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I shake my head. My heart hurts for Gianna, but also for Dom. They had to live through this, and it became their normal. This should never be any kid's reality. We continue our pursuit in silence. Every so often there's a rumble from the traffic above us. The odd drip of water from a pipe.

I follow behind Dom, and as we round the corner he holds up one hand, withdrawing his gun with the other.

There’s a steel door we edge toward, and once we get there Dom heaves as he pushes it open. Brighter lights and hard flooring greet us. On the left, an empty guard station, a simple chair and small wooden table that’s in front of another door.

When that one opens, my heart beats so fast it’s all I can hear in my ears.

Blood. That’s all I can focus on first. Tate is slumped in a corner of a jail cell, beside a body bleeding out.

I rush over through the open door to his cell, kneeling beside him. I tap his face.

He groans in response, his eyes not focusing.

Dom bends down and picks up something. Whatever it is, it’s enough for him to erupt into a fit of rage, pounding his fist against the floor.

“Tate, where is Gianna?” I can’t hide the despair in my voice.

Part of me wishes, as bad as it sounds, that Gianna was the one left in the cell.

“Gone,” he croaks. “She was here, Colten. And she slit Tomasso’s throat. He was going to take her to her uncles. They’re in with Tatiana.”

Holy fuck.

I glance over, and my heart stops. He’s holding up a black pointed nail, the same one that scratches my back. That runs through my hair. And I bet she’s going to be pissed it’s missing. Tate coughs and I grip his face. “Stay with me, Tate.”

Blood is covering his hand. There’s a knife slit in his jeans and a blade in his other hand, but he’s too weak to even attempt to use it.

“Where is Gianna?” I repeat. “Tate, please.”

“Getting help.”

“On her own?”

He nods weakly.

I turn to Dom; with every second that passes, I’m becoming more helpless here. “Where would she go from here?”

Dom swallows. “She could be anywhere in the tunnels.”

A fresh wave of rage washes over me. “Think, Dom! From here, where would Gianna run? What exit would she go to?”

His eyes go wide. “The cemetery. The fucking cemetery! How could I forget!”

He paces, pulling at his hair. “We used to lay flowers on my mom's grave, and G would always disappear and run down the tunnels. There’s this mausoleum that hides it. Fuck.”

“There’s a fucking entrance we don’t have covered?” I shout.

Shit.

“We need to move,” I command.

Dom leans in, picking up Tate and lifting him over his shoulder. Gianna is alive. That’s all I can focus on. I have to get to her. I’m fucking proud of my girl.

I tap the earpiece of my comms, and Hunter's voice comes through. “Update?”

“We’ve got Tate; he’s not in a good way. Gianna got free. There is an exit from the tunnel in the cemetery. I need men moving in there now,” I shout into the comms.

“Copy that.”