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“You fucking fool,” he snarls. “She’s our key to Tolya’s freedom. He’d be here, right here with us now, if you’d just done what I fucking told you to do.”
“Forgive me for not trusting your word.”
Oleg chuckles. “You underestimate my pull, boy. As always. Patterson knows better than to fuck with me. He won’t go back on his word.”
Panic lances through me.What is he doing with Martin?
Demyen stiffens as well. “The deal was with Everett. No one else.”
“Willow.” I pull myself out of Demyen’s safe embrace and beeline toward her room. “I need to see Willow.”
“Don’t bother.”
My blood runs cold.
I don’t have to turn around to hear the fury in Demyen’s voice. “What the fuck did you do?”
“What you should have done the second he offered you the deal!” Oleg roars.
What deal?
Where is Willow?
I don’t stick around to hear them argue. I need to see her. I need to know she’s okay.
The moment I step out into the courtyard, it’s extremely clear that my little girl is anything but okay.
Men are scattered everywhere, dead or grievously wounded. Mako is facedown near Willow’s room, his hand still on his gun. I race to her bedroom door and have some difficulty opening it—because Bambi’s unconscious body is slumped against it.
There’s a sizeable gash on her forehead. She’s alive, she’s breathing, but I don’t know if there are any other injuries. I carefully move her enough to squeeze through the door, then do my best to drag her off to the side until we can get help.
The thought of getting help has me instantly worried for Roxy. She’d come over to help Bambi with Willow and our new dog; where is she now?
I don’t have to look far. Roxy is crumpled at the foot of Willow’s bed. Like Bambi, she’s still alive and breathing, but there’s no telling if she endured any other injuries while protecting my baby girl.
Who, to my horror, is nowhere to be found.
She’s gone.
My baby is gone.
A wail fills the air. I fall to my knees and double over the side of her bed. It’s clear she was dragged out, probably terrified out of her mind. Her teddy bears are scattered across the floor and droplets of blood speckle her pillow and fitted sheet.
The wail grows louder.
It takes a solid minute for me to realize—it’smemaking that noise.
I’m screaming. Words fail me as I struggle to breathe, to think, to do anything other than pour out my terror and pain and grief over losing my sweet baby to some monster.
Is she hurt? Is that her blood?
I never notice the darkening of the doorway. I barely feel Demyen’s strong arms scoop me up and hold me to him. I’m numb. Beyond numb.
“I’ve got you.” Demyen whispers as he holds me and gently rocks me in his arms. I don’t know how it works, but it does. My screams melt into sobs and I’m bawling, gasping, clutching his shirt like it’s my only lifeline. “I’ve got you. We’ll get her back. I swear, Clara, I’m going to bring her back to you.”
I hiccup. Gasp for air. “Where… where is she?”
His arms tighten around me. He buries his face in my hair like he, too, is struggling to accept what he sees.
