Chapter 300: Life Exchange

I couldn't stop pacing. Each step I took in the cramped monitoring room felt like a knife twisting in my gut. A dozen screens lined the wall, but my eyes were locked on the central monitor displaying the feed from James's hidden camera.

"He's landing now," a technician announced, fingers flying across his keyboard.

Nathan squeezed my shoulder. "James knows what he's doing. He's got this."

But his reassuring words barely registered. On screen, I watched as the helicopter touched down on the abandoned apartment building's roof in Queens. The camera shook as James jumped out, carrying two duffel bags.

"Where are they?" my father muttered beside me, his face ashen. "Where are my grandchildren?"

The rooftop looked deserted at first, just crumbling concrete and rusted vents. Then the camera swung toward a half-collapsed wall. William Thornton stepped out from behind it, dragging something—no, someone—behind him.

"Oh God," I gasped, clapping a hand over my mouth.

It was Theo. My baby boy, bound with duct tape, his small face bruised and unnaturally flushed. His eyes were half-closed, head lolling to one side.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, my voice breaking. "Why isn't he moving?"

"Probably sedated," one of the security analysts said quietly. "Standard kidnapping tactic."

Standard kidnapping tactic. The words made me want to scream. Nothing about this was standard. These were my children being held by a madman.

On screen, James set down the bags. "Where's Harper?" His voice came through clearly, steady despite everything.

William pulled out a phone, holding it up so James could see the screen. The camera angle shifted as James leaned forward, giving us a partial view of the video call.

"Harper..." I whispered, pressing closer to the monitor.

My daughter appeared on William's phone, tied to a chair in what looked like a basement. Her golden curls were matted with dirt, her cheek swollen and bruised. Behind her, I could hear the distant sound of waves crashing and construction noises.

"You see? She's quite comfortable, all things considered." William tucked the phone away. "Clearly, I've kept my end of the bargain. Your son is here, your daughter is safe—for now."

"Tell me where she is, and you get the money." James's voice had hardened. "That's the deal."

William laughed, the sound unnervingly pleasant. "Oh James, you misunderstand. This was never about money."

He yanked Theo forward, pressing a knife against his small throat. My son didn't even flinch, his eyes rolling back alarmingly.

"What do you want?" James demanded.

"Justice." William's smile twisted into something feral. "JUMP, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

The sudden scream made everyone in the monitoring room flinch.

"What?" James and I said in unison, though he couldn't hear me.

William yanked Theo's head back, pressing the knife harder against his throat. A thin line of blood appeared, dark against my son's pale skin.

"It's REAL fucking simple, little brother." William's voice cracked with manic energy. "You jump off this building, your kids might live. Refuse, and I'll cut this little bastard's throat right now." He punctuated each word by jerking the knife, making me cry out in terror.

"NO!" I screamed, lunging toward the screen as if I could reach through it. Nathan caught me, pulling me back.

"He won't hurt them," he whispered fiercely in my ear. "James won't let him."

On screen, James took a careful step closer. William immediately retreated, dragging Theo with him.

"DON'T FUCKING MOVE!" William's eyes bulged, spittle flying from his mouth. "ONE MORE STEP AND I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL DO IT!"

His hand shook violently, the knife dancing dangerously close to Theo's skin. My son's head lolled, completely vulnerable to William's increasing instability.

"GET UP THERE!" William shrieked, gesturing wildly toward the rooftop's edge. "CLIMB THAT FUCKING WALL NOW! I WANT TO WATCH YOU FALL, JAMES! I WANT TO SEE YOUR BODY SPLATTER ON THE CONCRETE!"

I watched in horror as James moved slowly toward the roof's edge. He climbed onto the low wall, turning to face William. Even through the camera, I could see his knuckles turning white as he gripped the ledge.

"Let the boy go first," James demanded, his voice steady despite the thirty-story drop behind him.

William laughed, a high-pitched sound that wasn't remotely sane. "You think you're calling the shots?" He pressed the knife harder, drawing more blood. "Jump, and maybe—MAYBE—I'll let your precious babies live. Or stand there talking while I count to five, and the boy dies first."

He began counting, each number growing louder and more unhinged. "ONE!"

"William, think about what you're doing," James tried.

"TWO!" William's face flushed deep red, the veins in his neck bulging.

"THREE!" His entire body trembled with rage. "You think prison was bad? Try watching everything you deserve handed to your bastard brother!"

"FOUR!" William raised the knife slightly, preparing to plunge it downward.

"Okay! Stop!" James shouted, balancing precariously on the ledge. "I'll do it. Just don't hurt him."

I couldn't breathe as I watched James balance on the ledge, the camera showing dizzying glimpses of the street far below whenever he glanced down.

The camera suddenly lurched, the image spinning wildly. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought he'd fallen.

"Signal destabilizing!" the technician shouted. "We're losing visual!"

"No, no, no," I chanted, clutching Nathan's arm so hard my nails drew blood.

The screen showed blurry flashes—sky, concrete, William's startled face. Then nothing but static.

"Get it back!" I shouted. "Get it back now!"

After agonizing seconds, the feed stabilized. The angle was bizarre, upside down and swaying slightly. It took me a moment to understand what I was seeing: James had hooked his legs around the rebar, hanging upside down on the outside of the building, out of William's sight.

With a fluid motion that took my breath away, James swung his body up and over the ledge, launching himself at William. The camera spun wildly as they collided, Theo falling to the side.

I caught glimpses of fists, heard grunts of pain, saw flashes of the knife. The chaos was impossible to follow until a new voice cut through.

"I've got the boy!" It was Marcus. "Kid's burning up with fever. Getting him to the helicopter now."

A split screen appeared, showing Marcus carrying Theo to the waiting helicopter. My son looked so small, so fragile in his arms.

"Where's James?" I demanded. "Where's Harper?"

The camera stabilized enough to show James pursuing William toward a stairwell. They disappeared inside, the feed becoming a blur of gray walls and shaky steps as James descended.

"He's three floors down," the technician reported, tracking James's position through GPS.

The camera swung wildly with each footfall, making me dizzy. Suddenly, James burst through a doorway into what looked like an abandoned apartment. The space was littered with construction debris and old furniture.

"William!" James shouted, his breath coming hard through the audio.

Movement from behind a pile of packing materials. William emerged, dragging Harper with him. My heart stopped. My daughter had been in the same building all along, just a few floors below.

"Harper!" I screamed, as if she could hear me. "Oh God, Harper!"

What I saw shattered my heart. My once beautiful little girl, who'd always been immaculate with her perfect curls and clean dresses, was now unrecognizable. Her face was mottled with bruises in various shades of purple and yellow. Dried blood crusted around her nose and split lip. Her golden curls were matted with dirt and sweat, her clothes torn and filthy.