Mass doesn’t come home.
I keep waiting for him to appear on that elevator. I imagine him striding into the kitchen, pulling me against him, and burying my mouth with his.
Instead, it’s silence. No movement, no sound. I force myself to focus on giving Rosie dinner and putting her down for bedtime, but I keep thinking about him.
Even when I don’t want to.
He knew who I was from the start. I can’t help but wonder what else he’s keeping from me. My grandfather’s been locked in the bowels of this place since the day I came here, and Mass never once thought to mention it.
I understand why he didn’t. A part of me knows he probably made the right choice. He’s doing what it takes to protect my grandfather.
I’m extremely sympathetic to that.
But all these revelations are weighing on me.
“Do we miss Mass, little baby girl?” I whisper to Rosie as I rock her before putting her down into her crib.
“Papa,” she says sleepily.
That one word nearly breaks me.
I sit alone in the living room with a glass of wine and the baby monitor. I stare at my daughter fitfully tossing and turning. She’s not crying out, but I can tell she’s having a hard time getting into deep sleep.
Maybe she knows how stressful things are for me right now. She’s always been perceptive.
I want Mass to come home. I want him to explain everything. I need him to apologize. I’m angry and hurt, and I feel like I’m some pawn in a much bigger game, but I still want him. That’s the messed-up part. I need him to make me feel better.
He doesn’t show up.
Eventually, I get desperate. I call down to staff services and ask if they can locate Mass for me. Some random girl I’ve never spoken to before informs me that my husband is currently in an important meeting, but she would gladly pass along a message.
I hang up, feeling stupid.
Only for the phone to start ringing again.
Except it’s not the house phone. I look around, panic hitting my chest, when I realize it’s the couch ringing.
I dig the hidden cell out and raise it up.
“Hello?” I shouldn’t answer. It’s just going to be some mysterious bullshit again. Although the man on the other end was right the last time he called.
“Hey, Allie. It’s good to hear your voice.”
I freeze. I can’t believe what’s happening. “Gabriel?” I whisper, unable to actually accept that it’s my oldest brother on the other end.
“The one and only.” There’s noise in the background. It sounds like something sloshing against a wall. Wind blows through the receiver, and his voice is patchy and distant. “Service is shit right now. We’re on some fancy scrambled satellite, so I can’t talk long. How fast can you pack?”
Adrenaline slams into me. I have to stand and start pacing. “What are you talking about? Where are you right now?”
“I’m nearby. Get Rosie. Grab your things. There’s a beach near the Fortress, just a patch of sand between where you are and where the guests stay. You need to meet me out there in fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes? Are you insane, Gabe? This island is surveilled at all times.”
“We have a window. Trust me, I’m working with people, and we’re going to bring you home. What Cardone did at the wedding was fucking wrong, Allie.”
“Who sent you here? How did you even do this?”
“Just trust me, okay? I swear, Allie, if you leave right now and head to the west side of the island, we’ll bring you home. Everything will be fine.”
