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I need to hang up so I can coordinate with the security detail at the school who are supposed to make sure shit like this doesn’thappen. Heads will fucking roll for this. But the thought of Clara all alone? It doesn’t sit right with me.
“I’ll be there in ten.”
I hang up before she has the chance to ask. She doesn’t need to know how fast we’re driving.
She doesn’t know just how far I’m willing to go.
Clara flies out of the Lexus the second she sees me pull in with Pavel. Her eyes are red and swollen. She’s no longer crying, but she still says my name with a sob. “Dem!”
I wrap her up in my arms without a second thought. Fuck anyone who sees—all that matters is making sure she’s okay, she’s safe, and she’s not going anywhere without me glued to her side.
When she buries her face in my chest, I kiss the top of her head. “I’m here. I’m right here, baby. We’ll get this figured out.”
Pavel’s already beelined for the security supervisor, who looks a combination of sheepish and terrified for his life.
Good. I want answers and I want them now.
“Come on.” I nudge Clara toward the office. “Let’s go get our girl back.”
She nods and shifts enough to walk with me, but she doesn’t pull away and I won’t let her if she tries. She’s mine, and people are about to find out what happens when they try to take what’s mine.
“The fuck happened?” I ignore the pointed glares I receive from the school staff awkwardly pacing around the perimeter. The kids are long gone, so I’m not going to hold back. And if I weren’t comforting Clara, I wouldn’t be holding back off the security team lead when he’s within arm’s reach.
The man winces. “We weren’t going to hand her over, I swear. But he pulled all the stops and had the credentials?—”
“The fuck do you mean?”
He sighs and pulls out his phone to show me the camera feed. Sure enough, Martin fucking Patterson strolls into the camera’s view with one hand on his belt and the other holding up his badge. He goes to the desk, chats up the secretary, and flashes his badge again. She does genuinely look uncertain, and at first, it looks like she’s refusing him access or information. But he flashes his badge again, tosses something onto the counter, and whatever he says makes her visibly pale. She slowly nods, then picks up the phone.
The guard fast forwards until we see Willow being led to the desk by a teacher.
I want to crush the phone in my fist.
The kid looks terrified. She’s quiet, she nods and takes his hand, but that is purefearplastered all over her face.
When they get to the door, she suddenly digs her heels in and refuses to leave with him. He has to pick her up, kicking and screaming, just to get her to his car.
I’m going to murder someone. And right now, glancing around the increasingly silent school campus, I see a lot of viable candidates.
“What’s his excuse?” I growl.
The guard hands Pavel a stack of half-rolled papers. “This is the warrant he served, claiming it was in the interest of protecting the child.”
Pavel frowns as he reads the warrant. “Fuck. This is legit.”
“Who signed it?”
He squints at the signature. “Oh.” The way he says it, and the way his face suddenly ticks into something between amused and surprised, gives me hope. “Judge Cartwell.”
Bingo.
“Get Bambi on the line. And are you still on good terms with Rick?”
Pavel nods. “Already on it.”
In the not-too-far-off distance, myvorsare rounding up the school administration—receptionist included—and interrogating them about every detail of this fucking disaster.
“What’s going on?” Clara looks at the group, then peers up at me, fresh tears drying on the tips of her long lashes. “What’re we doing?”
