luke glared at her, his chest heaving with frustration. "She's out there, alone, in over her head. I know these people, Julie, they'll rip her apart. I can't just sit back and do nothing."

"This is her best shot," she interrupted, her voice hard. "If she's in the city, Sinclair will find her. She's counting on that. Better for her to control when it happens than for him to catch her by surprise. You storming in doesn't help anyone. Especially not in your condition. What are you going to do, limp in and save the day?"

Luke's anger flared hot, his vision almost narrowing to red as the tension between them grew. But as much as he wanted to yell, to demand she pull over and let him figure this out himself, he knew she had a point. And that only made him angrier.

Luke clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "I can't just sit here. If something happens to her—"

"You need to trust her," Julie interrupted, her voice softer now but no less firm. "You don't get to control everything. Riley is strong, and she knows what she's up against. And she is a damn good cop. You need to have faith in her, just like she's had faith in you."

Luke let out a sharp breath, leaning back against the seat as the words sank in. The truth of it stung, but Julie wasn't wrong. Riley was a damn good cop, but that did little to ease the terror that had settled under his skin.

When they reached the station, Luke was out of the vehicle before Julie could put the car in park. Luke nodded once, his face grim, and strode into the building without a word.

Inside, Luke didn't waste time heading to Jackson's office. The detective was hunched over paperwork when Luke barged in, his presence like a thundercloud filling the small space.

"Jackson," Luke growled, pacing like a caged animal. "Where is she? Why don't we have people tailing her?"

Jackson looked up from his desk, his brows furrowing. "Luke, sit down."

"I'm not sitting down!" Luke slammed his fist onto the table, his voice rising. "We're wasting time. Why the hell aren't we doing more?"

Jackson sighed, leaning back in his chair, watching Luke carefully. "You need to trust the process. Riley's tough—"

"That's not the point!" Luke snapped, his voice cracking. "She's out there, and Sinclair—"

"You trained her for this," Jackson interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. "You know she can handle herself. She's smart, resourceful. You made sure of that. We need to play this smart."

"Smart?" Luke's eyes blazed with fury. "What the hell is smart about sitting here doing nothing while she's out there, risking her life?"

"She's been risking her life since the moment she put on that badge," Jackson replied coolly. "Just like you. Just like me. You trained her for this. Don't forget that."

Luke stopped pacing, his chest heaving as the words sank in. He collapsed into the chair across from Jackson, his head in his hands. The weight of everything came crashing down on him—his fear for Riley, his guilt, the helplessness gnawing at him.

"I can't sit here, Jackson," Luke said through gritted teeth. His voice was low, pleading now. "I can't just—wait."

Jackson studied him for a moment, his voice quieter. "You love her, huh?"

Luke didn't answer at first, his fingers digging into his hair. When he finally looked up, his eyes were haunted, but there was no denying the truth in them. "Yeah," he whispered, the admission heavy. "I do."

"Then trust her," Jackson continued. "Trust that she knows what she's doing. She's trying to finish this. And she's not gonna go down without a fight."

Luke swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. Jackson was right, but it didn't make it any easier.

"You're bleeding through your shirt," Jackson said suddenly, gesturing to the red stain spreading over Luke's side. "Go see the station's doctor before you collapse on me."

Luke glanced down, barely registering the pain. "I'm fine," he muttered, though it was clear he wasn't.

Before Jackson could press him further, Donnelly's voice cut through the room from the hallway, and Luke froze.

"Patrols found the safe house car abandoned," Donnelly said grimly to Jackson. "Sinclair has her."

Luke's heart stopped, his entire body going rigid. He stood abruptly, his face pale, his fists clenched so tight they shook. "No," he breathed, his eyes wild.

Jackson shot up from his chair, blocking Luke's path as he lunged for the door. "You stay put, Luke," he warned. "Don't make me cuff you to the damn table."