My knees buckle, and Asher is suddenly there, catching me, his voice sharp and commanding as he takes the phone from my trembling hand.
“This is Asher Rheins,” he says into my phone. “Lock down the school. We’re on our way.”
I barely register the steady cadence of his words, the way he takes control like it’s second nature. All I can think about is getting to Emma and Ella, my babies, vulnerable and within Jason’s reach.
The drive is a blur. I don’t remember getting into the car; I just hear snippets as Asher calls Zane and asks him to get to the school. I don’t even register the world outside the windows. My hands clutch the door handle so tightly, my knuckles turn white. My breathing is shallow and rapid, a storm raging in my chest.
“Mia, look at me,” Asher says, his hand briefly brushing mine before returning to the wheel. “We’ll get them. They’re safe right now.”
Safe.That word feels so far away, so impossible. My mind races with all the worst-case scenarios, each one darker than the last.
The screech of tires in the school parking lot snaps me out of the fog. Asher cuts the engine, and we’re out of the car before it even finishes rolling to a stop.
Zane is already there, standing near the entrance. His stance is wide, surveying the area like a predator searching for prey.
The moment Asher parks in front of the school, I’m rushing out, my heart thundering in my ears. My babies. My girls.
But Zane intercepts me, his scarred face set in grim lines. His expression is grim, his tone clipped and professional. “Iintercepted him before he could get close to the fence. He saw me and bolted.”
My breath catches, and I press a hand to my chest, trying to will my pounding heart to slow. “He’s gone?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“For now,” Zane replies. “But he’ll be back. Men like Jason don’t scare easy.”
I go inside to pick up the girls from their classroom. Their class teacher, Rachel Winging gives me a troubled look. “Don’t worry. I remember your instructions. Nobody but you gets to take them.”
“Thank you,” I say barely holding myself as I take the girls out of school.
The twins bound out of the school entrance, their faces lit up with excitement. They’re oblivious to the shadow that looms over us, their innocence piercing my chest like a knife.
“Mommy! Mr. Asher! Mr. Zane!” Emma chirps, holding up a crayon drawing. “Look! I made a picture of a castle!”
Ella tugs on my sleeve, holding up her own project: a carefully glued collage of glitter and paper. “Mine has a dragon,” she announces proudly. “He protects the castle!”
I force a smile, my hands trembling as I take the artwork. “They’re beautiful, girls.”
Emma turns to Asher, her eyes wide with excitement. “Did you see the swings? They’re so high! I went all the way up, like this!” She throws her hands in the air, her enthusiasm bubbling over.
Asher crouches down, his expression softening as he listens. “All the way up, huh? Sounds like you’re braver than me.”
Ella tugs on Zane’s sleeve next, her tiny fingers clutching the edge of his jacket. “Mr. Zane, can we show you the playground?”
For a moment, I see the faintest flicker of something in Zane’s eyes. Surprise, maybe, or the shadow of a smile. “Nottoday, kiddo,” he says, his voice gruff but not unkind. “Got important work to do.”
As the girls continue to chatter and giggle, I clutch their art projects like a lifeline. My hands are shaking so badly, I have to press them to my sides.
“Mommy, why are you shaking?” Emma asks suddenly.
“I’m just a little cold, sweetheart,” I lie, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“Let’s get you home,” Zane says, ushering all three of us into the car. He takes the driver’s seat while Asher sits in front.
The car ride home feels like a brief respite, a bubble of normalcy I don’t deserve. The twins chatter happily in the backseat, oblivious to the tension in the front. Zane cracks a rare smile at Ella’s earnest description of her glitter dragon while Asher plays along, asking Emma if her castle has a moat.
I wish Damon were here. He’d know what to do. He always does. Instead, I have Zane and Asher. They’re capable, yes, but unfamiliar.
And home… home should feel safe. But it doesn’t.
The moment we step inside the house, I know something’s wrong. The house is too still, too quiet, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I pause in the entryway, my breath catching as I scan the space. The twins dart past me, chattering about their day, oblivious to the tension in the air.
