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Home.
I don’t know where that is anymore. The old house. The new house. I want home to be with her. I want to make up for the lost time and ugly doubts. More than anything, I want to trust her. I didn’t know how important that was to me until this moment.
“Cara.” I hesitate, weighing my words, but I don’t know how to soften the blow. “Someone took the kids.”
“What?” she exclaims. “When? Who?”
“One of my enemies. They intercepted them when the driver dropped them off at school.”
“That’s horrible.” Her voice trembles. “What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to get them back.” I grind my teeth. “I promise you.”
“Why?” she cries out. “What do they want?”
“They’re asking for money, but I don’t think they’re interested in the cash. They just want to hit me where I’ll feel it the hardest.”
“Please tell me you have an idea where they took them.”
“I have the location before we lost my driver’s phone signal, but I have a good tracker. I’ll find them.”
“I’m so scared.” She exhales with a shaky breath. “I don’t even want to think how they feel.”
That’s why I contemplated not telling her, but I reckoned keeping her in the dark would’ve been crueler. “Pack your things. When I get back, I’m taking you home with me.” When only silence stretches, I say, “To the old house.”
“Mr. Russo,” she utters with a note of protest. “We need to talk first, and now is hardly the time.”
“You’re right.” I wipe a hand over my brow. “We’ll talk when I’m back.”
“Please bring them home. I beg you.”
“I will.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I know how to take care of myself.”
“Just promise me.”
The same tenderness of earlier creeps up on me, catching me off guard. “I promise.”
“Okay,” she says, sounding close to tears.
The driver gives me a thumbs-up sign.
“I’ve got to go,cara. I’ll see you soon.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Soon.”
My gut clenches when I end the call. I hate every minute of submitting her to this stress because I know how it feels when anxiety eats away at your insides.
I’m barely settled in the back next to my uncle when my phone rings.
“Go,” I tell the driver as I answer the call.
It’s the principal, informing me after the morning’s roll call that the kids didn’t show up for school. As I can’t involve the police, I tell her they caught a stomach bug. She ensures me she’ll send an email to the parents to warn them there’s a virus doing the rounds. I thank her for her efficiency and hang up to dial Heidi.
My uncle shoots me a nervous look but wisely turns his face to the window. After bringing Heidi up to speed with the turn of events, I shove my phone in my pocket and put everything out of my mind except for the manhunt that’s about to begin.
