Time to pay Clara Caldwell a visit.
Maybe she’ll be more talkative than her watchdog.
9
Clara
“Buddy,” I plant a kiss on Elijah’s cheek, “time to sleep.”
We’re sprawled across the king-sized bed, white sheets tangled around us. Elijah’s head rests on my arm, his Batman pajamas—courtesy of Kayla’s shopping spree—still stiff with newness.
The bathroom door stands ajar, steam still escaping from our bubble bath adventure. Elijah had gasped when he saw the marble tub. “Mommy, it’s like a swimming pool!”
He wasn’t wrong.
I peek at the floor-to-ceiling windows. More guards patrol the grounds now than during daylight. Four…no,five men circle the perimeter, their black suits stark against the manicured lawn.
“Can we have another bubble bath tomorrow?” Elijah’s voice pulls me back. His damp hair tickles my chin.
“Sure, buddy.” I run my fingers through his curls. “Did you count the bubbles this time?”
“Too many!” He giggles. “And the shower has rain, Mommy. Real rain!”
I squeeze him closer. For a moment, Ialmostforget where we are.
Almostforget that Kayla had locked us in after dinner, her only words being, “We need to go back to room.” Andalmostforget that we’re trapped on the top floor with three other mysterious doors that remain sealed shut.
Almost.
“Mommy.” Elijah’s small hand touches my cheek. His brown eyes, so likehis, are heavy with sleep. “I miss Pikachu.”
My throat tightens. His favorite plush toy, left behind in our hasty… departure. “I know, baby.” I stroke his cheek. “We’ll get Pikachu back once we’re out of here.”
He considers this, nose scrunching up like it does when he’s thinking hard. “Yes, we’ll train these bad guys, Mommy.”
A snort escapes me. He’s still on about this. Only my kid would think about rehabilitating the Russian mob.
“We’ll train them to be good guys.”
My hands slide down to Elijah’s shoulders, patting him gently. My jaw tightens.
Sure, right after I figure out how to get us out of here alive. Right after I deal with Leonid fucking Kuznetsov. The man in the Raven mask. Jake’s killer.
But something nags at the back of my mind. Those eyes. Leonid’s eyes are brown, not blue like the ones I saw that day. The ones that haunted my nightmares for years.
The pieces of the puzzle won’t fit together, no matter how hard I try.
I’m too tired to think now, so I tug Elijah closer, breathing in his baby smell. The one that still makes me soft, even after all these years.
“Yes, baby.” I press my lips to his forehead. “We can try. Now sleep.”
His breathing evens out almost immediately. My own eyelids grow heavy, but I force them open, counting the guards one more time. Six now. They’ve added another.
Elijah shifts in his sleep, clutching my T-shirt. Before him, I would’ve already tried to fight my way out. Would’ve done something stupid and reckless.
But he changed everything.
My eyes drift shut. The lavender-sandalwood scent from the diffuser fills my lungs. It’s too nice, too peaceful for a prison.
