Page 33 of Her Courage

I looked at Andrei. His face was a mask of cold fury, the kind I'd only seen a handful of times in our fifteen-year friendship. The kind that meant blood would be spilled before the day was done.

"Go," he said simply.

We moved as one, leaving everything behind as we tore out of the conference room. My legs burned as I sprinted toward the elevator, Andrei matching my pace stride for stride.

"Stairs," I gasped, already changing direction.

The stairwell door slammed against the wall as we burst through. Seventy flights. I didn't care. Lottie needed us.

My baby girl was out there with that venomous bitch, and every second that ticked by felt like an eternity.

Andrei took the stairs three at a time, his longer legs giving him an advantage. I pushed harder, my lungs screaming in protest.

"...just my word against yours," Patrice's voice echoed from my phone in my pocket, the sound distorted but clear enough. "And who do you think people will believe?"

Forty flights.

Thirty.

Twenty.

My thighs burned. Sweat dripped into my eyes.

"Forty-eight hours, Charlotte. The clock is ticking."

Ten flights.

Five.

The ground floor.

We exploded through the door into the lobby. Security guards jumped to their feet, hands reaching for weapons as Andrei and I barreled past.

"Stay here," I barked at them. "No one follows us."

The glass doors flew open as we hit them running. Across the street. The park. Where was she?

There.

Still on the bench. Alone now. My mother's cream-colored sedan pulling away from the curb.

Lottie sat frozen, staring at nothing. Her phone still clutched in her hand in her lap.

"Baby girl." I slowed, forcing myself to walk the last few feet instead of running. I didn't want to startle her. "Lottie."

Her head turned slowly, as if moving through water. When her eyes met mine, they were swimming with unshed tears.

"Kaleb," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what else to do. She had a—she said she would⁠—"

I dropped to my knees in front of the bench, gathering her trembling hands between mine. "Shh. It's okay. We heard everything."

"Everything?" Her voice cracked.

Andrei stood behind me, already on his phone. "Oscar. Need you at the park across from the office. Now." He paused, listening. "No, she's safe. Just need the car."

He disconnected, then immediately dialed another number. "Marshall? It's Volkov. We need you. Attempted extortion and threats against our girlfriend. Have it all on recording." Another pause. "Patrice Wulf-Huntington. Yeah. That Patrice."

Lottie's eyes widened as she looked between us. "But she said—there's no proof⁠—"