I see it in the way she relaxes against me when we’re alone. The way she laughs at my shitty jokes. The way she touches me like she’s not afraid of what these hands have done. She called me a protector. Said I was important to her.
She doesn’t need proof. She needs me to stop being a coward and tell her how I feel.
Today, I will.
I check my watch. Ten minutes since her family arrived.
My chest tightens. Not panic. Not yet. Just... awareness. Something prickling at the base of my skull.
I scan the church. Her cousin Audrey stands near the back, phone in hand, frowning at the screen. In the pews, Sierra’s parents lean close together, voices too low to hear.
Fifteen minutes.
I pull out my phone and call one of the soldiers I stationed at her parents’ house. The line rings. And rings. Voicemail.
I try the second guy. Same thing.
Ice slides down my spine.
I call Sierra. It rings and rings, then her voice fills my ear, bright and warm and recorded.Hey, you’ve reached Sierra! Leave me a message and I’ll call you back. Promise!
I hang up and try again. Voicemail.
Something’s wrong.
My hands flex at my sides, ready to hit something, but there’s no one to hit. Just empty air and a doorway where she should be. I know this feeling. I fucking hate this feeling. It’s the same paralysis that locked me in place at sixteen, listening to my mother scream before I finally moved.
Fuck that.
I’m moving before I make the conscious decision, cutting through the pews toward her parents. My shoes echo too loud on the stone floor. Guests turn to stare. I don’t give a shit.
“Where is she?”
Sierra’s mom flinches. I know I’m intimidating on my best days, and right now, there’s thunder in my voice I can’t control.
“We’re trying to reach her.” Her dad puts an arm around his wife. “Harper isn’t answering either. I’m sure they just hit traffic.”
He doesn’t sound sure. He sounds like a man trying to convince himself.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I try to push the rising panic down as I leave them there and scan the church. Her family can’t help me right now. I need my people.
Sierra’s parents are still watching me, confused. They don’t know who I really am. What I’m capable of. But if something’s happened to their daughter, they’re about to find out.
Dario and his uncle, Paolo, are near the back, talking in hushed voices. I cut through the pews toward them, and they both straighten when they see my face.
“Sierra’s not here. She’s not answering. Neither are my guys.”
Dario’s jaw tightens. Paolo’s eyes go sharp.
“I’ll head over there,” Paolo says. “See what’s going on.”
“I’ll go with him.” Sierra’s cousin, Audrey, pushes forward from somewhere behind me, jaw set despite the fear in her eyes. “I have a key.”
Paolo nods, and they leave with two soldiers.
Lorenzo and Dario are moving through the crowd now, mobilizing our men with quiet efficiency. Soldiers drift toward the exits, checking weapons, checking perimeters. The guests sense something’s wrong. The murmuring grows louder.
