Chapter 1 - The Phone Call at 2:17 A.M.
Three days earlier, Jack Miller was asleep in a small house outside Wilmington, North Carolina, when his phone rang.
2:17 a.m.
He woke immediately.
Fifteen years of military service had taught his body to move before his mind fully understood why.
He reached for the phone.
Unknown number.
"Jack Miller."
A woman's voice answered.
"Mr. Miller?"
"Yes."
"This is Cape Fear Medical Center. Your daughter has been admitted to the emergency department."
Jack sat upright.
"What happened?"
"She was injured."
"How?"
The nurse hesitated.
"She told us she fell down a staircase."
Jack looked toward the dark window.
His daughter, Hannah Miller, was twenty-five.
Healthy.
Athletic.
Careful.
She did not fall down staircases.
"Is she conscious?"
"Yes."
"Can I speak to her?"
"She's being taken for imaging."
Jack was already pulling on his trousers.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes."
He arrived in fourteen.
Hannah lay in a hospital bed with bruising along the left side of her face.
Her wrist was swollen.
One eye was nearly closed.
Jack stopped in the doorway.
For a moment he could not move.
He had seen injuries before.
Gunshots.
Burns.
Blast trauma.
Men barely recognizable beneath blood and dust.
Nothing had prepared him for seeing his daughter like this.
Hannah looked toward him.
"Dad."
Jack walked to the bed.
He touched her hair.
"Who did this?"
She looked away.
"I fell."
He pulled a chair beside her.
"Try again."
"Dad."
"Hannah."
Her eyes filled.
"It was stupid."
"Falling down stairs isn't stupid."
She said nothing.
Jack looked at her injuries.
The bruises did not make sense.
A stair fall could cause almost anything.
But one mark bothered him.
Finger-shaped bruises on her upper arm.
Jack had taught Marines how to recognize restraint injuries.
Someone had grabbed her.
Hard.
"Where's Dustin?"
Hannah closed her eyes.
That was enough.
Jack stood.
"Dad."
He turned.
"Don't."
"What?"
"Go there."
"Did he do this?"
Hannah began crying.
Jack returned to the chair.
His voice softened.
"I'm not asking because I want revenge."
She laughed painfully.
"That's exactly why you're asking."
"No."
He held her hand carefully.
"I'm asking because I need to know whether you're safe."
Hannah wiped her cheek.
"I made him angry."
Jack's jaw tightened.
"What did you do?"
"I told him I was leaving."
Jack waited.
"He said I couldn't."
"What happened next?"
She shook her head.
"I don't remember everything."
Jack knew trauma sometimes fractured memory.
He did not push.
A nurse entered.
"Mr. Miller?"
Jack stood.
"We need to take Hannah for another scan."
"Of course."
Hannah gripped his hand.
"Dad."
He looked down.
"Promise me."
"What?"
"You won't hurt him."
Jack studied her face.
"I promise I won't do anything that puts you in more danger."
"That's not what I asked."
"It's what I can promise."
She released his hand.
The nurse moved the bed toward the hallway.
Jack followed until the doors closed.
A man sitting across the emergency waiting area watched him.
Mid-forties.
Heavy shoulders.
Black hoodie.
Jack noticed because the man looked away too quickly.
Military instinct.
One glance could mean nothing.
Two could mean coincidence.
Three became pattern.
The man checked his phone.
Then photographed Jack.
Jack walked directly toward him.
The man stood.
"Can I help you?"
"You tell me."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You just took my picture."
"No, I didn't."
Jack looked toward the man's hand.
Phone turned inward.
Screen dark.
"What gym do you train at?"
The man froze.
Jack had guessed.
The swollen knuckles and flattened ears gave him away.
"Excuse me?"
"Which gym?"
The man walked toward the exit.
Jack followed.
Outside, the man hurried toward a pickup truck.
Jack memorized the license plate.
The truck drove away.
He returned inside.
Ten minutes later Hannah's phone buzzed on the chair beside him.
Jack did not touch it.
Then it buzzed again.
A preview appeared.
Dustin:
Your dad needs to mind his own business.
Jack stared at the message.
Hannah had not told Dustin he was there.
Someone else had.
The man in the waiting room.
Jack felt an old sensation return.
Not anger.
Assessment.
He called an old friend.
Detective Laura Bennett answered after three rings.
"Jack?"
"Sorry."
"What happened?"
"My daughter's in the ER."
Laura was awake immediately.
"Is she okay?"
"No."
"What do you need?"
"A plate checked."
He gave her the number.
"Why?"
"Someone was watching the hospital."
There was silence.
Laura knew Jack well enough not to dismiss that sentence.
"I'll call you back."
Eight minutes later she did.
"The truck is registered to Rick Dalton."
"Who is he?"
"Owns Dalton Combat Academy."
Jack looked through the glass doors.
"And Dustin Parker trains there?"
Laura paused.
"You already knew?"
"No."
May you like
He looked at Hannah's phone.
"But I do now."
