“You can’t have it,” I say, taking a step forward.
“Ah-ah,” he counters, a knife flicking out between us to point directly at my belly. “I wouldn’t try anything stupid right now if I were you. Whatever’s in this bag can’t possibly be worth your life, right?”
My life, maybe. But if he cuts me now, where the knife is currently aimed, there’s a serious chance he would hurt my baby, and I can’t risk that. Every nerve ending in my body screams for me to run.
“Fine. Take it,” I say, slowly raising my hands to show I’m not a threat as I take a step back.
That’s when the man’s eyes flick up, glinting as they land on my left ring finger. “I’ll take that shiny rock as well,” he says, taking a step toward me.
35
MIKO
I never knew tracking Anika would prove to be such a monumental task. But by the third day of her disappearance, I’m on the brink of going completely mad.
“Miko, brother, you need to take a break,” Gio says softly, grasping my shoulder as I sink into a crouch before the ticket counter in Detroit, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes as I fight the urge to break something.
“I’ll take a break after we find Anika,” I snarl, springing back to my feet and brushing off my brother’s concern.
Somewhere in the back of my sleep-deprived brain, I know Gio’s right. I can’t keep effectively tracking her when I haven’t slept or eaten in days. But every time I slow down or close my eyes, fear for her safety has me back up and moving.
The only thing I’ve taken a momentary break for was to allow the doctor Sandro brought before me to take a blood sample for my DNA test.
Since then, I’ve been following tracks through the woods, interrogating bus drivers and train station attendants, terrorizing the local homeless population in my desperation to find someone—anyone—who can tell me where to find Anika.
She bought a ticket to Toronto. One of the ticket masters behind the counter could go so far as to confirm her identity from a picture, and that’s where the trail went cold.
That ticket was punched, which means she got on the train that night.
But I don’t see how she could have crossed the border into Canada when her passport is still safely tucked inside the safe in our bedroom.
Unless she has another one. The possibility that she’s been planning this all along, that she somehow managed to acquire a fake identity with the intention of leaving me behind is the most agonizing thought of all.
Not that she couldn’t come to terms with the fact that I am, in fact, the older brother of a man who terrorized her.
Not even that she decided she couldn’t love me.
But that she’s been pretending all this time, lulling me into a false sense of complacency so I wouldn’t see the signs until it was too late to follow her.
I could almost understand if she was disgusted by my true identity. But this feels like a betrayal that cuts so deep, I don’t know how it’s ever going to heal.
Still, I need to find her. I need to know she’s safe—even if it’s not with me.
“Miko, she’s not here,” Gio says gently. “Let’s go back home. You need a few hours of sleep, and then we can start fresh tomorrow.”
“You might be taking over as Don,” I growl through clenched teeth, shoving a finger in my brother’s face. “But don’teverthink you have a right to tell me when it’s time to stop looking for my wife.”
Gio raises his hands, taking a step back to disengage, and guilt immediately twists my gut. I know he’s just trying to help me.
“Sorry,” I mutter, massaging my temples with my fingers as I wrestle my temper back under control. “I think I just need some fresh air.”
Gio follows me silently as I exit the train station, raking in deep breaths of the rain-heavy air.
“Looking to buy a gift for a certain special someone? Something that saysforeveror maybe justplease don’t tell my wife?” The jeering street vendor’s voice grates on my ears, and I cross my arms over my chest as I level him with a deadly stare.
I’m surprised to see the sight before me. I thought he might be standing in front of a concession stand or even a little pop-up cart, but instead, the scrawny man has a single black velvet jewelry display case, perhaps a foot by two feet in size. And as he opens the lid to give me a peek at his merchandise, my stomach plummets.
The rings were clearly stolen.
