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“Great.” He rests his hands on his knees and continues coughing. “So glad I hurried out to the middle of nowhere for this abuse.”
“That’s nothing compared to what those sick fucks are probably doing to your nephew right now,” I rage.
That seems to remind Merlin that he’s not here for a social call. He straightens. “Noted.”
Behind us, there’s a scuffle and low, angry voices.
“Let go of me!” Charlotte snaps.
“Char,” Murphy pleads but it’s too late.
She throws the box at her uncle’s feet. “What have you done?” she screams.
“Calm down, girl.” He bends over and picks up the bloody box. He reads the note, then scowls. “What was in it?”
“A toe!” Charlotte sobs. “Carter’s fucking toe.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Merlin breathes. “Where is it?”
“On ice in the fridge!” Jigsaw shouts from somewhere behind us. “Gotta keep it cold.”
Charlotte breaks down into sobs that tear at my heart. She collapses against me. I hold onto her, stroking her back but not saying a word.
I lift my gaze and Rock jerks his head in the direction of the clubhouse. “We need to sit down with everyone.” He shifts his angry gaze to Merlin. “That includes you.”
“All right.”
My brothers stop and either squeeze Charlotte’s shoulder, pat her back, or offer some words of comfort on their way out. Merlin doesn’t even look at Charlotte and me as he follows them out of the house.
“Let’s go up to the clubhouse,” I whisper to her when only Rock and Murphy remain. “I want you there where it’s safe.”
Charlotte sniffles and lifts her head. “Okay.”
Trinity helps her collect a few things, and they meet us in the kitchen. Tension and fear pull Charlotte’s mouth down, but she doesn’t shed another tear. She’s eerily calm and stoic as we lock the house and file outside.
A sob escapes her as we pass Carter’s place.
“It’s okay, Sunshine.”
“We’re going to find him,” Rock says.
Not whole, though.
I push that thought away. Carter’s stronger than anyone gives him credit for. He’s going to be okay.
Tension rules the clubhouse when we arrive. Hope and Lilly hurry to take Charlotte from me. Lilly leads her over to the living room couch, but Hope curls her fingers around my forearm, stopping me from going directly into the war room. “How bad is this?”
“Bad, Hope. Someone grabbed Carter.”
“No,” she whispers.
My gaze lands on Merlin standing by the bar with Wrath. Not a friendly conversation. More like Wrath’s guarding Merlin to make sure none of us kill him.
“Charlotte’s uncle has the answers.” I hope.
“We’ll take care of Charlotte.” The intense stare Hope drills into my skull hints at her bloodthirsty, protect-the-family-at-all-costs side. “Bring him home.”
“I intend to.”
