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Checking my holsters, I make sure that both of my guns are fully loaded and ready. I pocket my phone and grab the keys to lock upRush,Maddox hot on my heels.
Neither of us says a damn thing as we book it to the Rover. Madd slides into the driver's seat and has the SUV already on and ready to take off the moment my ass hits the passenger seat. We fly out of the parking lot and for once, I don't even blink over the insanely unsafe and ridiculous way that he drives.
Maddox syncs his phone to Bluetooth and calls Ella repeatedly. The voicemail tone cuts through every fucking time and when her sweet voice fills the car, it kills both of us a little more. By the time we've hit the first patch of traffic, we're both vibrating with rage, anticipation, and bloodlust.
"Tell me exactly what happened," he demands, his voice monotone and detached, telling me just how far he's gone. My head swivels in his direction and my eyes narrow. I release an irritated growl at his insinuation as if I had anything to do with this.
I did. If anything happens to her, it's no one's fault but mine.
Inhaling deeply, I force myself to stay calm as I relay the last few hours since we parted ways at our house. He doesn't respond, acknowledge or question anything I've said. The only reason I know he's even listening to me is the slight tick of his jaw, the flexing of his hands on the steering wheel, and the way that his driving gets incrementally worse with every single part of my story.
When we're two minutes out from her house, I pull out my 9mm and check once again that it's loaded and ready, almost like a nervous tick. I know it's perfect and prepared for battle. It always is. But, I need the reassurance that I can take down anyone, handle anything, and make sure she's okay.
"So, what's the plan?" I murmur, my quiet voice sounding like a fucking atom bomb in the silent, tense vehicle. Maddox doesn't answer for a moment as he absentmindedly switches lanes without even checking traffic. I tense in my seat, not fucking prepared to die by collision before we even get to her.
"If something happened to her, anything at fucking all, I will never forgive you," he states matter-of-factly. My heart squeezes at his words. The vice is so tight that I almost choke on the pain it causes me. I don't know if it's his words alone, the likelihood of losing my brother, one of my best friends, that causes the bone-deep pain, or something else.
I think it's the fact that not only do I know he means every word with all that he's got or the fact that I already know I'll never forgive myself either. None of them will and I won't blame them one fucking bit.
"Me neither," I grunt as we pull up into the empty driveway.No, no, no."Fuck!" I shout, throwing my door open. Before swinging my leg out, I shoot my gaze back to Madd's, knowing this is the last time he may ever acknowledge my existence. So much passes between us in those few seconds.
She has to be okay.
Her above everything else.
If she's hurt, if she's dead, so are you.
Be safe, brother…
I nod, hoping he knows that I completely understand.
And then, we move.
We both slide out of the SUV at the same time, closing the doors silently before we move toward the front door. We both pause when we reach the house, flattening our backs to the wall and moving with expert precision. I'm two steps in front of him, in a formation that's missing two members of our team but is strong nonetheless. Madd is the assassin, the clean, perfect shot and I'm the muscle, the tank, and the first inside,always.
Listening to the sounds around us, I take note of the quiet traffic a few streets over. The ever-persistent planes that fly over the city. Distantly, I can hear the static of downtown; cars, people, public transportation. I can hear the horn from a barge on the bay. But here, in Isabella's driveway, I hearnothing. I don't hear voices inside, I don't hear screaming or shouting.
My gut clenches and my stomach drops as the thought I already had when we first pulled up is reinforced.
She's not here.
And if she is, she's not okay.
Our SUV, as well as whatever and the fuck Quan was driving, is gone.Why didn't I pay attention to the other car?Fuck! Maddox draws me out of my thoughts with a hand signal aiming toward the front door and a head nod. Right. Keep going.
We keep our backs pressed to the wall for as long as we can before a garden separates us from a small front porch. We move swiftly and silently up the three steps and onto the landing pad outside of the front door. Once again, I listen, hoping and praying to the God I've long since abandoned that she's inside, with her headphones on, dancing around the house and packing.
My heart squeezes again at the vision. She's so fucking beautiful. I should have told her how perfect she is. I should have told her that her blue-green eyes are seared into my soul and that they have been from that very first day. I should have told her that from the first moment I saw her, held her, heard her warm, throaty voice, that she's been the only thing tethering me to this life, this world.
To my humanity.
She's my anchor, my light, my fucking soul. She's a gift and I squandered herinstead of cherishing her and reminding her that she's not just a woman, a victim, an orphan.
Isabella Hudson is fucking everything.
I'll tell her when I see her, I fucking swear I'll fix it. I just need her to be okay.
Maddox places a flat palm on my back in a signal to get fucking moving. I ready my gun, reach up and grasp the door handle. I turn it and am both surprised and not, to find it unlocked. It opens easily and quietly. The house is dark and as I suspected, silent as fuck. But not just quiet, eerily so.
