Niko, Kallum, Aleksi, and Maverick are all currently looking at a fucking map of all the rural homes the Bones Chapter could be using as a place to host their fucking games in the United Kingdom. Several homes now have large red X's on them—from England to Northern Ireland—homes we know for certain are completely empty because I've sent a fleet of my husband's men to check each one out. Russian. Italian. It's the first time they're truly working together. I need my husband, and they need their Captain/Pecan.
We’re all exhausted, working on this all day every day. I see it on Niko’s face. He’s a bit pale, and there are dark bags under his aquamarineeyes verging on an eggplant hue. He stands to greet me, offering me his seat, which I take with a mumbled, exhaustive “thanks.”
“Boss lady, you should be sleeping.”
But I can't sleep. Food tastes like ashes, I'm itchy everywhere, and I can't take a deep breath. My husband hasn't kissed me, and my other husband is in a fucking bed connected to a goddamn monitor.
I’m fucking losing it.
Don’t break.
Damon keeps trying to talk to me, but the more he does, the more my nerves fray. I can't talk about it. I need my rage to fester beneath my skin. Because when I find Kane… I'm going to burn him alive for once again touching what wasn't his to touch.
I amboilingon the inside.
I needhimto boil and burn.
I'm going to slit his fucking throat and dance in his blood. Then, very simply, I'm going to piss on his corpse and burn whatever fucking hellhole he has my husband in to the fucking ground. I want it left in utter ruins.
How dare he?
I haven’t spoken more than medical jargon to Damon about Parker because I'm done healing. I’m done smiling politely. I’m choosing violence.
A clearing of a throat pulls my attention back to the small circle of men around me. I lock eyes with Aleksi, who looks as weary as I feel, his slutty glasses pushed up to the bridge of his nose and his topknot a fucking disarray.
I look exactly the same. Who the fuck has time for contacts at a time like this? My husband ismissing. I realize I haven't answered any of them. Haven’t spoken a word. Because I’m lost in my thoughts. Always in my thoughts.
Don’t break. Not yet. When you have them both in your arms, you can break. You only break for them.Ionly break for them.
Damon hands me a mug of tea. I glare at it, then clear my throat and wave Niko off. “I'll sleep later. Have we gotten any updates?”
They all shake their heads.
“Well then.” I stand, exhale a shuddering breath, and pluck my phone out from the front pocket of the last hoodie Maksim wore. It still faintly smells of his cologne and sweat, but I don't allow myself to think about it. “I believe it's time to call the mothers.”
“Don't you mean the wives?” Niko buzzes.
I roll my eyes inwardly. If I had meant the wives, I would have fucking said that. I inhale sharply and release it slowly. I’m angry, not fucking looney tunes.Hold it, Sabrina. You’re not mad at him. He helpedsave Parker. “No. I meantThe Mothers. As in, mine and Jonas's mums. Elena married an American Syndicate member because their rituals are less barbaric than the English chapter's.”
Aleksi’s dark blond brows knit together in confusion over his frames. “But what does that have to do with this?”
I bring up a shoulder and let it drop casually. “Easy. The house staff talks. And if my mother has learned anything from being a tenured author, it's that she's learned tolisten. Also, Elena is currently in her country home in Yorkshire. And quite frankly, she's a gossip. If she hears anything, she'll tell Jonas first and foremost.” I eye Maverick, the guns in his double holster belt. I had to force Raven to leave my side and go to Jonas’s game so he didn’t get penalized for not showing up. He has a budding career in the NFL, and I won’t be the cause of him fucking that up. “Let Jonas know I'm calling his mother so she can report back to him.”
Maverick only nods in agreement just as Damon steps back into the kitchen. I brush past him and go into the backyard, feeling his silver stare burning holes in the back of my head. I can’t talk to him. I avoid Damon like the plague. The cold November air bites at my cheeks as I sit on a piece of patio furniture. The pool to my left is covered, but the yard is vast, and Aleksi's fence is surrounded by trees, giving us lots of privacy.
The Canadian mountains in the backdrop make my heart stop as I remember Italy with Parker.
“If I had to redo this life, I would die trying to find you again—”
“Hello Tink!” she greets happily after the fourth ring.
My breath catches in my throat to hear her so cheery. “Mum—” My voice cracks, and the tears I've been holding back fall unwillingly, crashing around me in an unrelenting torrent. So much for not breaking.
Mum switches the call to FaceTime. A face that looks like Charlie, only older and feminine, stares back at me. And I can'tbreathe. Where she has bursts of gold in her eyes, I have gray slates in mine. “Oh darling. What's happened?”
I inhale as deeply as I can to try to contain myself, to not be weak, but a sob wracks my body so violently I shudder. “Mum, they took him. They took my husband and killed Parker!”
“They what?!” I can't see her through the blur of my tears.
