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“He should have taken more men with him,” I continue my one-sided dialogue with the dog. “When I asked Keva why he left so many men here instead of bringing them along, she said Drago didn’t want to risk leaving the house unguarded. There are twelve-foot concrete walls around the compound, for crying out loud!”
Shaking my head, I turn away from the window. “Was he always so thick-headed?”
Zeus straightens his ears.
“Yeah, I bet he was.”
My eyes fall to the phone in my hand. I’ve had a death grip on it since the moment Drago left with his men. It’s been hours. The edges of the damn thing are imprinted into my palm from squeezing it so hard, waiting for Drago to message me back. But he won’t. And I’m left agonizing and worrying if he’s okay.
Why would he when only yesterday I told him that I don’t even like him? So, I messaged him instead. Eight times. There were no replies. Then, I considered calling him. It would be pointless, though, since he wouldn’t be able to clearly hear me, but the sound of his voice would reassure me that he is alive. In the end, I decided against calling because I didn’t want to distract him from . . . from whatever they are doing.
“I can’t take this anymore,” I whisper and run out of the room.
The house is eerily quiet. The thud of my feet and the clicking of Zeus’s nails are the only sounds that echo through the hallways while I dash down three flights of stairs. When I reach the ground floor, I turn left and head to the east wing, stopping at the last door. It’s the room where Mirko spends most of his time. My hand is shaking as I grab the knob and walk inside.
Mirko is sitting at a desk covered in various electronic equipment, with keyboards, wires, and power cables running every which way. Six big monitors showing the camera feeds from around the grounds are mounted on the wall in front of him. His two-way radio has been jammed onto what little room remains on the desktop. The chatter of people over the airwaves is coming through loud and clear.
“Sienna?” Keva’s voice comes from my right.
I turn and find her sitting on a sofa that’s been pushed next to a wall. She’s holding a big mug in her hands, steam rising above the rim. Tara is snuggled up beside Keva, legs tucked under her.
“Are you guys having a late-night party?” I make myself smile.
Keva cocks her head to the side, giving me a pointed look. Her eyes fall to my hips, and I release the hem of my sweater which I’ve been fidgeting with, and hide both my hands behind my back so she won’t notice the shaking.
“He’s going to be okay, Sienna,” she says in a calm voice.
“Oh, I know.” I shrug and place my hand on Zeus’s neck.
“You can join us if you want.”
The sound of gunshots explodes from one of the radios. I freeze.
“And listen to people killing each other?” I laugh. “No, thanks. I’m going to go crash now. Lack of sleep isn’t good for the health of the skin. See you tomorrow.”
I turn on my heel and leave the room, slamming the door closed after me. Despite the barrier, the rat-a-tat of the firefight is loud and clear, and each bang reverberates inside my chest. I run down the hallway and across the foyer toward the front door while Zeus trails after me. When I burst outside, the guard on duty at the front of the house looks at me in surprise.
“I’m taking Zeus out to pee,” I say and take off toward the grounds on the left.
I run around the mansion’s east wing until I reach the last window on this side of the house, then squeeze myself behind the shrubs that grow underneath. Light pours through the open sash, and sounds. Shouting. Gunfire. I can hear it all streaming from the radio in Mirko’s office. Leaning my back against the cold exterior wall, I close my eyes.
My mind is spinning, an avalanche of thoughts about Drago covered in blood barrels through. Overwhelmed, I slouch forward and rock myself back and forth as my insides tie up in knots. I don’t realize I’ve chewed off my nails until there’s nothing left of them. I nearly massacred them earlier, when I was waiting for Drago to reply to my texts, and now I’ve finished the job. It’s not pretty, but it helps to stifle the urge to scream.
Suddenly, Mirko starts yelling. I’m too distraught to understand everything he’s saying, but I catch Adam’s name and something about the number of security guards being greater than expected. The sound of gunfire raging pours from the radio, not just several single gunshots like before, but a full-blown skirmish. The terror that has been brewing in the pit of my stomach grows, spreading through my entire body. I can’t breathe. It feels like I’m being attacked by a wild animal. It’s pawing at my chest, each resounding shot is a slash to my flesh by vicious claws.
I bury my face between my knees and press my palms over my ears as hard as I can. I should have done something. Anything. Maybe, if I told Drago that I’m terrified something bad will happen to him, he would have stayed here, but I was unable to make the words leave my mouth. I was too scared to confess how fucking worried I am about him.
Something wet brushes the back of my palm. I lift my head, finding Zeus standing in front of me.
“He’s not going to die, is he?” I choke out.
The dog leans forward, his big dark eyes regarding me with a question of his own. It’s as if he’s asking me, “Why do you care?”
“I don’t care,” I mumble and pick at the brilliant red leaves of the burning bush next to me, striping the branch bare of its beautiful colors. And then another. And another. The vibrant reds that have always brought me joy when I’ve played outside with the dogs are now mocking me. Reminding me of my nightmarish thoughts.
Drago.
Blood.
