Pope
Ghost grunts in pain as the resident doctor tends to his gunshot wound. I watch him, sprawled on the couch, looking pale and shaken, fighting the pain. Blood drips down his forehead from where the blunt of a gun hit him. I read guilt in his eyes too, and the torment from thoughts saying he couldn't stop Sienna from being grabbed from her bed, but…how could he?
Someone—likely Bishop—knew Ghost was watching the apartment and planned accordingly. No, I don’t blame him.
This is all on me.
I should have pushed harder when she told me about separating for the night. I shouldn’t have let her leave and if she insisted, I should’ve been the one guarding the building or moved her entire family to the casino. It’s me that should’ve been shot in the shoulder and had my face hit hard enough to give me a concussion. I should have been there to protect Sienna. Fuck wedding traditions.
The urge to kick the table is strong so I stalk to the window and look out at a city that never fucking sleeps. There are a million fucking places my lunatic of a brother could have takenher and the men I have combing through the city might not find her in time.
It makes me sick. Gnaws at my chest and stomach. The thought of not seeing Sienna again rips at me so I grab my phone and will for it to ring, light up with a text from one of my men telling me they’ve found her.
Hell, I don’t care if the call comes from the kidnapper himself. Whatever he wants, he’ll get it as long as he returns Sienna to me unharmed.
“There you go,” the doctor says and I turn to find him packing up his things. “I'll prescribe you the medication you need to take. The bullet just grazed your shoulder so that wound should heal in a few weeks and without much issue. The most concerning thing now is the concussion but you should be okay with painkillers and rest. I’ll check up on you in the morning.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Ghost tells the doctor and he’s given a few more instructions before the man leaves. Silence falls in the room after he’s gone and I can almost hear Ghost’s thoughts from where I am standing and when I turn to look at him, white sheet face and all, I can see how much he’s beating himself for what happened tonight.
"It wasn't your fault," I say for the tenth time, but I can tell he doesn't believe me this time either.
“I shouldn’t have let my guard down,” he says, head bowed. “Fucking son of a bitch came at me out of nowhere. One minute I’m opening my window to toss out my apple core and the next, there’s a hammer to my fucking skull.”
An apple? I would rib him about this any other time but I’m too panicked to find the humor in it. “We’ll find him,” I grind, feeling restless. “He’s dead the second I get my hands on him."
“Were you able to reach Bishop?”
“No.”
The single word cuts between us. My twin hasn't answered any of my fucking calls all night and I don't want to believe that he has anything to do with this but he's not helping matters by blocking me out. If it's Bishop who took Sienna, then…
Fuck!
I'm going to find her my damn self if I have to knock on every fucking door in Vegas. I'll exhaust all my connections tonight until Sienna is in my arms. Safe and sound.
I don’t bother with a jacket as I storm to the door and I’m halfway across the room when the front door bursts and I see a flash of blue pajamas running toward me then find myself looking down at a ball of blond hair tied in a messy bun. It takes me a full minute to get over the shock, to assure myself that this is not a dream or a vision and that, indeed, Sienna is in my arms.
Alive.
Breathing.
“Pope,” she sobs, burying her face in my neck and when I feel the wetness brush my skin, I come alive, wrapping my arms tightly around her even as a myriad of emotions flood through me, threatening to wreck me with their intensity.
"Fuck baby," I choke out, emotions clogging me. I grip her shoulders and push back from the embrace to get a better look at her, those beautiful, tear-stained brown eyes. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head, more tears falling. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”
“Thank fuck!” I hiss, pressing my mouth to hers, tasting her tears then yanking her back against me. “You’re safe. You’re here.”
“Oh my God, Pope. I thought he was going to kill us!” she whimpers into my chest. “He killed…Ghost.” She pushes back from me and when she spots Ghost sprawled on the couch, his injuries evident, she wails. “Oh God, I thought you were dead. I thought…”
“Fucker couldn’t get me,” Ghost reassures her, cracking as much of a smile as he’s capable of.
“He’s not,” I reiterate, pulling her back yet again to my chest. “Everyone’s safe. I sent two men to stay with your family. Everyone is okay.”
Just then, I catch a dark shadow step into the apartment. My gaze shoots up from the sobbing girl pressed up against my chest and moves to the man who steps into my apartment and it’s a face I’ve known every moment of my life—even before. But there's about to be one version if he’s the reason for all this.
Sienna must feel me freeze against her as she pulls back and turns to see what I'm glaring at but there's no fear in her eyes when she looks at Bishop, so I decide to find out what the fuck is going on.
