Emma stands there, shaking so badly she has to hold the wall to stay upright.
Her eyes are wild. Red. Swollen. Haunted.
She told me earlier she wanted to punch me. Honestly, I wish she would. I deserve a hell of a lot more than a punch.
She looks at me like I’m the only solid thing left in a world that’s suddenly tilted sideways.
“Liam—” she breathes, and the sound of my name nearly knocks me flat.
I step inside without waiting for her invite, shut the door behind us, and lock every lock.
Then I pull her into my arms.
She collapses against me instantly, fists twisted in the front of my coat, face buried in my chest.
Her whole body trembles.
I wrap my arms around her and press my cheek to her hair, trying to shield her with every part of me, like I can block out the entire damn world if I just hold tight enough.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, though we both know it’s not. “I’ve got you.”
She sobs into me, raw, shaking, and gutted, which makes me fractured internally. I stroke her back, her hair, the side of her face. Anything to anchor her. Anything to keep her from falling apart.
Her voice cracks. “Liam, they took my baby. They took my sister.”
“I know.” The words scrape out of me. “I know, sweetheart. And I swear to God, I’ll do anything,anythingto bring them home.”
Her lip trembles. “What if they hurt them?”
“They won’t,” I say instantly. “Not if they want to live long enough to regret it. Nik’s men are already moving. We’re going to get them back, Emma. I swear it.”
A tear slides down her cheek.
“Please don’t lie to me,” she whispers. “I can’t take any more lies.”
Her knees give out a little, and I catch her, guiding her to the couch.
“I’m not lying,” I say. “I swear on my?—”
The words die in my throat.
Because when I look up, a framed photo on her entryway wall catches my eye.
A boy about kindergarten age smiles broadly in a school picture, missing his front teeth.
His hair is a light brown, with hints of blonde in the messy flop-top of a cut.
He wears a spring-green T-shirt, which makes his big, striking green eyes stand out even more.
Green eyes.
Likemine.
My stomach drops straight through the floor. A cold, dizzy rush spins through me, and everything slows down—my breathing, my pulse.
Cherub lips.
Freckles across the nose.
