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I sank down in a chair and hung my head. I couldn’t stand feeling so helpless. Did Fee witness Matt being shot? Was she out there, hurting because I hadn’t protected her?
Because Matt was lying there because I hadn’t protected them.
“He will make it,” Gabe assured me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I locked eyes with him.
“And we’ll find Fee and get her back,” he said, reading my mind as only big brothers could.
I looked at the other people in the waiting room: Sophie, Cara, and my mother talking softly amongst themselves; Franco, sitting lonely in a chair; Cristo whose expression was as fierce as the determination coursing through my veins.
“She belongs to me,” I said.
Gabe nodded.
“I’ll burn down the world to get her back. And when I do, she’s going to be mine forever.” My words were cold, resolute. And spoken with absolute certainty.
I would never let Fee go again, no matter what it took. She was my destiny. My woman. The one who challenged me. Who made me want to be better, to do better.
For her.
I was hers and she was mine. And nobody else could have her. Not even her father.
Mine.
“I don’t care what it takes.”
Gabe nodded again. “Nice to see you’re finally pulling your head out of your hot-tempered ass. Maybe you’re not as useless as I thought you were. A little late, but better late than never.”
I glared at Gabe, and he glared back. Anybody else, and I would’ve choked them to death.
My big brother teasing me in this situation? And I could even muster a tiny speck of gratefulness.
I wasn’t alone in this. I never was.
Fee tried to tell me. I was just a little slow to get it.
I needed to tell her once I had her back. Needed to tell her she was right all along.
And how we both would never be alone again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
When Declan finally unlocked the door to my room—other than to bring me food, I was mad enough to rip his face apart with my fingernails.
Worried and mad.
Did Matt die because of me? Did Alex realize I hadn’t left because I wanted to, even though he’d barked at me at the club?
I narrowed my brows and focused back on Declan. What the hell was he thinking, locking me in my room for three days?
I shot him a murderous look. “You’re dead,” I said.
He just chuckled, not the least bit intimidated.
Fuck.
The way he showed no respect whatsoever—had shown no respect when they hunted me down in Malta.
