Chapter Twenty
The phone drops to the coffee table with a thud.
I stare at it as the screen goes dark, my fingers itching to reach for it, but I don’t move. Legs pulled up, arms around them, chin resting on my knees, I just sit here on the floor near Kassian’s chair, right by his feet, where he used to always make me sit.
Easy access, he says.
Always within arm’s reach.
His hand presses against my hair, smoothing it, petting me, absently twirling strands around his fingers. My scalp tingles, even though I wish it wouldn’t. I want no part of me to ever react to any part of him, but it’s unconscious. I can’t stop it. The nerve endings are traitorous, sparking from the gentle touch, no matter how cruel the man attached to those hands may be.
It makes me sick to the stomach.
Or sicker, rather.
His phone call with Lorenzo was enough to make me want to throw up.
“It will not be long now,” Kassian says, his voice low. “The fun will soon begin.”
I shake my head, whispering, “He’s not coming.”
“You do not think so?”
“He’s smarter than that,” I say. “He’s not going to show up here just because you suggested it.”
“Oh, I think you are wrong. In fact, I think he is already on his way. Maybe not for the money. Maybe not for you. But he will come, because he is not the type to turn down an invitation, and we both know that, pretty girl. He will show his ugly face soon.”
The more he speaks, the more his grip on me tightens, the tingles replaced with pain as he tangles his fingers through my hair, fisting a handful. I wince as he tugs my head back, straining my neck, forcing me to look up at him.
“But maybe you are right,” he says. “You will be lucky if he does not show. Because when he gets here, the first thing I am going to do is fuck you. Right here, like we used to, right where everyone can watch. I might even let him join, let him take you one last time, kill him while he is deep inside of that sweet pussy. Would you like that, suka? Being the last thing he ever does?”
I don’t respond. I don’t react.
Man, that makes him mad.
His cheek twitches. He shoves me away, nearly knocking my head into the table from the force of it as he slouches in his chair. I rub my sore scalp from where he pulled my hair, my face flushing when I glance around the room.
Everybody’s watching us.
Watching me, rather.
Before I can dwell on it, I hear the front door open. The alarm is disabled as a thick accent echoes through the foyer. “Vor!”
Markel.
I tense, hearing a struggle, a scuffle, before Markel appears in the doorway. He’s not alone, though, and parts of me viciously twist at the recognition, as Markel drags another guy with him. Declan.
“Ah, Mr. Jackson! How nice of you to join us!” Kassian waves into the room. “Have a seat. We were just waiting for your boss to make an appearance.”
Declan struggles as Markel shoves him further into the room. His lip is busted, bleeding, the side of his face swollen. He fought, hard, but you can’t tell it looking at Markel. He’s all put together.
Well, except for his eye—still swollen and bloodshot, a milky haze coating it. Oops.
He shoves Declan down onto the couch across from me, his eyes on my face. I can feel his gaze, even after I look away, my attention returning to Kassian’s phone, discarded on the table just inches away. My heart is racing like a jackhammer, banging against my bruised ribcage.
“I have to use the bathroom,” I whisper when Kassian’s hand weasels its way back into my hair.
“No,” Kassian says, barely paying me any attention as he snatches up a bottle of vodka from the table.
“I’ll make it fast,” I tell him. “I promise.”
He ignores me, drinking, his eyes fixed on Declan.
“Kassian, I really have to pee.”
My hand slips beneath his pant leg as I shift position, grasping his bare calf. It catches him off guard, me touching him. He reacts instinctively, shoving me off, throwing me right into the small table. I wince, the blow hard enough to rock the flimsy wood, knocking things off. Bottles tip over, and people scramble to grab them before the liquor spills out, while I catch myself on the edge of the table, grabbing the phone and slipping it behind my back.
I’m not wearing much, I know, but you’d be amazed where women can hide things. I slip the small phone right under my arm, tucking it in the band of the black bra, before holding my hands up in front of me defensively.
Kassian glares at me as I shake, genuinely fucking shake, because if he saw what I just did, I’m fucked. Literally, figuratively, every sense of that word and every which way it can happen. Fucked.
“Go,” he says. “Before I change my mind.”
I’m on my feet, scurrying away, but I don’t make it from the room before he speaks again.
“Markel,” he says. “Show the suka to the bathroom.”
I stall near the door. “I remember where it is.”
“I know,” Kassian says. “I just do not trust you.”
“But—”
“Either he escorts you,” Kassian says, cutting me off, “or you go right here in front of us all. Take your pick. There is no other option.”
Markel chooses for me, grabbing my shoulder and pushing me out of the room, his grip so tight I grimace the entire way down the hall. He shoves me inside of the nearest bathroom, feeling along the wall to blindly turn on the light. Stumbling, scowling, I grab the door to close it when his palm smacks against the wood, shoving it right back open.
He shifts his body into the doorway. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leans against the doorframe. He doesn’t look happy.
“Well?” He raises an eyebrow. “You said you had to go.”
“Can I get some privacy?”
“No.”
“Seriously? Can you turn the other way, at least?”
“No.”
My stomach drops. I just stand there, frozen.
“Stage fright?” he asks.
“This is humiliating.”
“I have seen you in worse predicaments. So go. I’m waiting. Tick, tick, stupid girl... time is being wasted.”
Rolling my eyes, I just do it. I didn’t really have to go, but I force myself to so not to raise suspicion. Afterward, I stand there, taking my time washing my hands, buying myself a few seconds to think.
Groaning, Markel comes closer, shoving me out of the way as he steps over to use the bathroom.
I move away as soon as his back is to me, stepping out into the hall and pulling the phone from my bra. It’s locked, so there isn’t a lot I can do, trying a few codes but they all say try again. Kassian’s too smart to use something I can guess.
Out of luck, out of time, I hit the ‘emergency’ button. Can’t do much besides call 911.
Not like it’ll help me right now, but maybe they can trace the call.
I hit the button to end the call after I’m sure it connects, shoving the phone back into my bra as Markel steps out of the bathroom.
“You didn’t wash your hands,” I tell him, making a face.
“Give it to me,” he says, holding his hand out.
He still doesn’t look happy.
“Give you what?”
“Give it to me,” he says again, his voice louder. “I will not tell Kassian as long as you give it to me right now.”
I stall, hesitating, about to say I don’t know what he’s talking about, when a soft buzz echoes around us. My chest starts vibrating. It’s ringing. Fuck.
Before I can give it to him, he shoves me against the wall, patting me down and taking the phone out of my bra. I try to snatch it back, but Markel slams his forearm into my throat, pinning me there as he answers the call.
“Hello,” he says, glaring at me as I struggle to take a deep breath. “Ah, yes, I am very sorry, but it was a mistake. Just a little girl playing on the phone, pressing buttons. There is no problem.”
He hangs up on them, still glaring at me, saying nothing for a moment, just clutching the phone.
“You know how he is, Markel,” I whisper. “You know what he’ll do.”
“So why do you do these things? Why do you always have to anger him?”
“What choice do I have?”
“You could be what he wants you to be.”
I look away from him when he says that. He knows I can’t. He knows it’s not right, that it’s not fair. Markel may not be a saint, but he’s not like his brother, either. There’s compassion in him somewhere, and sometimes it feels like it’s buried so deep it can’t ever be unearthed, but other times, I see glimpses of it.
He takes a step back, removing his arm from my throat to slip Kassian’s phone in his pocket.
“Where is she?” I ask, my voice trembling, hoping this is one of those moments. “Have you seen her?”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
“Because she’s my little girl. I need to know that she’s okay. I need to see her.”
He tells me nothing, instead nodding toward the den, wordlessly ordering me to go. My gaze trails along the floor as I cross my arms over my chest, making my way back to Kassian.
He’s hunched over the table, snorting a thick line of snow-white powder when I step into the room. I hesitate, watching that, as Markel knocks into me from behind, moving around me to approach Kassian. Leaning down, he whispers, and my heart hammers hard, wondering if he’s ratting me out. Kassian’s gaze seeks me out as he listens to his brother, his eyes dark, so damn dark, his pupils massive.
Kassian says something in return, I don’t know what, the words rushed and in Russian, like they’re arguing. After a moment, Kassian groans, throwing his hands up, dismissively waving Markel away. “Fine. Fine! Go.”
Markel reaches into his pocket, pulling Kassian’s phone out, sliding it onto the table before stalking off. He slows as he passes me, walking so close his shoulder bumps mine, as he says, “I will see you later, suka. Be a good girl while I’m gone, and he will be nice.”
Nice. That’s not the word I’d use for it. He’s erratic on coke, hot and cold. He either thinks you walk on water or he wants to bury you in the dirt.
There’s no middle ground.
A smile lights his face as he looks at me.
My stomach sinks.
I’m walking on water at the moment.
I think I’d much rather want him to bury me.
Slowly, I approach, to take my seat on the floor, but Kassian grabs a hold of my hips and pulls me onto his lap instead. His arm snakes around me, shifting me in the chair, pulling me back against him as he relaxes, sipping from his bottle of vodka. I don’t move, don’t fight it, even as his hand caresses my stomach, even as his lips find my shoulder blade, kissing it.
I bite my cheek, squeezing my eyes shut.
Happy place.
A loud chime echoes through the house. Everyone grows silent. Reopening my eyes, my gaze meets Declan’s across from me. He doesn’t look like he’s afraid, but he’s certainly not at ease, either.
It isn’t until the chime rings out for the second time that anyone seems to realize what we’re hearing. Doorbell. Kassian shoves me off of him, and I slide down onto the floor, taking my seat once more, hugging my legs. He sets his bottle of liquor down in front of me on the table before waving toward his minions. “Somebody answer that.”
The guy closest to the door gets up and walks out, leaving Kassian here with Declan and I and two others, now that Markel is gone.
It’s quiet. Almost too quiet. Nothing happens for a moment. The guy who answered the door doesn’t come back. Did he leave? Nobody else seems concerned, though, so I try to relax, until out of nowhere I hear his voice—cool and calm, almost mockingly so. “No offense, Aristotle, but your parties kind of suck.”
My eyes dart to the doorway, right to where he appears. Lorenzo. My heart beats so frantically my vision blurs. He’s wearing black from head-to-toe: black slacks, black shirt, black combat boots. He looks almost sinister, standing there in the shadows, hands shoved in his pockets. He glances around at the men, gaze lingering on Declan, before he turns to Kassian, skipping right over me.
It’s like I’m not even here.
Like I no longer exist to him.
My insides twist in knots, and I swallow thickly. I feel like I’m going to be sick. Ugh.
“Ah, yes, well, there are usually more women,” Kassian says, reaching down to pat my head. “Tonight, we only have our little guest of honor, but she is quite enjoyable on her own. I am sure she would be more than happy to liven things up for you.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve already fucked her,” Lorenzo says, those words nonchalant, but they hit me like a blow to the chest. “More than a few times, actually.”
“So I have heard.” Kassian fists a handful of my hair and roughly tugs my head up, so I’ll look at him instead of Lorenzo. “But who has not fucked her?”
A throat clears nearby, a voice chiming in. “I haven’t.”
Declan.
Kassian loosens his grip on my hair. “Ah, yes, you have a thing for one of the others. Lexie. Seems she took a liking to you, also.”
“Can you blame her?” Declan asks.
“Yes,” Kassian says with a laugh, “I can.”
Slowly, I turn my head again, my eyes shifting back to Lorenzo in the doorway. He’s staring at me now, his expression blank, not a hint of emotion to be found anywhere. I so desperately wish I knew what he was thinking, wish I knew what was going through his mind. I wonder if he came here with a plan, if he knows what he’s doing, if he realizes why Kassian told him to come. I wish he could hear my thoughts, so that I could warn him, so that I could thank him for everything he’s done to help.
So that I could tell him to get the fuck out of here.
As he stares at me, his cheek twitches, the slightest hint of a frown tugging his lips.
“Sit, Mister Scar,” Kassian says. “Have a drink.”
Blinking, Lorenzo turns away from me again, looking to Kassian. “I’d rather we get business out of the way first.”
“Fair enough,” Kassian says, shoving out of his chair, leaning across me to grab a black duffel bag from the floor nearby. He drops it on the center of the table before sitting back down. “A million. It is all there. Every dollar I promised for her.”
Lorenzo strolls into the room, coming closer... and closer... and closer, stopping so close to me that I can smell the faint hint of his soap as he leans down, unzipping the bag.
It’s overflowing with cash. I can see that from here. Lorenzo shifts through it, but he doesn’t bother counting before zipping it back up.
Snatching up the bag, he tosses it over to Declan, nearly knocking the wind out of the guy as it lands on his lap with a thud.
“Take that out to your car, Three,” Lorenzo says.
Declan forces his way up off the couch, not one to disregard an order. The guys in the room look around, not sure if they’re supposed to let him leave, looking to Kassian for some guidance.
“What is the rush?” Kassian asks, waving them off. “Sit. Enjoy yourselves. No need to run off.”
“I’m not running anywhere,” Lorenzo says, grabbing Kassian’s discarded vodka bottle from the table. He sniffs it before taking a swig.
Declan walks out, lugging the heavy bag with him. I can feel Kassian tense, his hand shifting to my shoulder, squeezing it hard, like he thinks Lorenzo might try to have me hauled out of here next.
Lorenzo steps over and drops down onto the couch, taking the seat Declan vacated. He looks at the guys on either side of him, assessing them, as he helps himself to the liquor. He seems at ease, more than he ought to, a fact that I know is ruffling Kassian.
His grip gets tighter... and tighter... and tighter.
I wince, trying to move from his grasp, trying to scoot to the right, out of his reach, but he isn’t having that. His hand shifts once again, this time grasping the back of my neck as he leans down toward me, saying, “It seems you were wrong, pretty girl.”
“Fuck you,” I whisper.
He laughs at me, and I shudder at the feel of his breath on my skin.
“Eager, are we?” he asks, running his nose along my hair. “Patience, pussycat.”
“So, tell me something, Jabba,” Lorenzo says, interrupting. “You got the kid frozen in carbonite somewhere?”
Kassian pulls away from me, but he doesn’t let go of my neck. “Jabba?”
“Yeah, you know, Star Wars,” Lorenzo says. “You seem to have a Jabba the Hutt thing going on with your chained-up dancers. Quite uncanny, really.”
“Star Wars?” Kassian’s voice is incredulous. “I do not like all that space stuff, with those aliens and the beam me up nonsense.”
Lorenzo coughs, choking on some vodka. Sitting up, he points the bottle at Kassian. “Did you seriously just...?”
“Star Wars,” Kassian says, waving him off. “It is all so stupid.”
Something happens in that moment. A flicker of rage flashes across Lorenzo’s face. Before the last syllable even passes from Kassian’s lips, Lorenzo snaps.
Flipping the liquor bottle around, he snatches it by the neck and swings hard, like a baseball bat, slamming the guy to his right in the head with it.
BAM.
The bottle shatters, glass scattering, vodka saturating the room as the guy falls limp. Knocked out. The guy to Lorenzo’s left grabs him, to try to stop him, but there’s not much he can do to ward off what’s happening. Still clutching the neck of the broken bottle, Lorenzo turns, not hesitating at all as he lunges, stabbing, the jagged glass plunging through the side of the guy’s neck.
The guy gurgles, gasping, panicked, and yanks the bottle out. Mistake. Big fucking mistake. Blood spurts from the wound, shooting out like a water fountain, not stopping even as he grasps his neck, holding tightly.
Lorenzo shoves the guy off the couch, unfazed as the blood splatters him.
Seconds. Mere seconds. If I would’ve blinked, I would’ve missed it all. Kassian reacts, shoving up out of the chair in alarm. His fingers wind tightly through my hair, forcing me to my feet, pulling me against him as he steps back, away from the table, putting some distance between the men. I cry out as pain radiates along my scalp, feeling like he’s ripping out clumps of hair. His hands shift, arm winding around my neck, putting me in a headlock from behind, my body shielding part of his.
Lorenzo’s on his feet, pulling a gun from beneath his shirt. He cocks it, aiming at Kassian. Aiming at me. My heart races.
“Hiding behind a woman?” Lorenzo asks. “Kind of a dick move, isn’t it, Jabba?”
“Sentimental fool,” Kassian says. “You would not risk hurting your precious Scarlet. You do not have the guts to pull the trigger.”
BANG.
The moment Kassian says it, a gunshot lights up the room. I scream, startled, my ears ringing as a bullet flies right by me. So close. Too close. Lorenzo didn’t flinch, didn’t move, not a flicker of emotion on his face when he pulled the fucking trigger.
Kassian shoves me, moving, trying to dodge the gunshot. Or maybe he’s trying to throw me into it, I don’t know. I don’t know. All I know is seconds later, in another blink, there’s movement. The guy on the couch, the one Lorenzo smacked with the bottle, comes to with a jolt, the loud bang rousing him back to consciousness.
Lorenzo doesn’t notice. The guy is in his blind spot.
“Lorenzo!” I scream.
Kassian’s hand clamps down on my mouth as he pins me against him, hissing, “Stupid girl, shut up.”
Lorenzo turns just as the guy hits him, fists swinging. Oh god. Lorenzo fires a shot that misses entirely, the bullet hitting the mantle over the fireplace, ricocheting my direction. I cry out into Kassian’s palm, panicked, my vision blurring, struggling to break free but it’s not working.
They start going at it, hitting, grabbing, the gun ripped from Lorenzo’s grasp and kicked across the floor. My stomach drops. Lorenzo’s at a disadvantage, not only because of his blind spot, but because Kassian’s guys are built for this. They’re trained to disarm, to subdue, to inflict pain...
“You see that?” Kassian whispers in my ear. “He is weak, your little plaything. He cannot save you.”
Lorenzo puts up one hell of a fight, using everything he’s got, but it isn’t long until he’s knocked down, dropping to his knees. Blood streams from his busted mouth as he breathes heavily.
My heart damn near stops.
“Aw, look at that, suka,” Kassian says. “Now you get to watch him take his last breath.”
I struggle, flailing, kicking my legs, swinging my arms. I throw my head back, slamming into Kassian’s chin, my elbow jabbing him in the rib, but it’s still not enough.
Fuck this.
I bite him.
My teeth clamp down on his palm. He rips his hand away from my mouth, cursing, and shoves me, throwing me to the floor by the fireplace.
I wince, my ankle twisting in the goddamn heels as I land... hard.
“Stay,” he barks, glaring at me, furious. Turning away, he stalks over to Lorenzo, shaking the hand that I bit before he snatches the gun from the floor. He steps right in front of Lorenzo, raising the gun, pointing it at his forehead. “It is a shame it has come to this, Mister Scar. You and I could have been friends.”
Lorenzo says nothing, just staring up at him, his tongue slowly running along his busted lip.
“But friends do not steal from each other,” Kassian continues. “My friends do not try to take what is mine. I may let them have a taste, from time to time, but the suka belongs to me. She is not theirs, and she is certainly not yours. The stupid girl, she does not know what is good for her. She let you believe you could keep her, she let you have parts of her that were not hers to give away, and that, Scar, is why we can never be friends.”
Anger flows through every syllable from Kassian’s lips, his hand shaking as he grips the gun. He doesn’t use them. He prefers his bare hands. But his finger is on the trigger, and I know he’s going to pull it. Any fucking second, the gunshot is going to echo through the air.
No. No. No.
Frantic, my eyes dart around, my mind working fast, looking for a way out. Where are Lorenzo’s guys? Where’d Declan go? Where are the others? Where’s Seven? Why aren’t they here, protecting him? Why is nobody doing anything to stop this?
Why isn’t Lorenzo fighting?
It makes no sense.
It’s insane.
A smile creeps up on Lorenzo’s lips. It sends a chill down my spine. Oh no. Oh god. Why the fuck is he smiling? A light laugh escapes him as he spits blood on Kassian’s shiny shoes, like none of this bothers him.
“You’re right, Aristotle,” Lorenzo says. “You and I could never be friends.”
As soon as he says that, I hear the front door of the house open. I don’t know who it is. I don’t know who’s coming. All I know is that if somebody doesn’t do something, this is it. It’s all over.
He’s going to die because of me.
I can’t let that happen.
Kicking off the heels, I shove up to my feet, grabbing the first thing I can reach—the fireplace poker. I grasp it tightly in my sweaty palms, clutching it with both hands as I lunge right for Kassian, ramming it in his back. It doesn’t go far in, the thick metal curving, my bruised body too damn weak to shove it through, but it pierces him enough to knock him forward.
His minion grabs me before I can do much else, ripping the poker out of my hand, out of Kassian’s back, before he throws me across the room. The gun goes off as soon as I hit the floor, the noise harrowing in my ears.
BANG.
I scream, desperately turning.
Don’t let him be dead.
I watch, eyes wide, as Lorenzo finally fights. He’s on his feet again, twisting Kassian’s arm, forcing him to pull the trigger again.
BANG.
The bullet grazes Kassian’s shoulder, throwing him off enough for Lorenzo to get the upper hand. He snatches the gun back as Kassian staggers, stunned.
People swarm the room as adrenaline flows through me, the rush nearly making me black out. The first person I see, the first face I encounter, is one I haven’t seen in a while.
Seven.
Behind him is Declan. Beside him, Frank. Declan and Frank carry guns, assault rifles, while Seven holds his hands up in front of him, almost defensively.
Lorenzo stands up straight, no hesitation, pumping a few bullets into Kassian’s last minion, dropping the guy before he points the gun at Kassian.
“You see, the thing is,” Lorenzo says, “I could never be friends with someone who doesn’t know the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek.”
He doesn’t pull the trigger.
No, he swings.
BAM.
Lorenzo beats him, slamming him in the face with the pistol, blow after blow, unrelenting. Lorenzo backs him up into the wall, hitting him so hard Kassian drops, sliding to the floor. His face is a streaked mask of red, blood pouring from him, coating Lorenzo’s hand.
“Damn, boss,” Declan says. “Just pop a bullet in the guy... would be more humane.”
“No,” I yell, my own voice surprising me. “Wait, you can’t. Don’t kill him!”
The guys cast me peculiar looks.
All except Lorenzo, who doesn’t even look my way. I’m invisible again. His attention is on his guys, scanning them as his expression darkens. He raises the gun again, aiming, this time at Seven.
I have no idea what to make of that, no idea what’s happening, but I don’t have time to figure it out. Kassian’s eyes are drifting closed, like he’s going unconscious.
I rush over, dropping to my knees beside him, grasping his bloody face and shaking him. “Kassian, look at me.”
His cold gray eyes meet mine.
“Tell me where she is,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Tell me where I can find Sasha.”
He curves an eyebrow. “Markel did not tell you?”
“Markel? No. Tell me what?”
He says nothing.
I hear Lorenzo behind me, talking to Seven, his voice angry as he says, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Jameson called me,” Seven says. “He was trying to get up with you. He told me about the club, and I just... I screwed up, I know, but I want to help, boss.”
“Don’t call me that,” Lorenzo says. “You shouldn’t have come. I told you I never wanted to see your face again. Hell, I told all of you to get out of here. None of you listen!”
Kassian turns his head, glancing past me, at the guys.
I’ve lost his attention.
“Listen to me, Kassian,” I say, making him look my way again. “Tell me where she is so I can go to her. If there’s any heart in you at all, if you love her... if you love me, like you say... you’ll tell me how to find her.”
He reaches for me, his fingertips brushing against my cheek. He’s wiping away my tears, I realize.
I’m crying.
“Always so beautiful when you cry,” he says, his fingers tracing my jawline before running down my neck, his hand settling on my throat. “What is it you used to say? Face your fears and wipe your tears?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then wipe your tears, pretty girl,” he says, “because the time has come to face your fears.”
He grips my throat tightly, and I gasp, shoving against his chest to push away but he yanks me toward him instead.
“Oh, whoa, whoa!” Declan yells. “What the fuck?”
Someone grabs me, dragging me away from Kassian. I don’t have to look to know it’s Lorenzo. I can smell him, can feel him as he wraps his arms around me from behind.
Declan steps in front of me, taking my place beside Kassian, slamming the butt of his gun into his face. “Hands off, dickwad.”
“That’s enough,” Lorenzo says, his voice firm.
Declan casts him a look that asks ‘why?’ but he says nothing, stalling what he’s doing.
“Get him out of here,” Lorenzo says. “Put him in my trunk. And if you let him die, I swear to fuck...”
“Got it, boss,” Frank says. “We’ll keep him alive.”
The guys snatch ahold of Kassian, pulling him to his feet. He sways, knees damn near buckling, not making it easy for them as they haul him away. The second he’s out of my line of sight, panic rushes through me. I shove out of Lorenzo’s grasp, darting after them.
“Kassian, please!” I yell, stopping in the middle of the foyer as they reach the front door. I’m not above begging at this point. “Please, tell me what you did with our daughter!”
Kassian stalls, resisting, fighting the guys as he turns to look at me. “You want to know where kitten is?”
“Yes!”
“I would take you to her, if I could,” he says. “I would love nothing more. It would be my pleasure, truly, to choke the life out of you again, just like I did her.”
“No,” I whisper, dizzy, as I shake my head. “No, no, no... you didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Don’t do this, Kassian. Don’t... please!”
“Too late,” he says. “So go to hell, suka... if you are lucky, maybe you will find her there.”
My knees give out on me. The world spins as I drop. Lorenzo is there, grabbing me before I hit the floor, arms winding tightly around me, but he’s not strong enough to keep me from falling apart.
I choke on a sob, crying, inhuman noise echoing from my chest as I struggle to catch my breath. My heart, I can feel it shattering. It hurts. Oh god, it burns. My lungs won’t work anymore. They’re nothing but ash, charred by flames. No, no, no...
“I’ve got you,” Lorenzo says, his voice quiet as he holds me. “It’s okay... I got you.”
The strength fades from my body as those words reach inside of me, gripping tight. Days of torture, weeks of sorrow, months of heartache catch up to me all at once. I collapse into myself, unable to find the words to tell him he’s wrong. It’s not okay. It’ll never be okay. They just hauled my best chance to find my daughter out of that door, and my fear of never seeing her again is feeling more and more real.
On my knees, curled over, I hold onto myself, trying to keep from breaking but it’s hard. So hard.
I don’t believe it. I refuse to believe it. She’s not gone. I’d know it if she was. A mother always knows. I’d feel it in my heart. A piece of me exists inside of that little girl, and it has to still be out there. It can’t just be gone.
Who knows how long I lay here, just like that, how long Lorenzo kneels beside me, letting me cry. It feels like forever. Lifetimes pass. He takes off his coat, draping it over me, covering me up as he rubs my back.
He says anything for a long moment, consoling me in silence.
His hand stops moving eventually. I feel him tense, pulling away, putting enough distance between us that I lose his warmth, coldness creeping through me, ice in my veins.
“Morgan,” he says, his voice quiet as he whispers my name. My name. “Open your eyes, baby.”
I raise my head up when he says that, but I don’t get far enough to look at him. I freeze when my gaze reaches the front door, still hanging wide open. Markel stands there, barely visible within the shadows of the front porch, but that’s not what gets me. No. It’s the small body just inside the entryway, a few feet in front of him, not far from where I sit. Bare feet, white nightgown, wild brown hair—longer than I remember, but everything else is so much the same. She stares at me, her dark eyes wide like she’s seeing a ghost, like I’m a figment of her imagination. Sasha. She’s not moving, not making a sound, but I can see her chest rising and falling fast, like she can’t breathe very well.
“Sunshine?” I whisper, finding my voice.
Her bottom lip trembles, tears filling her eyes. “Mommy?”
I nod, opening my arms, choking on a sob at the sound of her sweet voice calling me that again. Mommy.
I don’t have to say another word.
She runs right for me, loudly crying, flinging herself at me so hard she nearly knocks me back onto the floor. I wrap my arms around her, clinging to her, feeling her warmth. My heart. My innocence. The light of my life. I squeeze my eyes shut, and for a brief second I wonder if I’m dreaming. I wonder if I’ll open my eyes and all of this will be gone. It’s cruel, the thought that maybe it’s just all in my head, but her voice washes over me again, and I push those thoughts away.
If this is a dream, whatever... I’m okay with never waking up again.
“You found me, Mommy,” she says, her voice shaking. “You found me!”
I open my eyes again, pulling back just enough to look at her. She smiles as I wipe the tears from her flushed cheeks. I glance past her, around the foyer, being greeted by nothing more than silence.
The front door is closed now. Lorenzo is gone.
There’s nobody here, nobody but us.
“I did,” I whisper, smoothing her hair as I return her smile, looking back at her. “I promised, didn’t I?”