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We don’t know the tortured state Beckett could be in. He already went through so much when he lost his arm. I can’t imagine what else he could have lost.
More importantly, I need to see Declan with my own two eyes. I need to know that he’s alive and that he’s here—safe.
Beckett throws open the passenger door. He walks over slow and steady to us. He’s covered in blood. His shirt and pants are ripped like he was just attacked by a mountain lion. And his hand has a shirt wrapped around it.
But none of that is what has me concerned. My heart is beating a thousand miles a second because of the look in his eyes—complete sorrow.
“I’m so sorry,” Beckett says.
“You lost?” Langston snaps a little too harshly.
I put my hand on Langston’s shoulder and shake my head, trying to remind Langston that even if he did lose, it’s not Beckett’s fault. He did the best he could.
But I don’t think that’s what Beckett is saying.
It’s clear he fought.
He played the game and did the dares, based on the injuries he has. He played the sacrifice card, and from the looks of it, he sacrificed his other hand. He already told us that he won.
“Corbin didn’t give you Declan even after you won, did he?” I ask.
“He gave me a child, but that child wasn’t Declan. I’m sorry.”
“How did you know he wasn’t Declan?” Langston asks.
“I know Rose and Atlas. I know their features, their mannerisms, their size. This child was bigger, older. His skin was tanner. He didn’t share any of Rose, Atlas, or Liesel’s features. I have some of his hair if you want to run a DNA test, but the child isn’t yours, Liesel.”
A tear starts to roll, but I wipe it away quickly.
“Where is the child?” Langston asks, still not convinced.
“He’s with his parents. I did a quick search of the missing child reports. There was one from a few months ago that matched his description. He has a sister with reddish-brown hair that matches his.”
Langston looks at me like he needs my assurance.
I sit down, right in the middle of the driveway. I don’t have the energy to stand anymore. I just need a minute to process all of this.
“We should run the DNA test just to confirm, but it doesn’t sound like that child is mine,” I say.
“Then, where is Declan?” Langston asks.
Dead?
Missing?
With Corbin?
I don’t know the answer, but we have to find out. Until I know for sure where Declan is, I have to keep searching, hunting. I’m the huntress, after all, and I won’t give up. Corbin and Maxwell are still out there. They could still have him.
Langston sits down next to me on one side. Beckett slumps down on the other.
Seeing his bandaged hand breaks me. “Oh my god, you went through all that pain for nothing. You lost your other hand for nothing.”
Beckett shakes his head. “It wasn’t for nothing. I saved that kid. I don’t regret it.” He unwraps his hand, revealing boils and burns all over his skin. “And I didn’t lose my hand, just my sense of touch and attractiveness until this heals.”
Langston whips out his phone. “I’m going to call for a doctor to look at those ASAP. I already have specialists flying out tomorrow for Siren and Zeke.”
He stands and walks a short distance away to make the call.
