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I take two determined steps, ready to dash into the parking lot. My plan is to search under every car, in every car, every pothole, and every bus, but then two powerful arms wrap around me, bringing my frenzied progression to a halt.
The scream that rips from my lungs doesn’t sound human. It’s a primal cry filled with an ungodly mix of grief and fear.
“I’ve got you,” Desmond whispers against my hair, strands clinging to my tear streaked cheeks. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. We’ll find him, I promise.”
I don’t stop screaming, even as his whispered reassurances attempt to offer solace. I don’t stop, not even as my legs give way and we both tumble to the ground.
He’s wrong.
I’m not safe, because when I find Milo, I’ll gut the person who took him from me, and I’ll watch as the life bleeds from their eyes.
I’m not safe, because I’ll never feel the same again. The core of who I was is now irreparably shattered, and all that’s left is a relentless storm of anguish and a thirst for retribution that only blood will quench.
Chapter Seventeen
There’sa tracker in his shoe.
Breathing is essential to life, but I can’t draw a breath until my brother is safe and home with me.
There’s a tracker in his shoe.
Words blur, slurring and melding together.
There’s a tracker in his shoe.
Only one thought swims in my head—find Milo.
“Dove, I need you to look at me.” Voices bleed together, merging into a background of white noise. “Little dove, I need you to come back to me. Can you hear me?”
“She’s in shock. Back away.” The voices persist, but none belong to Milo.
Cold ice is seeping into my bones, engulfing my body. My teeth chatter, a symphony of distress.
The room around me morphs into focus, colors sharpening from the hazy fog. Faces come into view, concern etched on their features, but their voices are distant, muffled.
There’s a tracker in his shoe.
My mind repeats the mantra like a broken record, a drumbeat of urgency and dread. I need to find him.
“Charlotte, can you hear me?”
I nod mechanically, my gaze still fixed on the invisible threads that tie me to my brother. My purpose is singular, and nothing else matters.
There’s a tracker in his shoe.
The violation of those who took him weighs on me, but I’ll turn their offense into their demise. They won’t see me coming, won’t anticipate the storm I’ll bring.
“Charlotte, we need you to focus.”
I tear my gaze away from the invisible threads, meeting the eyes of the person in front of me. Their lips move, forming words, but I can’t hear them over the pounding of my heart.
There’s a tracker in his shoe.
A wave of determination crashes through me, breaking the ice that paralyzes my veins. I’ll find Milo, I’ll unravel this web of deceit they have spun, and they’ll regret the day they crossed me.
“Dove, stay with me.”
There’s a tracker in his shoe.
